"yourselves" poems
The great thing
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
govern me. I have
a lord in heaven
called the sun, and open
for him, showing him
the fire of my own heart, fire
like his presence.
What could such glory be
if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,
were you like me once, long ago,
before you were human? Did you
permit yourselves
to open once, who would never
open again? Because in truth
I am speaking now
the way you do. I speak
because I am shattered.
26.8k
As the sins partied the night away the sun came rising in the country Tranquility.
"Are you ready to spend all eternity together?" Loyalty asked Love as they stood on their balcony. "My dear, dear, husband soon to be, you already know the answer to the question you ask" said Love. As Loyalty and Love stand locked in a warming embrace being kissed by the rays of the sun the two share a kiss of their own. Beep, beep, beep. "Well this is a perfect time for my communicator to beep" said Love. Breaking her embrace with Loyalty, Love answers her communicator. "Hello Faith how are you?" asked Love. "I'm fine Love and how are you?" answered Faith. "I'm ready to start this new era in my life" said Love. "I'm looking over your wedding file. Are there any last minute changes you want to make?" said Faith. "No Faith everything's perfect" said Love. "I'm outside your house waiting on you Love. Let's get going" said Faith. "I'll be right down. I have to go Loyalty" said Love. Grabbing Love by her waist and pulling her close Loyalty whispers in her ear "Are you sure this is what you want?" "I wanted you when I first saw you. Now if you'll excuse me Faith is waiting for me" said Love. When Love exited her house she found Faith hovering in her brand new transporter. "Wow Faith this is beautiful" said Love. "Thank you Love. This is the new Neo 7000. It was the last one left" said Faith. Interrupted by her communicator Faith answers her call from Loyalty. "Hello Loyalty what do you want?" said Faith. "Why you have to ask like that Faith?" said Loyalty. "Just make sure Knowledge have you at the chapel on time. Now if you'll excuse me I have things to do" said Faith. "C'mon Faith we don't have time to play with Loyalty" said Love. Rising higher in the air Faith and Love zoomed away. As they flew through the sky Faith asked Love about her humanitarian organization S.O.U.L. "How was your peace keeping mission in the country Limbo?" asked Faith. "The citizens there had a lot of raw emotions from the war. There is a big scar dividing the country" said Love. "Your organization S.O.U.L. has a lot of strong positive influence. How long has S.O.U.L. been active in the humanitarian field?" asked Faith. "Five years" answered Love. When Faith and Love landed at the chapel Wisdom was waiting for them. "Love and Faith I've been waiting patiently for the two of you. I've spoken with Loyalty on my communicator. He and knowledge will be here shortly and then you can pledge yourselves to each other" said Wisdom. Just as the three was speaking Grace walked out of the chapel. "Hello Love and Faith it's about time the two of you showed up" said Grace. "It's good to have a star for a friend who's gifted in all the arts" said Love. Love threw her arms around Grace and gave her a big squeeze. "Let's get you in your wedding dress. If you'll follow behind me to your dressing room we can get started" said Grace. As Love and Faith followed behind Grace, Knowledge and Loyalty landed at the chapel.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 5:22 AM UTC
When I made you, I loved you.
Now I pity you.
I gave you all you needed:
bed of earth, blanket of blue air--
As I get further away from you
I see you more clearly.
Your souls should have been immense by now,
not what they are,
small talking things--
I gave you every gift,
blue of the spring morning,
time you didn't know how to use--
you wanted more, the one gift
reserved for another creation.
Whatever you hoped,
you will not find yourselves in the garden,
among the growing plants.
Your lives are not circular like theirs:
your lives are the bird's flight
which begins and ends in stillness--
which begins and ends, in form echoing
this arc from the white birch
to the apple tree.
13.9k
When you're a girl
The more beautiful you are
The more problems you will face
When you're a woman
The more stubborn you are
The more future you will create
Over the years, many men might've tried
To let you down and suppress your dreams
But, you've never lost the hope
Kept fighting & proved yourselves at times
In fact, you moved us
Motivating every single day
By achieving your dreams
You made this world a better place now
Thanks for being so kind, sweet, loving & caring
All that we(men) can give you is our pure-hearted love
I love you Granny, for all the stories you told me
I love you mom, for being there, every time I failed
I love you sister, for all the fights & advices
I love you, my dear friend, for trusting me
I can't imagine a world without you all
Happy Women's Day!!
