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Tamara Fraser Aug 2016
I live a life collecting pieces.

Pieces of fantasies forever the

realm of

childhood;

Pieces of imaginations turned wild and wonderful.

Pieces of laughter, confusion, delight and tears.

Pieces of melancholy, shards of sorrow;

fragments of regret, portions of jealousy.

Sections of desire, passion, leading us on

blindly to others of

heartache and yearning.


The rough edges of frustration, yet the

smooth curves of contentment, peace.

I live a life collecting pieces;

this is what I’m told makes a life worthy.

Worthy of remembrance, joy; fulfilment.

But only I can see the struggles,

feel my bones bearing more weight;

the aching tiredness I fall into,

when I’m not at work,

collecting the pieces I speak of.


The fright I hastily pick up off the ground,

when I compare my clumsy, ***** array of

pieces to your perfect and bound ones;

when you aren’t looking.

The dread I reach for, because you leave it crushed

beneath your feet.

The nervous tension pulling strings beneath my skin;

leaving me a reckless, vulnerable puppet

collecting the pieces left in your wake.


Torn to scattered, dusty pieces;

Reborn a puzzle of simplicities,

bright and shining pieces woven into form.

No matter where we have been, where we

were taken,

where we were loved,

where we were betrayed,

where we fought bravely,

where we surrendered nobly,

where we were embittered,

where we learnt of strengths and weaknesses;

we are all made of pieces.


We are collections of pieces.

You and I.

Our collection is known as life;

each piece is our experience of something.

Someone.

Somewhere.

And the more we know each other, the more

often our hands can reach for two of the same,

available pieces left before us.

I pen them down, keep them special and fragrant.

I live a life collecting pieces

and often they are of you.
SøułSurvivør Sep 2016
Slammed to "Pick Up the Pieces"
by Average White Band

Life's a jungle I have found
Torn to pieces all around
There are foxes - there are hounds
Zoos where wild things abound
Just listen to the funky sound
Now we're going underground....

Underground where rabbits go
Down tunnels in a faster slow
It's all over, don't you know
Pick & Shovel, Rake & ***
You're down with it, on the low
Like you're Edgar Allan Poe
Feast or famine - friend or foe
It must go on... The Truman Show...



Jigsaw pieces - play the game
It is just a crying shame
Dance for dancing - Fame for fame
Break a leg and you are lame
No one'll ever know your name...

PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES



You're a tiger, nothin' nice
You've been bought, you had a price
Yeah, you tore off quite a slice
Well, some are men and some are mice
Some eat meat and some eat rice
Some are fire - some are ice
Some are ticks and some are lice
Let me give you some advice...

Just so you are never boring
While you're out there pimping, *******
While you're the one they are adoring
Just watch out for polished flooring
Don't break loose from your fast mooring
Into the pit you will be soaring
After that there's no restoring
Listen to the lion roaring...


Chorus


Here we are in the U.S.
We are pampered we are blessed
Sometime soon there'll be a test
We'll ride the Bronco way out West
The Magnificent Seven rides abreast
There's a new Sheriff, have you guessed?
With a tin badge on His vest
He does not play - He does not jest
I'm afraid, I will attest!

It won't be fun, just wait and see
It will be "pain" *with a capitol P!

On this bus, don't ride for free
This is not a game of Wii
There's a port and there's a lea
There's a shrub (Bush), and there's a tree
There's an us, and there's a we

There's a YOU, and there's a ME...

PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES



SoulSurvivor
(C) 9/14/2016



https://youtu.be/xpflST8xWm8
"Pick Up the Pieces" extended version
Average White Band
I heard this song today and had to slam to it! This is a shortened version of the poem.
I'm going to do it at Open Mic next week.

The reference to Shrub (George W Bush)
should be explained. My family always calls George Bush shrub... LOL! :-)
Kelly Bitangcol May 2016
I remember you telling me before that you saw yourself as a jigsaw puzzle.* I never understood you then because why would you compare yourself with a thing that requires pieces. You explained that you have 6 pieces in you, pieces that made you, created you. Pieces that were the reason for the person you are today, pieces that helped you function, in other words, pieces that made you whole. That was why you called yourself as a 6 piece jigsaw puzzle. But then one day, you told me all of those pieces were missing. You said someone or something took it away from you and you have no idea how to get them back. You explained to me thoroughly how they were removed from you. The first piece was removed when you were in your room one night, hearing your parents fight, yelling and arguing, telling hurtful things to each other. So you decided to put some headphones on and played some music so you wouldn’t hear their shouts but then they barged into your room saying one of them is leaving and you have to decide which one of them you are coming with, you pretended to not hear them but deep inside of you, even though how loud the volume was, it suddenly stopped without you muting it, because all you could hear was their love for each other slowly fading away. The second piece was removed when one day some unwanted visitors came into your house and they told you they call themselves as demons and that they brought you things that you cannot possibly return; you opened the boxes and see that those things were called depression and anxiety. The third piece was removed when your so called best friends told you they were always there for you but when you were sitting on a bathroom floor filled with blood and hopelessness nobody came to pick you up.  The fourth piece was removed when you someone told you they will help you find those lost pieces but one day she was just not there, and instead of finding the missing ones, one of the remaining was lost again. The fifth piece was removed when you saw him, the love of your life, loving another being that wasn’t you and when you asked why he told you he just couldn’t deal with someone who was like a puzzle that wasn’t solved, you were about to tell him you were once the one he was looking for but then he told you, oh scratch it, a puzzle that could never be solved. And the last and final piece was removed, because life took it away from you. And then suddenly all of those pieces were lost.


