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Kenna Marie Feb 2016
recycling trouble from the past in hopes you'll make time go fast for your slow hourglass
shake the sand, gravitate towards the new plan

pave the ground, it won't be so bumpy now

we tossed the nails to the side, just don't forget the part where you drive
a rock or two will make you swerve, but ruthless words will be there to serve
gas is ready, handy and steady waiting to be levied
the price goes up but our strive runs slow
Amanda Jan 2016
He said he liked her hair long.

She just had a pixie cut.

So, she put down the kitchen scissors.
Letting spring and summer warm her bones.

And then he dared to say
"I miss your high cheekbones and the nape of your neck."
You do you.
x
P.S There's a drawing that accompanies this nonsensical piece.
https://twitter.com/raspberrymanda/status/693667671422816256
PoetryLover Dec 2015
what's more difficult than loving someone you knew could never love you in return?
what's more harder than keeping your feelings inside you for your friendship to sustain?
what's more painful than seeing someone you love, love another person as much as someone loves himself?
what's more farther than the distance between the two of you when you know that someone is only beside you?

how can an individual get through over this if giving up is not an option?
how can an individual stop that kind of feeling when an individual doesn't want to?
how can an individual not feel the pain when it hurts badly inside?
how can an individual escape this restlessness if that's the only thing an individual can do?

why do insecurities running over that individual?
why does someone can't return the love for an individual and left someone's present?
why can't an individual be just as happy as any person in the world?
why does someone can't see an individual through her strengths, love, and even her flaws?

when will an individual be waiting in vain?
when will someone appreciate individual's efforts?
when is the right time for an individual and someone if it exists?
when can an individual forget about every sacrifices she made for someone?

where can an individual find her own through times like this?
where can an individual get her own self-efficacy?
where on Earth will someone meet an individual for just the two of them?
where can an individual hide and cry if the world doesn't conspire her to be with someone?

who will be the involved persons that an individual may encounter during her worst?
who will be there for an individual if someone's already meant for another person?
who can mend an individual's broken heart just in case someone doesn't change his mind?
who should be the one to blame if everything goes wrong and none of you stay kind?

should an individual wait for someone to arrive knowing that someone can't not stay in another person's side?
should an individual have high hopes knowing that another person won't let her someone go to others?
should someone be at least aware of an individual's feelings for her?
should it be the right time for someone to know?

can these questions be answered by someone?
can an individual stop her feelings to have no more trouble?
are you hurting because someone has no answer to these questions?
are you dying because someone can't love an individual?

that's the reality. it hurts.
Ivy Swolf Oct 2015
If there's a way to dig a little deeper into
       a new layer of skin, tap into
something in our bones that hasn't already
       been analyzed and speculated by
doctors under bright white lights on cold
       impersonal tables surrounded by
an army of masked, gloved and
       sanitary conscious individuals-
a method of existing that hasn't
       been romanticized and isn't cliche,
I'd really like to know.

       Because in vicious turbulent cycles I'm falling head first
for things that have been worshipped
       so many times in trance-like
moments of adolescent anguish and
       pretenses of solitude seeking introverts that lie
to themselves cause they don't have
       the guts to do it to others.

Who the hell is alright behind a smile masking a cringe?

       And all the tropes idolized and hymns
murmured by Sad folk
       don't really make you feel special anymore
cause you've lost your individuality
       by stepping into yet another trap.