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 12:24 PM UTC
the girls had been chattering and laughing in the dining room when suddenly nan, zoey, and madison charged in the room. making everyone stop and look at them. "Alright ******* Madison stood with her arms crossed and an enraged look in her dark brown eyes. "who the **** stole my money???" she questioned. the girls just sat there and looked at her quietly. "okay, none of you broke *** hos want to fess up? you're ballsy enough to take my **** but you're not ballsy enough to stand up to me? i see" Madison shouted. sadness and hostility in her eyes and voice.
"who took Madisons money? i wanna know right now!" Cassie stood up in anger. quickly rushing to Madisons aid. Madison nudged her alittle and rolled her eyes. Cassie folded her arms, mimicking exactly what Madison had been doing. "BROKE *** HOESSSS!" Cassie screamed, pointing at all the girls. Pyper rolled her big blue eyes and flipped her long crimson red hair laughing, "nobody stole your money you idiot, you probably just misplaced it." she laughed, fearlessly looking madison straight in the eyes. which made nan look at pyper very suspiciously as she read her mind. "hold my earrings please." Madison began to put her hair up in a bun. "what is going on in here?" Cordelia stormed in the room with her arms folded. "put your shoes on Madison." Cordelia looked at Madison in confusion. "nothing, Madisons spazing out because she thinks that someone took her money. and now she's getting all 'ghetto' and bent out of shape about it. taking her payless heels off like she's actually going to do something." pyper rolled her eyes and joked, making the rest of the girls laugh aswell. "payless? i only wear chanel." Madison flipped her hair. Nan looked Pyper in the eyes suspiciously, shaking her head from side to side. "i'm going to say this once and once only." cordelia shouted. "i will not have any fighting or steeling in this house. and if anyone is caught fighting or steeling, you will be expelled. it's a big bad world out there girls, up until now you've all lived very sheltered lives and i'd hate to send you out in it to fend for yourselves." Cordelia sighed. pyper got a very sad look in her eyes. "sheltered" she snickered, "right."
Nan looked at pyper sadly, still reading her mind.
"what are you looking at?" Pyper shouted at nan viciously.
"i'm not sure yet." Nan replied curiously.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
A view just before sunrise
Resembles like a sunset
But the difference is vast
As it is fills with a hope of rays
A view just before sunrise
Is well felt deep inside
When it starts to gleam
With its sun rays
A view just before sunrise
Is a blooming sun of rays
Which fill with bright lights
And make beautiful sights
A view just before sunrise
Is a view of hopes
Excited in full of vibes
With its vibrant colours
A view just before sunrise
Is a one more chance
Given to know the worth of lives
To live with full of senses
A view just before sunrise
Is to be grateful to God’s grace
To be a part of living miracles
Especially in this competitive eras
A view just before sunrise
Is enjoyed well when it rises
And when it rise to its bests
It seems as smiling at us
A view just before sunrise
Is a smiley face of sun
As of a blooming sunflower’s
With its joyful pleasures
A view just before sunrise
Is the waiting periods
To see the rising queen
Reflecting as golden eyes
A view just before sunrise
Is hope of new days
In its blessed paces
For every faces
A view just before sunrise
Helps to plan in advance
To utilise the opportunities
With its best ways
A view just before sunrise
May bless us to rise
With its immense cheers
So all can have its leisures
A view just before sunrise
Is the stipulated time frames
To harvest the best nuts
From the life’s tests
A view just before sunrise
Is to raise yourselves
To shine as jewel stones
As a sun in yourselves
A view just before sunrise
Is to enjoy the glory of living vibes To make best diamond from coals
So that it lustre in darks
A view just before sunrise
In nutshell, is a glorious shine
As a diamond kept in caves
To brighten the path of ways
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 8:04 PM UTC
WIFE and servant are the same,
But only differ in the name :
For when that fatal knot is ty'd,
Which nothing, nothing can divide :
When she the word obey has said,
And man by law supreme has made,
Then all that's kind is laid aside,
And nothing left but state and pride :
Fierce as an eastern prince he grows,
And all his innate rigour shows :
Then but to look, to laugh, or speak,
Will the nuptial contract break.
Like mutes, she signs alone must make,
And never any freedom take :
But still be govern'd by a nod,
And fear her husband as a God :
Him still must serve, him still obey,
And nothing act, and nothing say,
But what her haughty lord thinks fit,
Who with the power, has all the wit.
Then shun, oh ! shun that wretched state,
And all the fawning flatt'rers hate :
Value yourselves, and men despise :
You must be proud, if you'll be wise.