I want to help you, i want to do everything just to find those pieces. But you’ve got to help yourself also. You are the biggest help you need, and maybe, just maybe, those pieces can be found in the most unexpected places. Perhaps the first piece can be found when you’re listening to your favourite song and the lyrics felt like blankets that comfort you when it’s cold and suddenly it felt like home. First piece found. Perhaps it’s the feeling of waking up at 5:30 in the morning, feeling ******, and when you went outside, you saw the sunrise, and realised that somehow you can rise again like that. Second piece found. Maybe it was sitting in a cafe, sipping unnecessary caffeine, looking at the people who were passing in front of you, thinking of how much they’ve been through, and still surviving like you, and somehow that made you feel better, that’s why your face formed an unnecessary smile. Third piece found. Maybe it was when it rained so hard, but it doesn’t compare to your tears, you cried and cried, as the rain poured and poured, then the rain suddenly stopped and the sky formed a rainbow, you looked at it and think that maybe your tears can form colours too. Fourth piece found. Perhaps it’s when you can’t sleep at night, so you just look at your scars, before you thought they were ugly and disgusting, they did nothing to you but made you remember how much of a mess you are, but now you look at them in a different way, they weren’t battle scars, because battle was an understatement on how difficult the things they had overcome. And now you see them as a reminder of how much of a soldier you are. Fifth piece found. And maybe, it was when you decided to go to an art museum, you were fascinated by the wonderful paintings, then you thought, you used to be like those works of art; beautiful and important. But then you suddenly heard one painting, whispering you something, it said, a masterpiece is still a masterpiece no matter how broken it is. Sixth piece, and final piece, found.


So, darling, If by means life took those away from you, you should do everything to get those back. And yes, you will tell me, nothing can bring back those pieces anymore, but you can be a puzzle piece that is solved without the pieces you had before, you can find those pieces without asking for help, you can find those on your own, you can make pieces all by yourself. It doesn’t matter how fast you puzzled it out, the only thing that matters is that you solved it. *You solved the jigsaw puzzle. You solved you.
  **And guess what? You will be whole again. You will realise you always was, and that is the reason you will not let anyone or anything, change that again.


YOUR HAPPINESS SURVIVED...

Did you ever think of
What happened to those glass pieces?

The shattered glass pieces
Held some of your happiness like
A mother breastfeeding a new born baby
It slowly gathered and tried to joined
The remaining left over happiness

Years passed but glass pieces
Never parted with your happiness
And preserved it with lots of care

The broken glass pieces
Still hugs and kisses your happiness
With the hope of giving it back to you

Your happiness is secure & safely alive
With the shattered glass pieces

The remaining life of the glass pieces
Is destined to more breakages

Don't worry if
The glass pieces are crushed, stamped
Still shattered further in more tiny pieces
Disintegrated into powder

Be sure whatever they do to glass pieces
It will not let your happiness go
It's clenching your happiness tightly

Come one day to find how
The glass pieces are living
Come and see the castle of happiness
The shattered glass pieces has built
Naming your happiness "An Angel"

What if I told you that
I am the glass of LOVE that encased your
Happiness and that you shattered...!

(Read the flashback story in NOTES below)


One day when you were a kid
Your happiness encased in glass = shattered
You cried and scambled
To pick up some of your happiness
You wrapped your happiness
with a cloth and put inside the bag
You dropped the bag in a river
But grasp some pieces of happiness
You put some happiness under lock and key
But your happiness was stolen
You tracked down remaining happiness
and now carry your happiness in your pockets
Sometimes, it falls, out, you find it
And YOU cherish what happiness is left behind

YOUR HAPPINESS SURVIVED...

Did you ever think of
What happened to glass pieces?

(Read the poem...)
Amanda  Jul 2013
Pieces of Me
Amanda Jul 2013
Pieces of Me
Take a closer look and you shall see
all these little, pretty, ****** up pieces of me
here they reside for all to see
because I wear them proudly on my sleeves
all these scattered and jagged pieces of me.