But then again hating all things has long ago been branded as
       valueless, when in fact
values are the only things you're really searching for.
I miss writing. I miss venting and trying to make sense of it all.
Feedback is always appreciated... Was it confusing, too angry, or just plain dumb? lemme know!
Morgan Floyd Oct 2015
I'm a ghost with a beating heart
trailing the earth, alive but dead
others viewing my dark mind as art
though i perceive it as a quilt sewn together
by the weakest thread.
So much is expected in the world of living
constantly pressured to be perfect
and if you fail it's not very forgiving.
The thing of life is that it's based on a society
this society sets the standards of your worth in life.
It is not known for its wide variety
I roam alone... not living by society but by me
I prefer to be an inspiration.
Everyone is their own individual
no-one should feel pressured to change.
Your soul should roam freely
not locked in societies cage.
The ones similar to I and are making their own path
are unaccepted, because they refuse to do
what is expected.
Typically the living world will
drive them to madness
and creating wounds on themselves
some wounds however
are not visible by sight.
Other wounds are created with weapons
during the night.
Many paths were started but never finished
because many had wounds
that couldn't even be fixed with stitches.
I however never breathe
i fill my lungs instead.
Join me in creating new paths
don't allow societies travelers to
lead you to self destruction
ending with you living under the flowers.
Finish your path
make it great , and do not quit.
The life form you have is lovely.
I started digging my grave, but instead
made a pond for the fishes.
Nothing is worth leaving your path unfinished.
Once you make it to the end of your path
the right way... then you may rest beneath
the stars, under unique flowers.
If it's your desire
you can finish another's path
and set their fears left behind on fire.
Society may be considered life's instructions
but life itself has none
so make your own and start constructing.
For I hope when you're done
the path was worth the trip.
You are your own... no other of you has existed till you and will never exist again. Make this existence the best.
Nathan Squiers Aug 2015
I've always been one for the dimly-lit halls,
The mysterious passages and the potential falls.
I'm not about the risk, though; it's not about the danger.
It's the hope that in the depths I might come upon a stranger.
A stranger with an eye that's seen something I have not;
A stranger with a hand that holds something I haven't got;
A stranger with a rope that will show a new knot.
It's about finding a stranger who can teach me a lot.

I've always been one to seek the lesser known,
To look within the shadows where no light has shown.
I'm not about the darkness; I'm not hoping to get lost,
I'm just hoping for a stranger who will be worth the cost.
A stranger with a pair of lips that tell me unknown tales;
A stranger who's succeeded where many others failed;
A stranger who has navigated all the unknown trails.
It's about finding a stranger who puts the wind in my sails.

My tendencies have earned me a great deal of concern.
I'm told that, should I stray too far, it's unlikely I'll return.
They tell me that my obsession is a danger in disguise--
that seeking out the unknown can lead to one's demise--
But they can't see something new with their old-fashioned eyes,
So while they look down at their feet I'll keep my gaze upon the skies.

What they do not understand and what drives me to my doom,
Is that one should never find themselves the smartest in a room.
One cannot learn all there is; a life can be bettered or it will worsen.
So getting lost isn't so bad if you get lost with the right person.
A good friend of mine inadvertently inspired this with the line that became the title. Based on that (and the desire to prove to them that poetry can stem from any source) I rolled with it.

Hope you enjoy ^_^
Not all those at the top are the best

Not all those at the bottom are the worst

**Some things are just the other way around
Gavin Betty Aug 2015
Strong and beautiful widow,
I see your daily struggle.
I love you and owe you my life...

You wingless angel,
You deserve your halo.
I'm sorry for my many a strife.

Strong and beautiful Widow,
Continue your struggle,
I will make things right.

Just stay with me mother,
Our lives left asunder,
We will pick up the pieces and fight.

I love you.
This is a close up observation of someone I know and love very much; and her struggle with daily life raising two kids.
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
Why make a sound or noise
or do anything to the page?
Unison playing from polyphony,
music evolves toward simplicity.

Gould's assertion that complexity,
NASA, is no more certain than a drunk in his city
weaving, heaving his guts into the gutter;
by any measure, evolution's favored bacteria.

Therefore, the earliest poem taking joy
in abundant crops and the lover's body,
2K B.C., followed by Yeats' Lapis Lazuli
offers the completest hope to us, easily,

for living this life without God's help
or even probability's. We meet
in the meeting house, argue and pray. We sit
with the dead who gave their genes to whelp

ourselves. Today, and then, the one question is
What is the polity's interest in the private soul?
Being free means belonging to the loved ones.
O the individual, alone, cannot be whole.

Governance evolves to democracy,
man accepting sole responsibility
for his thoughts, his wants, his words. Pure,
vibratoless genes from a polyphony of wars.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
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