8.2k
The Chains of ones fate are undenyable, as life carries on,
Servants caught in a hell of rebirth without ever escaping,
A red thread which leads verily onto a destined pathway,
Decisions, the pen and the ink for ones book of destiny,
They may ruin the servant, or bring them great happiness,
May mislead, trick, ****** or even manipulate them without their conciousness or understanding of the weight they brought upon their poor little, yet precious bodies which carry on depression as if it was the weight of the world or far beyond that registered mass,
In a hole with seemingly no escape to it, trapped in misery,
Chains of suffocating pressure are keeping them in place,
Oh what a terrible fate it must be to be in this position,
Patience, hope and positivity are needed to see another ray of sunlight, shining beyond the scene of the darkened clouds above
Once this trial has been overcome they too will shine with newfound strengh, energy and relieving glee from within themselves,
So fight on, you precious souls, you are worth more than you might think or would even admit to yourselves, then shine
That would be, a great wish of mine
~ Umi
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
Back when I was nine
When I don't know what are beyond the line
Where everything was "just" a touch
Even when she did it at night in couch
When I turned twelve
They said dress according to yourselves
I wear a skirt that I feel
Every eyes are wanting me to peel
I remember a horrible day of fifteen
I wear shirt and pants of green
A cold sweat flush
A strange man grab my ***
I thought eighteen will be fine
Maliciousness will decline
Until someone asked
Join them in bed, I feel aghast
Now I'm twenty-one
Fear lived, doesn't gone
Every looked has a meaning
A memoir of harassing
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 11:35 AM UTC
Step sister 1:
Cinderella! Cinderella!
Have you seen my Blackberry?
Prince Charming is having a grand party
Texted everybody in this country
Step sister 2 :
Cinderella! Cinderella!
Don't tell sis, I received a message too
Iron my dress, polish my shoes
Will not let her dance and step on my shoes
Prince Charming is mine, I am not gonna lose
Cinderella :
My sister 1 , my sister 2
Please do whatever you told yourselves
after cooking, I'd be busy myself
fairy godmother will come at my side
to offer a dress and a carriage to ride.
Prince Charming didn't text or call me
I do not own a Blackberry
but he had come here in person yesterday
Funny, He didn't ask me to try on a shoe
instead he had asked me to recite a poetry
He said he was head over hills in love with poetry
and found Cinderella a poet he wanted to marry
Sister 1 and Sister 2 :
Shut up Cinderella !
You are filthy little liar!
Liar Liar Liar
While the step sisters were getting mad
A golden carriage came for rescue
Cinderella stepped in a carriage
Held her poetry books tightly in her hands
and Fairy godmother sat very cool on her side
Stepsisters were in state of shock
Busy texting their mother and friends
and complaining, and crying, and shouting, and cursing
as Cinderella Went straight to the castle to marry her Prince Charming.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 10:51 AM UTC
In 1963
Mahalia prodded
the good reverend...
“tell them
about the dream
Martin”
transfixed on
a yonder time
he recounted
prophecies of
a near future
from a mountaintop
he foretold a
history of a people
returned again to
gardens of paradise
thriving in friendly
democratic soils
overflowing with a
colorful biodiversity
governed and
nurtured with a
vibrant sunshine
of divine justice
welcoming all
weary sojourners...
from the
pinnacle of
a Birmingham
jail cell
Martin burst
the bars with
the clarion peel
of a golden trumpet
proclaiming the gospel
of liberation to
the wardens of
unholy gulags
“free yourselves”
the horn emblazoned
in streaking lightning
across the sky
cowed by
prophetic truths
of righteousness,
shamed by
lies the pride
of arrogance
bespeaks to
placate the
intransigence
of dominion,
we prayed the
the walls of racism,
bigotry, prejudice
would tumble down as
Martin lit the Battle
of Jericho
today our country’s
profit driven gulags
overflow with people
of color as justice
lingers on death row
begging for a plea bargain
of a life sentence in
solitary confinement...
from the
****** Sunday Bridge
in Selma, Martin
offered a prayer for
peace, rebuking
the dogs of war
admonishing
the tenders of
blood thirsty
machines to
beat the gears
of war into
pruning hooks
and plowshares
advocates of peace
hope to steer
the plow across
the battlefields of
acrimony to sow
rich seeds of
reconciliation, planting
new gardens where
the rich yields of peace
will be consumed
by all God's children
yet these gardens
remain unplanted,
untended and defiled
by the machinery
of war that churns
churns, churns...