Sometimes these pieces of me get lost in their great abyss
from time to time they wander there and scream in an innocent bliss
“Hey, this is beautiful, does anyone else see this”?
These pieces of me are all unique and different
but as a whole they are not all here yet
so the rest of them I will not forget
what is even more, I await them with no regrets.

Take a closer look and you shall see
all these little, pretty, ****** up pieces of me
here they reside for all to see
because I wear them proudly on my sleeves
all these scattered and jagged pieces of me.

These pieces of me come home at their own will
and once we connect, it is me that they fulfill
attempting to whole the person sitting at the windowsill.
But for now, I am sitting here just wishing
all my irrational illogical pieces to just start glistening
and open themselves to a universe that is listening.

Take a closer look and you shall see
all these little, pretty, ****** up pieces of me
here they reside for all to see
because I wear them proudly on my sleeves
all these scattered and jagged pieces of me.

My goal is one day to achieve  
a complex puzzle so beautiful and complete
something everyone could see and think, “wow isn’t that just so lovely”?
A lovely puzzle made from the finest, tiniest, prettiest, scattered, jagged, unique,
different, irrational, illogical, and ****** up pieces of me.
euphoria  Oct 2014
from pieces
euphoria Oct 2014
in pieces
my heart lay scattered
across the floor in pieces
we became friends
from pieces
we evolved into something more

from pieces
she picked up my heart
in pieces
one by one

with glue she gave me
a fresh start in pieces
she put back my heart
she put back my reason

to live
to love
to feel

in pieces i stay until
i learn how to put my heart
back together

to find hope from above
from pieces
she put back my heart
from pieces
she gave me a fresh start

but just like kale goes stale
when ***** hands grip and pull
my heart stays fresh for only so long

it was only a matter of time before
the glue gave way and the pieces broke once more
MBishop Jul 2014
When I say everything is crashing to pieces,
Falling apart before my very unadulterated eyes,
I don't mean it as a metaphor.
No. I mean things are literally breaking to bits.

When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
With every step I take across this suspension bridge, I can feel the ground give way to my weight and endlessly tumble and twist toward its impending demise to the unsuspecting ground below. (Albeit, it has yet to have trouble with the racing automobiles wizzing past me with a taunting doppler)

When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
I have the Midas touch.
Only, when things come in brief contact with my fare skin, they need not turn into gold but rather chaos.

When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
With every flip of the switch comes an explosion of glass bits and fiery yellow sparks shooting awry (give my thanks to the short fuse)

When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
I attempt to live out my usual ordinary uneventful lifestyle, and I leave a wake of destruction in my route to the corner store! (Remind me to apologize to the florist- I'll have to get him some newly birthed petunias)

When I say everything is crahsing to pieces, I mean
I fear cutting onions lest the knife get fed up with being dulled by various vegitables and find its way to my throat, holding me hostage in the kitchen via blade tip to jugular

When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
I would be far from surprised if the monsters under the bed had a mutiny and overthrew their sane captain who keeps them from overturning my mattress every night, bless him

When I say everything is crashing to pieces,
Falling apart before my very mundane eyes, I don't mean it figuratively.
No. Things are literally breaking into tiny wooden splinters.
But don't you for a second dilute your mind into thinking this bothers me in any way.
I've learned to just let the pieces fall where they may
Bad luck
L Smida  Feb 2013
*Puzzle Pieces
L Smida Feb 2013
Life is all about sorting through endless puzzle pieces
Keeping the ones you find fit
And simply tossing the ones that don't belong
But sometimes it's not always that easy
We get confused and overwhelmed when too many pieces are being thrown at us at once
We might accidentally toss a good piece away not knowing so
Or when a piece doesn't fit
Sometimes we turn and angle it in just about every way possible
Until we finally discover that it just does not go there
And the previous pieces we had in place sometimes shift and become distorted with time
Which makes them change and no longer fit in the places they originally belonged
So life consists of a constant fluctuation between gain and loss
It's just the way it goes
If you can search deep enough and find those rare puzzle pieces that are permanent
Constant figures that don't change
Those are what can help you build the rest of your puzzle
But if you're constantly gaining and losing without any foundation
No permanent pieces
You might as well be running around in circles
But then again
There's not much else to do until you find that foundation you're looking for
Some people run in circles all their lives
Others are lucky and build complete masterpieces of their puzzles
But don't give up looking
Those pieces are out there
It's exhausting and you have to be determined
It's easy to lose yourself when you become so tired that you can't tell the good pieces from the bad
You might start building off the bad
Thinking that you're getting somewhere
And then one day you wake up and all those pieces are gone
And you're left with nothing
And have to start all over from scratch
That's when it gets to it's roughest point
But you have to keep building
Trial and error
You have to learn along the way
Get to know yourself
I know that sounds clichè
But it's true
A lot of people don't know who they are or what they want
If you're one of those people
Play around with a combination of pieces
Fit them together and see what you like
The worst thing you can do is lie to yourself
You'll never get anywhere that way
Lying means you're choosing all the wrong puzzles
Take what you like
Put it together
Be aggressive
Be you
Simon Oct 2019
What’s happened! A voice remarked. Why are my puzzle pieces scattered in a wasteland? Another voice spoke up, sounding distant. That’s what I’d like to know! Then more followed. Sounding like a choir of different voices were in effect. Except none of the voices sounded cheery in their perfect chorus on cue. A shriek followed. A wasteland full of shrieks rumbled the ground. Ejecting lots of dust. Blinding visibility across a wide landscape! A landscape full of sand. Governing a deadly waste scouring a dryness accumulating pieces of voices not to far off from one another. Dust from the shrieks rumbling the ground, finally clear. Settling a glimpse at what has been shrieking with such volumes of obscure reasoning. Puzzle…PIECES! Huh? Who said that…? The voice asked, completely taken off guard. What instrument are we trying to provide here? Not sure I’m exactly wondering what your trying to offer by the term (instrument)? Having instruments aren’t folly you know. Another voice interrupting the other voices conversing nonsense. You guys do realize non of what your saying is making any practical sense? Like…at ALL! Huh? One voice replied. Another joining in. Well if your so clever…why don’t you entertain us with how things should really be voiced? Gladly! The more logical voice commented. The voice acting snobbish made a sound. Showcasing it didn’t like being told what it knew and what it didn’t know. The dust has settled. The two voices conversing said on cue. Your point…? No logic, until you display your horizons onto the landscape which shows what we are. One voice replied confused. Logic? Another responded. Horizons? Then on cue again. Landscape??!! The logical voice continued. Just looking around the landscape, which introduces the horizon of who, what, and where you are. Making the logical assessment that, well…everything…is what should have been since the very beginning. Panting for just a single moment. Without claim or focus…the end! The two conversing voices completely dumbfounded, sighed very harshly! Finally deciding to take the more logical one’s words more seriously. Other voices following on cue. Which made all voices look down toward there surroundings. The logical one smiled brightly! AHHH! Another shriek came. O…JEEESSSUUUSSS!!! More shrieks accumulated the wasteland. Prompting more dust to rumble. Popping all over the horizon’s visibility again! So, what did we learn about this very confusing, obscuring display? Well…easy! A voice said from no where. That it was a display of nurturing. Huh…? Really? The one sounding like the narrator drawn in by the voices interest. Ya, well… They stopped to rethink what they just offered in response. Your hesitating. The narrator’s voice sounding suspicious. Ya, well… Not sure how to express what I saw. Still remaining suspicious, the narrator continued. Anda…what is it…you exactly…saw…? The voice from no where exploded all built up energy in one gigantic spurt! There was puzzle pieces scattered in a wasteland! They had no identity to speak of. Pieces deconstructed in a sand covered landscape full of dry essence. And…and… They stopped mid-thought to catch their breath! The narrator didn’t speak a word. The dust was symbolizing ones missing grasp at not figuring out they were all apart of the same form. The same essence. Drying out claims too full of themselves through partial reasoning on potential agreements never going anywhere. Mmmmm…mhm…mmmmm… The narrator seemingly amused by this information. No identity, means no way of connecting to one another. Never to make sense of the premise one could offer. Puzzle pieces stuck in the sands of dry essence. A rut too involved to be just any coincidence. The dry essence covering up each puzzle piece. Muffling there voices forever. They tried to reach out. Trying to make sense of (what could have been). Rather then how to assort their differences into one claim. Working together wasn’t this identities strongpoint. Pieces were arguing too much. Until one seemed to be the most offering of the bunch. Thou…thou… Go on. The narrator said. No one listened to them. Following in the footsteps of one foolish puzzle piece after the other. Until there was nothing to be left, but silence. The voice from no where shrieked towards the narrator’s glaring tension toward the speaker. Laughing in disgust toward the potential risk one poses when reaching out toward its other component pieces.
Puzzle pieces will never learn if each piece doesn’t know how to direct oneself, before connecting with the bigger, more established form. Which is rendered to a mere silhouette full of details invoking a nothingness claim.
Amber S  Jun 2011
pieces
Amber S Jun 2011
whole
well, i was. for a while
i counted all the pieces, and all
numbers were counted for.
it's always so suddenly
bam.
the pieces fell away. some out
the window.
some crashed into smaller pieces
around my feet
some pieces shimmered
some pieces were pink
black, dark green, sky blue
some pieces lacked color entirely
i scrambled,
my hands fumbled
my fingers slipped, trying to
pick the pieces
some pieces cut me
and my blood stained them
dark red.

i stare at the broken pieces
and stare

— The End —