Martin last
dream occurred
on a balcony
in Memphis
witnessing
to the divinity
of those considered
untouchable after
a hard days work
collecting a city’s
refuse
he insisted all labor
was worthy of dignity
and the economic
justice of a fair wage
Martin looked squarely
into the eye of the gun sights
of those who thought differently
he never blinked, he dreamed
Martin formed his last
testament to an angry nation
yearning for the reconciliation
of stability and peace,
unmoved that it’s violence,
exploitation and bigotry only
stoke bonfires of acrimony
and division, condemning
the reprobate principality
to the bleakness of a
smoldering discontent and
continued generations
of recurring nightmares…
Martin's dream continues
in awakened hearts
sojourning on
Music Selection:
Mahalia Jackson
Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho
MLK Day
2014
Oakland
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
A satellite is watching its ants,
Broadcasting the pixelated sins of your fathers,
Just
like
snow
Go on sew,
Sew your seams little one,
All this humanism is bound to bust when you all find yourselves-
Eating cotton
Turn on the television,
I am naked,
I need to hide,
Turn off the lights,
I need darkness,
To abide,
And Babylon is seeping through the screens,
Demean us all,
Demean us all,
As long as I can be seen,
Demean me please,
Ease the curse of this vulnerability,
How do I survive on this tilted planet?
What's the use of living,
If I'm not alive?
Was man meant for this?
All these cages,
My job my house my car my body,
Is anybody conscience of this missing bliss of life?
Who can see,
All
the
nakedness
like
me
The world washes over our bodies
The world washes over our bodies
The world washes over our bodies
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 10:14 PM UTC
My dear friends
Go on and enjoy yourselves
Slumber the morn away!
It seems early on Saturdays
I've always far to much to attempt to convey
While my few kind heart-ed followers
Tend to sleep their mornings hours
Peacefully in and out of REM
While I'm at the computer rhyming again...
It's late
You passed your chance for early waking
Hell you miss out on a great early baking!
And now it's far past time for eggs and bacon
The munches, as you can guess
Have all been forsaken
And what did you achieve
With extra sleep
Morning dreams of distorted thoughts
Poetic themes now subconsciously lost?
I know, I know
You made wonderful love the night before
And you need your beauty rest
I read your writing, I get it
you are so blessed!!!!
I went to bed alone and played
With the thoughts of someone wanting me
I wish my poems could reflect
But all they do is bleed
How I envy all my followers
If I offend
Give me a holler
You've been hanging out late
With a habits to itch
We all have a role to play
Unfortunately
By the time you get around to reading this
I'll either be asleep
Or on my way!
.....
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 8:35 AM UTC
this is a series of brief letters to the pieces of my body
dear body,
we don't always work together very well,
but i swear i am trying.
dear hands,
the callouses and crescent moons in your palms
will not be for nothing.
dear knuckles,
aren't you tired of painting yourselves black & blue
every time words fall short of the fire burning behind my sternum?
dear feet,
you know better than to follow roads that lead to dead ends.
there are better places for us to go.
dear eyes,
you have sunken so far into my skull
it shocks me you see anything at all anymore.
you're fixated on shades of gray
but i promise the world will regain its color soon.
dear knees,
stop crawling.
this broken glass is from his bottles.
get up. no more blood.
dear shoulders,
it was never your burden to carry. let it fall,
and try your hardest not to feel guilty.
dear neck,
his hands will never make a home here,
and you are worth more than one night of empty bruises.
dear spine,
stop waiting to be warmed by fingers
that would reach for another body if they could.
dear tears,
do not waste yourselves.
dear ears,
you have been filled with ghost songs for too long.
stop listening for things no one is saying -
it will make life much simpler.
dear mouth,
i know these secrets have been threatening to break my teeth
but please do not open your gates. i am not ready.
dear skin,
we have never been close friends.
i am sorry for the scars.
i am trying to learn how to be comfortable in you.
dear mind,
if i could wish you into an etch-a-sketch
and shake you clean of these bad memories i would.
dear heart,
i hope you can forgive me for being so careless.
i feel how tired you are. rest is on its way.
dear body,
you will one day see a grave,
but it must not be by your own hands.
- m.f.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 6:28 PM UTC
I’m wearing these shades to hide my face,
since you’re all staring so hard
watching me just in case,
maybe I’ll slip up
or reveal a hidden mistake.
Hanging onto my every word
“What does that mean?”
“How can we be sure?”.
I'm not some T.V show
don’t put me on your pedestal.
I’m not your savior,
I can’t heal your soul.
I never asked for this
so go turn your heads and
quit looking at my mess,
or waiting for what I say next.
Go save yourselves,
because I can’t help.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 8:22 PM UTC
part of me wants to scream... i want to scream out to the world to get them to understand.
I want to scream until there isn’t a single breath left in my lungs, until they sting with the energy i’ve expended and my words hang in the air for all to hear.
to be poet you must write with a certain passion
live with the satisfaction that you can constantly assemble phrases, words and lines
because to truly write you must feel..
you must freely write your emotion
you must learn to let go of your darkest secrets
allow the words to flow from your mind
emancipate yourselves from mental salvery
they cannot comprehend why I write,
I am working for inner peace,
fighting for the freedom of my soul
writing is my form of release , because sometimes
poetry is not a turning loose of emotion but an escape of emotion
moments when I start writing and yet know what I am even to write of
poetry is about discovering , just like happiness
these aren't things ready made
we fear what we know but do not understand
we are loose at the seems
pretending to fine
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
See them sitting there togethere
Like the knights of king Arthure
They look so happy, smiling, laughing
I'm no longer a child, the masks are falling
Oh how I'd love to break the game
Shout out loud: you're all so fake
talking behind backs before you came
drowning yourselves in hypocrisy's lake
Make peace now or leave my house
I don't need any more hatred around
fighting inside like cat and mouse
acting normal, laughing loud
Or you talk now and make peace
Or you don't, honestly I don't care
trying with you is like talking to trees
I'd love to shout that, as I lower my stare
They know that I know, they think I won't dare
It's not like that, I'm perfectly able
I just got attracted by the cake on the table
Later, maybe..
Y.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 2:34 PM UTC
(Pompeii/Florence, 1997)
Vulcan was real, alive as you were,
you and your language, long dead now.
Your town was prosperous, with its paved streets,
bars, bath-houses, brothels,
mosaics, painted walls, graffiti.
Your domestic gods too were real to you;
they had saved you before,
and when the superhuman hammer blows shook
your houses, you repaired them,
decorated in greater splendour,
erected a temple to your protectors.
But Vulcan was not appeased - years are not long
to the lord of earth and fire.
This time he struck swiftly, sending you death
from his mountain, overwhelming you
as you ran. Your garden
gave you no protection,
hot fumes choked you,
hot ash surrounded you,
sealed in your tomb as you died.
The ones who excavated your town
marvelled at its completeness,
and in the ash that filled your garden
they found hollows.
Filling the hollows with plaster,
they found . . . not you,
but echoes of yourselves,
like statues in a museum.
We came to see you, and after that
to the Academy, standing in awe
at David's perfect marble humanity.
But we were troubled by the others,
the uncompleted ones, the Prisoners,
their twisted limbs, hidden faces,
frozen in the act of emerging
from the stone, recalling too painfully
in their unfinished creation
your own agonised poses
as you died.
*"I had seen birth and death,
but had thought they were different."*
.
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 3:02 PM UTC
Dear 'luck,
Sometimes I wonder how those girls feel
How their goodluck turned around
It's like running on banana peels
Keepfalling, can't even get up
The key is in the sea, someone changed our luck :(
Cos this isn't the guy we all trusted to change our walks
It's funny how $12 could buy a life
And N2000 can buy a wife
A child is supposed to think of getting grown
And not wearing a wedding gown
You call yourselves the govern-ment so do what you're meant to do
Cos I'm a believer that you can deliver our innocent people.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 4:10 AM UTC
I'm a poet, beatboxer,
Gamer, Expert procrastinator
Hated
Loved
But not loved by you apparently.
You
Who sits behind the screen like a little *****
Makes your profile private
So I can't respond to things like
"Exactly what I'd expect a 16 year old little ***** to say"
You only make me mad by your nature
Probably a 50 year-old ********* and troll
Who gets off by taunting younger ones
Because he's too much of a **** to pick on someone
His own size and age,
Having no friends or relatives that love him
Nobody that respects the ******* he is
Probably does drugs
Dropped out of school the year he learnt the word ****
Didn't follow much of a lifestyle
Blew kids off for twenty bucks
I mean, money is money
Shares his mothers basement with twelve cousins,
Male and female,
That he ***** on the daily
The only action he really gets
And when they aren't there
Climbs out of his trollhole
To **** with the wrong people
They call me Phoenix
Because I roast beats
And pedophiles
Like yourselves
You got a reaction
Question is,
Was it what you expected?
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
You pose and pout,
Seduction by superficial sauciness.
You tell me of your day
With that simpering voice,
Raising each last word
Long and loud.
You show me your flash cars,
Your sumptuous wardrobe
And who knows what else?
You and your kin call yourselves “Influencers” –
A great word,
But all you do is make people:
People who have grafted long and hard
For a little spare cash,
Go buy things they
Do not really need.
Right Said Fred was Right:
The global catwalk
Is a sham.
I too would love to be an “Influencer”,
Such a fine word,
But I would be one to encourage folk
To Love others,
Stop all this Conflict
Between polar opposites and extremes,
Fight only for the Common Good,
And make the world a better place
For All.
Paul Butters
© PB 15\1\2021.
Jan 15, 2021
Jan 15, 2021 at 5:21 PM UTC
A demon masquerading
as the almighty dollar;
she is cunning,
and she is tricky.
She is beguiling,
and she is illusory.
Deceitful and avaricious,
yet believers follow
aimlessly. To have her
in your possession is
nothing like how it
feels to be stripped of her.
Those who succumb to
her seduction are granted
luxury and leisure;
the pledge to idolize
her mindlessly is
engraved into our brains.
Indigence, starvation;
the deprivation of the
green goddess is malicious.
Free yourselves from the hold
she has on you; from the
worldly power she possesses.
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 7:20 PM UTC
My first impression of the children's hospital was how nice everything was. It was new, with fish tanks and red sofas; pastel windows which made pretty colors on the floor when the sun went through them; walls were freshly painted and everyone talked with a smile. Everything just looked so peaceful.
It wasn't until my second visit that I saw the flaws. I was sitting on one of the red couches, waiting for my name to be called, and I was looking at the fish tank. A little girl was pressed up to the glass telling her mother that she could see nemo. But when I looked closer, I saw a little fish turned over floating at the surface. A man behind the glass quickly pulled it out of the tank, but I saw. That's when I started noticing other things. Like the bloodstain on the cushion next to me. And the fact that a few tiles were missing from the floor. The wood paneling had scratches on it; one of the pastel windows was taped up; and every parent was smiling, but the little kids holding on to them kept asking what was wrong.
Maybe that's just how hospitals are. They want you to think that everything's okay; that all that goes on inside are couches and fishtanks. They think that if they write out the word HOSPITAL in bubbly pink letters people might get it into their brains that everything's okay. But that doesn't change the fact that it's a hospital. Masking pain only works for so long, until broken bits and pieces push their way through.
I think hospitals are just fish tanks. Everyone is put on display for doctors and visitors and things seem okay for a while, you know, until they aren't. When a little nemo dies, they send away his body and just replace him with another orange fish that people can look at. We are all the cracks in the pavement; elevators shut down for repair; a phantom pain that nobody wants to believe is real. If you stand far enough away; if you distance yourselves from anything close to the word hospital, you can just let yourself focus on the mask they put up. But once it's time, and you're sitting on a red couch in the lobby of the children's wing, with a kid asking you where her older brother went, you'll find yourself staring at the cracks in the facade with a single tear running down your face and with emptiness in your stomach.
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
I admit the Pressures you Three must pass
Your own Barometres took quite a toll
From Stubborn Demands your ****** Peers had
Compel you to Shrink and keep on a Roll
But there are VALUES; Those Trusted Elders
In Humble Present their Words will sure Guide
All you need is some Time for yourselves, Brothers
Such that its Petals will unwrap for your Sight
Kind and apt Admiral! May your Shoes fill
Set their Braces to walk they know can Trust
So even if Hooties make Milk-Thoughts spill
A Shielding Light to soap their Dunged Shells, must.
This is just an Advice. Again from a Friend
Whose busy Torrents tries to Help does rend.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
The eyes should be on the target only after opting the goal
"Be Like Cheetah"
-ARAVIND BHARGAVA
"Cheetah getting famished sets the ambition to chase a Deer,
Doesn't stop until the purpose is clear,
Doesn't gets confused by seeing an animal in the middle,
Achieves the goal and makes the deer to *******
You are the Cheetah and deer is the goal,
Other goals are animals in a whole,
Concentrate only on the purpose you have chosen,
Make the goal for you to be frozen.
Frame the aspiration by yourselves you had,
Detach negative from mind which is bad,
Attention only on the ambition you designated,
Do not lose confidence even if you are underestimated,
Add courage, trust, and determination to your mind,
Do not cease until everything is fined.
Be like a cheetah, contrive goals
And be successful in life"
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC