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Michelle Brunet Mar 2019
How do you decide?
Decide what to do,
What the future holds for you?
I don’t understand, one goal,
One goal that somehow
Supersedes them all.

How do you choose?
When passion flows through you,
For not just one, nor two,
But many life paths, careers,
It all means something to you?

I feel lost, thinking of the future.
I’m floating by, trying to find,
Something that could spark
More than mere interest,
Something that could captivate,
Hypnotize me for long enough.

Because you see, I flit from one
Passion to the next, one minute
I am drawing, the next sewing,
The next it’s animals I love,
Or how about teaching children?

And I sit here empty, not sure
Which path to take, which goal
To make, to work towards,
Because right now, I’m in
The inbetween, no job,
Not in school, what do I do?

But the reality is, I’m trying to find
That one magic passion,
That somehow works with my
Disable body, since almost everything,
I find it all exhausting.
And my mind is spinning circles,
A dog chasing its tail.

Why can’t I do it all?
Why can’t I just enjoy life, enjoy
All of the things it brings,
And take my time, because I’m
So tired, of trying to figure it all out.
Tired of planning, I’ve never been
Too good at planning, when there’s
So many things occupying my mind,
So many things that I desire.

But even then, even then, if I could find
A goal to work towards, a dream job
For right now, well that takes work
And it takes time, because it
Turns out it’s all a ladder that
We all have to climb and being disabled,
Well I feel left behind, not sure
How to move forward when
I also have to go up, and going
Up has always been so draining.

I must work now, to somehow
Get somewhere I would rather be,
But what do you do when most jobs
Require me to be on my feet,
With my level of experience,
And education, limiting me?
It’s like I have to hurt myself
In order to hopefully some day,
Live a better life, I guess that’s why
So many say, ‘suffer now, and
You’ll get your reward later’

I tried university, tried college,
But you see, being disabled,
Has made them  difficult for me.
At least, in the ways that I was pursuing.
And now I’m stuck, trying to find my way,
How to get out of this rut, this mess,
All around me while being limited
By my own body, when I’m so used
To trying so hard to keep up
With the rest of them, charging
At how much money they can earn.

Money, it always comes back to money.
And money stresses me out,
Makes me more sick, gives me more
Pain that I would ever like to be in.
Well, apparently, money is
Supposed to be the solution.

Not so easy when the job market is crap,
I didn’t come from money, so I had to
Start off with nothing, and make my own way.
But where do you start, when
All your ‘now’ prospects seem
Rather lackluster and all you can do
Is prepare for a future.

Strange to think that we’re told to
Live each and every day like
It’s the last one we may ever live,
When we have to spend our beginnings
Stuck in preparing, deciding, and striving
For a future, so hard to make,
When all you started with was
A journal to write in.

I just want to live now,
I want to live everyday,
I want to spend more time
Cultivating all this passion inside
Of me, it’s bursting inside of me.

But there’s this rut, this anxiety,
This fear, of having to build a life,
No, a career. So that I can live
In the future, instead of now,
So that hopefully, we can get by,
Scrape by, by the skins of our teeth.

Tired of working crap jobs,
That I don’t really like, where we’re
Unappreciated, and paid to barely live.
Overworked, underpaid, I’m in so much pain.
My body, can’t stand in this pain,
But that’s all I can do is stand.
In pain, at a cash register,
Or making drinks, no consideration,
Of the struggle it is of being disabled.

Because we all have to able.
Able to stand, to push, to work
Your ***** off, until there’s nothing left,
You’ve given all you’ve got, and then
Some. Soul *******, career bent,
Work too hard, to fit in.
You got to be a workaholic to fit in.

Well I can’t keep up with that pace,
And I see it wearing people thin,
People that have more strength,
More drive than I ever did.
How are we supposed to live,
When you have to work to live,
And, in turn, live to work.
It’s extremely exhausting.

All of this jumbles inside me,
I can’t breathe, can’t decide,
How I’m supposed to live my life
When everything screams
On all sides, that I’m supposed to be
Running, supposed to be rushing,
And that all seems so wrong.

I just want to live a life that has meaning.
Something meaningful to me, that I can
Actually enjoy each moment as it passes
Us all by, I don’t want to rush life
Before it all ends, I’m so tired
Of trying to run in this ‘rat race’
It’s not a race, I need a slower pace.
I demand a slower place.
No more running, no more racing,
It’s time to live in the now,
No fear.
© Michelle Brunet 2019
Cunning Linguist Aug 2015
Through a crowd
of homeless Vietnam war vets
Betcha I'm textin looking for more ***
From ****** galore
Open the back door and explore

Wreck that ***** (then I'm on to the next)
Next level ****, I'm on one at best
Deftly slip a little in your sister's sip
Now I'm caressing her *******
Hoping and praying my conquest ends with ******!
Yes, I confess I'm grotesque,
but I have finesse
I play that ***** like a game of chess

Bare witness -
I only ***** with the fattest of *******
Robbed a ******'s V-card
Now I'm charged with theft

I'm possessed and I have Tourette's
Ingested some drugs at the playground
Now I'm getting undressed
Digest my suggestive rhymes
I'm just a poor kid repressed
Manifest my pervertedness
My mind is a mess,
a nest
of enmeshed ******

And I obsess for excesses of distastefulness

It's disgraceful
My biracial angel
When I go directly from **** to ******
- In the blink of an eye
My *** game is fatal
Robbing the cradle & writing fables simultaneously
Screaming banzai!
Whilst I swan dive
straight into your ***** hole
& disable it

I'm insatiable,
Your mind is impregnable
Cause the impeccable mental images
I paint aren't erasable
Incomprehensible and intangible
Yet undeniable, I'm a despicable imbecile
Gazing in the peephole
Took a blindfolded stroll
down ***** lane and I'm on patrol
for an ocean of blowholes hundredfold

At the club so I dropped a bunch of Ecstasy
Take my shirt off so the ******* can all laugh at me
Tryna get the best of me
So I spite them out of jealousy
And absently drift away
through my mind to pornographic fantasy
My rhapsodic masterpiece
A mental form of ******
Getting busy in the squishy
til I'm dizzy in the hizzy
Swag, I do it valiantly

Turn it up this my jam
~Little ditty, bout jackin Diane~
Still a pity, too bad she's a man
Greasy ***** slap your eggs on my ham
If you'd prefer,
I might lend you a hand
Ram bam
bite the pillow I'm coming in dry
Don't be shy
Turn down for why
Either way have you in chains
by the end of the night

I'm a nemesis
***** slapping feminists
For emphasis
Hit em with a left fist
catching equal rights and ****
Yes I reek of cannabis
Can't handle bars I spit
Snide *******,
blame it on my pride and prejudice... ugh

I'm just a ******* egotist
An unrepentant hedonist
Check out Cunning Linguist
He da hypnotistic lyricist
This is my hypothesis
Maybe I'm just a nihilist
Detonating bombs
Catch me on the terrorist watchlist
Yes my words are devastating
But in your mind are resonating
Penetrating brains til it all begins disintegrating

I'm plastered
Falling over backwards
Mental state is fractured
Now watch me while I stagger
Tell your mother run for cover
Finna kidnap her


Pop pop
Got this **** on lock
Seeing double vision
Catch me jizzin in my sock

Steady speaking nonsense
Nearly unconscious
Bailing from the cops man
Too much Dwayne Johnson
***** have the nerve to call me obtuse
I be that Mr. got ***** the size of grapefruits
Francie Lynch Aug 2015
Warning: Use dis list in context.*

You decide on which side you fall.

disappear
disregard
disaster
displace
disqualify
disrepair­
disturb
dissipate
disability
dispose
dismal
distribute
distrust
­disturb
discriminate
discuss
disdain
disguise
dishearten
disinher­it
disown
disparage
disagree
disgruntle
disclose
discolour
disput­e
disarm
discover
disassemble
disadvantage
disallow
dispossess
di­scontent
discontinue
disrespect
disincline
discomfort
disrepute
d­ishonest
disillusion
dishonor
dismiss
disobey
disjoin
disappoint
­discipline
discord
discern
discrete
disfigure
disconnect
disappro­ve
discharge
disbar
disease
discord
disfavor
disengage
disassocia­te
discipline
discount
disembody
displace
dissaray
disembowel
dis­combobulate
discredit
discourse
disentangle
disenfranchise
disemb­ark
discard
disburse
disbelief
discover
disable
disagree
disinteg­rate
dismay
dispense
dislodge
disclaimer
disapprove
dissatisfy
di­srupt
dispel
dislike
dismantle
disloyal
disbatch
disrobe
disperse­
display
disaprove
disciple
disavow
disconcert
disinfect
disorder­
dismal
dismember
displease
dissemble
disunity
dislocate
distort
­distrust
distress
dissolute
disassociate
distill
discect (?)
distemper
distain
distasteful
distraught
dissolve
dissonant
d­issuade

And dis isn't de end.
Tori Sep 2017
I long to fly

Into the sky

But broken wings

Disable me.



I long to play

But here I stay

Wheelchair bound

Still on the ground.



Look in my eyes,

These grey blue skies,

You’re soon to see

Past broken wings.



My body’s bound

But my soul roams round

The sky of my mind

Where you will find



Imagination abounds

My soul roams round

No chains for me

For here I’m free.



So, though I’m o'erlooked

And my wings are all crook’d,

There’s more to me,

I’ve  a soul with wings
This is dedicated to my little sister who has cerebral palsy.
KB Mar 2014
If I could, I would.
And if I would, I should.
Always wondering why others don’t make change
Before looking at myself and seeing I’m in the changing range
I’m more then capable.
To set chained people free, to disable
All the evil and the hurt,
All the bleeding and the dirt,
I’d pick up every single child,
Bring them back outside the wild
The one painted as far away,
Out of our sights, out of our way.
The people we have labeled as numbers and statistics
As if they don’t have lives and homes, seeming unrealistic.
The little girl I watched with pain on the television.
She watched her family members die, crying, just envision.
Walking on the rubble, as I watch her stumble,
She will be a woman before she hits the age of eleven.
The traumatizing scenes before her; the opposite of heaven.
Is she another number, too, without a life of love?
All this peace we say we want is like a murdered dove.
If I could feed her faith again, and teach her life is good,
Fill her stomach’s starving screams with love she understood, I would.
Add the mother on the street, holding her baby tight.
To protect him from the bombs flying, braving off the fright.
They all have futures bright as the morning sun at noon.
But before dawn is what they see, darkness a filled balloon.
My mother never had to face having her kids in danger
So why would I keep quiet when it’s a stranger?
I look at them and see the same face in the mirror.
If I could tell her he’ll be safe and so will she the same,
Nothing’s going to hurt them, not even their names.
Hand her keys of relief,
Slaughter beef in the streets,
Fill her stomach’s starving screams with love she understood, I would.
And to my brother in Peru, working as a slave
Fields built just for drugs, he’s ordered to behave
Before they cut his hands off, for misconduct, it’s that grave.
Working for pennies, the money is funny.
Revolution’s underway, so lock and load in any range leaving the world unsteady.
If I could tell him he’ll be free, to just wait and see,
The government won’t be mechanical, racist psychologically.
He’ll leave the land of too much distortion, and give him the peace that’s his portion, I would.
How can the light so bright make a man so evil like the times of medieval?
Cold war’s over but we just keeps getting colder
Like we’re filing invisible morals into empty folders
Can you even feel the truth until it comes your way?
Like players pray for hope,
It’s severe what the hopeless will do for play.
Keep shooting rockets at generic topics,
Until the lyrics hold weight unlike 2-D objects.
My people are hungry, tired and sweaty.
Dreaming of revolution looking at the machete.
Innocent children drowning in screams
And we can’t hear them; we’re not a part of the same team.
Acting like the army didn’t bring hell here.
For most people, pile on the blood and the fear.
When driving on a road, construction means we steer
But I’ll get back on track; life isn’t just for me before I die in remorse.
Fight for my lands with words like bullets, loaded with force.
Whatever we take in risk is our matter of course.
Pay attention to change, I know that I will.
Too many dollars down here, I have more than my fill.
So change I will, because my will is to change.
Quit dreaming, its illusions they’re scheming.
But I said I’d bring peace, so ***** the policing.
I said, if I could I would.
And if I would, I should.
Well, I can, so I will.
Make me a martyr, this is not a fire drill.
Make me a martyr. I’d do it still.
Make me a martyr, I’ll prove to you the charter.
Just make me a martyr.
GaryFairy Jan 2016
we keep them in cages
we want all of our friends to see
so we put them on stages
they should be out there running free

my friend on the table
won't stop scratching at the glass
I've chosen to disable
this animal's natural path
This isn't about domesticated pets. This is the reason I don't go to zoos. It is so sad to see that look in an animals eyes.
Damaré M Jul 2013
It's like a jungle sometimes it make me wonder 
It's like a Forrest sometimes it help me flourish 
It's like a desert sometimes I find myself exerted 
I don't know how to word it, so I gather up a excerpt 
My momma always used to blurt it but since I always heard it , Things didn't make sense until it hurted 
Unjust situations did a service , I can't remember the last time when I was nervous
I tried my hardest not to become heartless 
In poverty stricken and drug infested apartments 
They raised us in the slums 
So we raisins in the sun 
Get to the league then our fathers come and try to bake us when we're done 
Already came from out the oven 
Already clubbing and already loving
Been making mistakes 
Got seasoned without his marinade
He never made us a plate 
Forced to be a renegade 
He never made us feel safe 
We're out running from everything 
Then don't know what to do when we make it on base 
Flour for the chicken
Flowers in the vase 
Gun powder in the smith &
Baking soda for the base 
I can't stand the rain coming through my window and we never had drapes 
Slim fast was our ******* so fiends never got in shape
Rent was only $50
So we never had space 
Halloween we had the mask but we Couldn't afford the cape 
So it was only fly if you sold super weight 
God's gate or cell 5 gate
Was our only escape
No DNA 
But we had to share a sub sandwich 
Waterfall a club soda
That's why we relate 
Dozens of "cousins" 
Saw each other everyday so that's why we debate 
It's like a ocean sometimes it makes me hopeless 
Marco Polo never get played, it's real
We dying by waves of violence 
It's like a battle field sometimes it keeps us crying 
Retaliation celebration 
10 years of frequent, but temporary triumph 
It's like a jungle that's why today I'm humbled 
Try to stay away from trouble 
Lost a lot of brothers, so the ones thats left I muffle 
It's like a jungle with tigers, apes, and snakes 
We pray everyday not to become prey 
It's like a jungle 
Only enlightened by thunder 
The trees help us breathe 
The trees bring a breeze 
But the trees is like a tease 
Disable us to follow our dreams 
We can't see the nearest sea 
So we just hunch by the tree stomp 
It's like a jungle 
At times it keep me thinking how do I keep from sinking 
It's like a jungle sometimes it makes us a believer that we gotta have fever just to meet our diva 
It's like a jungle sometimes it make me crumble because the crumbs feed the hunger 
It's like a agglomerate sometimes I forget when the last time I ate 
It's like a collage eventually I can't picture if I have a future 
It's like a jungle where
Lumberjacks never stumble 
Allow our dense vegetation 
To cloud our inspirations 
We come from jungles 
Get older and just want a happy huddle 
And a warm cuddle 
And finances to bundle 
When we make it through our rubble 
From a jungle 
We wonder 
That's all we can do is wander 
That's all we can do is juggle
That's all we can do; is hustle?
Steve Page Oct 2017
Step up to the mic and strike first with a smile of one liners, with observations or tales that beguile them.
For a smile will disable them while your lines slide in behind them, almost whispering, selecting the sharp-soft phrases that will best penetrate those guarded places. Looking with innocence into their faces, turning minds stage by stages, persuading with insights, with stories of real life, with familiar tales of familiar strife. Then when you follow through and strike with the punch line they have no defence and have no time to decline the good sense found in this food for thought, laughing to a sudden realised stop, looking again at their lives, with a furtive smile of dawning delight at the shed light on shared lives found in your soft amplified lines.
- Do it right when you step up to the mic and you just might change lives.
With thanks to Poetical Word, Hounslow London for open mic nights.
C N Kumar Mar 2014
Sights disable me by birth
Father as witness to.
Mother to teach A to Z every time
And trying well correcting my sight.
To leave school, after full fill lessons
To change my disable sight, why?
For my sight, present friends and other people,
Of book tonic, medicine plants,
Traditional treatments
And more other onetime roots,
But nothing change my sight,
At last the order coming,
Wear specs.



To run at 1st street
Saw, wore whole shop in saffron coluor,
In glass chamber, stick saffron bindi in all doll's forehead
And saffron specs covered their eyes.
Add verse  displayed - buy specs
Get rusted lance free absolutely.



To reached eyes on 2nd street
The shop 'n' carpets are green,
All dolls had beard and turban
In theplank advertising - buy specs
Get sword 'n' a bottle perfume free.



In the 3rd street endered my face
Whole room yellow, front dolls, specs,
Everywhere yellow, display text be yellow,
If buy specs, wonderful wine free.



To the 4th street, move my foot
Whole floor blue like the sea,
At shop, dolls, specs, all are blue
Gospel on display board
Seat on heaven be reserve free, buy specs.



Much crouded in 5th street
From enterence and street , to shop are red
Dolls are spectrum of victims, specs are red
slogan of display plank,
Sharpen wooden spear free,
Under puchased all specs.
And stret boys call worst,
Throw ***** of guilty verse,
And much caper plays
At back, a crying noises
That 2nd street, ask a boy brokenly



Passed away whole street,
In which specs for my sight?
And which colour for specs?



I too distruct and move my leg to 6th street,
From door to everywhere crystal,
And the floor pellucid, on the street no crowd
At the shop no doll and display plank.
When wear crystal specs,to see my own me?
To know my friend, colour of appetite,
Depth of love, greatness of hope in eyes.



I pray, with pulsated heart,
And wait for specs on the 6th street.



==============================C N Kumar.
Lucy Crozier Feb 2015
there is a certain liminality to airplanes
even the ones now fixed to the ground,
all museum tours and rot held at bay,
for a while.
yearning for the strain of metal,
a voice calling out safety procedures
(don't tamper with or disable the smoke detector in the lavatory),
and someone who loves them to come back to brush
knowing hands, since gone to claws, over their instrument panels.

in the air there doesn't seem to be a good reason
for planes not to tilt,
tilt down inexorably,
till they kiss the earth again.
all crumpled aluminum and fire
and a small black box
to tell those we left on land
some of how it happened.
I can tell myself about physics and engineering,
about this being my second flight today,
and about how (if nothing else) I made it onto this plane.
the turbulence pays me no mind.

touching down, touching ground, it hesitates.
there's a ghost of movement still.
a waiting. a breath.
the rush of air and engines,
not gone so much as paused,
halted only for a moment.
I am a little afraid of flying
but I'm more afraid of moving on
moving past this moment,
all muscled grace and limbo,
a portion of earth held up in sky.
then we land and walk to baggage claim
while behind us the airplane-
the airplane holds.
version 3ish. Probably done editing.
Jayantee Khare Sep 2017
Jugnu The Firefly  

Once upon a time, there was a little firefly named Jugnu. He was born in the light of the full moon. Everyone celebrated him because; he had sparkling eyes, and a tail that was longer then any other tail in his firefly community.
“We can’t wait till you turn 6 weeks old. We bet because of your tail size you,will shine the brightest at the firefly carnival. It will surely win first prize for our firefly zone.” They would say, as his parents looked on with pride.
When Jugnu was 3 weeks old, when normally a tail would begin the lighting process, nothing happened. He tried changing his diet, and exercising, but no light at all was seen.
It worried little Jugnu but he tried to trust. One day, after a field trip to learn about night-light flying, at school he was bullied. They said, he was a phony, ugly and that his tail was a fake. He came home upset full of self judgements.
“Worry not, sweet child.” His mother said, giving him a firefly hug with her wings. “Remember, you are great just the way you are. Know that there is an inner light within and that never goes out.”
His Father added. “Yes, mother speaks truth. Those who tease are blinded to your greatness even jealous though they may not admit it. The more you give their words power, the more it will disable you. They give you with their harsh words an opportunity to love yourself more. Just ride the energy wind of love and trust all will work out.” He stated, drying his little ones tears.
They all sat together meditating by taking deep breaths for balance. Once done, Jugnu’s parents words began to open his heart and he no longer let his classmates bother him.
Everyday, he continued to eat right, exercise and trust that things would work out. Another week passed and there was no change.
It was getting harder and harder to trust, as the carnival date got closer. Little Jugnu still was filled with doubt.
As the weeks passed, Jugnu even tried adding prayer to his routine. Three weeks, four weeks five weeks passed but still no light appeared.
On the night of the carnival with no light on his tail, Jugnu felt terrible. He judged himself and couldn't bare to face anyone so before the big event, he packed a bag and began to leave the forest.
Jugnu traveled a mile and a half. Suddenly, he stopped and began to cry. By now the sun went down and he knew all the fireflies from the different forests were gathering. It made him feel worse.
When he cried out all his sadness and judgments, a big light appeared in the sky. It moved right in front of him and magically turned into a big firefly fairy.
“Dear one, They call me Justine. I have heard your prayers and have come to help. Though you did your best to trust, eat well and were able to ignore your classmates untruth words, you still carried self judgment and doubt.”
“You must realize you are sacred and weather you light up or not you are a gift with many talents. There is no reason to run away. Just face who you are with love and things will unfold beautifully.”
She took Jugnu under her wings and they flew a while before she spoke again. “The power is in believing in yourself. In sharing the light of love, and being compassionate to all.  And one more thing... but that you must realize yourself.”
They flew all through the country side. The more Jugnu looked at the beauty in the world, the more he felt a warmth build inside.
He saw trees of beauty, majestic mountains and birds who sang grand melodies. He saw rolling green landscapes, and animals moving in harmony.
“I got it! I got it!” he shouted. He knew what was missing. Not only did he need to believe, trust and love BUT, he needed to carry gratitude.
Little Jugnu was ready to return to his community. He thanked the firefly fairy Jolene, and off he went flying at top speed. As he got close to the festivities, he began to shower himself with love.
When Jugnu carried no self doubt, whispering gratitude for all the lessons he learned, he entered his village. Magically, his tail began to shine. It shined in rainbow colors and brighter than anything any firefly had ever seen.
Applause, echoed through the forest. It was an amazing sight whereby there was plenty of light-dance flying, and laughter. He won a trophy for his beautiful tail and it hung tall a top Mother Oak tree.
Next time, you take a walk in the forest be sure to look up. You just might see the shape of a trophy made from fibers of a spiders web and leaves. Then, you know you are in Jugnu’s forest.
As for Jugnu, he had found his inner light and become a master storyteller. He taught old and young the value of love, trust, compassion and gratitude. And he hopes you reading his story learn as well.
Star BG wrote this story on me....i am moved...felt so much  important, honored and liked, that i can't put it in words. Thnx Sbg..grateful.. love you
They say: we, humans, were born for reasons
then blinded for a reason was I?
or, muted for a reason was I?
intricately, not to see the beauty of the world's wonder
not to sing the melody of sweet rhythmic dulcet,
yet precious, perfect unique design
they call I am, God's special one.
I can't see I am, still
I can't say I am thus, still
I can't completely sense I am.
I move, yes, with freedom, a figment, though
yet imprisoned in an eggshell, my deadend
grave I had never.
Johnny Noiπ Oct 2018
And head;  A woman needs proteins
and what we saw;       in accordance
with philosopher R., a life;       from
now on, Bob, But some of them;
Radio noise, virtual image;  Japan's
Light, He runs all OS; A Women's Right
Hand; It's fun;   What's 1 to do the same,
take office in India    Add enjoy the pill,
the selling price is a spy,   1 Our
customer wore hot socks;
We are too slow; drink in Asia;
And the nose, Screenshot:
He who is not an example,
about life, you can not;    Here
there's 1, but Christ, Bob,  and
effluvia groups;     There is no
discrimination in the morning;
This is one of the members,
the first of these is just lazy;
But Lauren's speedy oxygen,
in this case,   The thirst slaked;
do not run from April's mystery
of faith: Accessories and socks;
size small; Recently in Asia,
over the employees, and this is
what it is; a window for him,
Oh, my Holy Place! Glory of praise
and glory     In the magnificent ***!
And;                     A full of proteins;
and mistakes or, in accordance with
A philosophuss of life;   Bob, Bob,
Choose your radio,  Japan's Books
imagine a powerful voice,   Be more
pleasing in all OS's fun; And rely on
women and those in line to stop
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shade;     And the fact that it contains all
windows;   Oh, our work
Admin. praise and glory
Victoria Mar 2014
Why if so many people go through the same thing
Are we all alone

Why if so many people feel the same pain
Do we stay at home

Why if so many people feel incapable of moving
Is there not a cure

Why does this melancholy I feel
constantly disable me to heal

I get up and out
And try a new route
Only to find myself going in circles

Same pain
No gain
The mystery remains

Why we all  struggle with these emotional hurdles
chainedwhore Nov 2014
i suffer from depression and its always been that way...
prozac work best but have side effects that i dont like...

I was always thin when i was younger up until my brother died..
When he died i gained like 30 lbs *** i was so upset and missed him terribly. I also didnt have any friends close by that i could REALLY talk to...(she lived 6 hours away and was going thru stuff with her new man so i didnt want to bother her.)

I so wanted someone to talk to about all my woes but couldnt afford it.
So i masked it with what i could afford and what ive always masked my pain with..

I was molested by my moms ex husband when i was like 4 - 8 yrs old.
I used to imagine myself floating on the ceiling and years later found out why when I read a book about children who are abused weither its physical, verbal, or ******. It said in the book that children who are abused will usually either put themselves into the wall or floating on the ceiling...when I read that I felt so realieved *** I always remembered myself doing this but i didnt understand why i remember doing that.... I thought I was crazy or nuts or had special powers.
It also said that kids who are abused in any of these areas are more likely to drop out of school, commit crime and or do drugs, or all of the above.

Because Ive been an addict and I dont know why.I have gotten into trouble before and i did drop out of school.

I wish I had'nt  done any of them, much less all 3!!

When I was younger I loved to listen to music. I still do. It was like my best friend *** it didnt let me down and wouldnt leave me.....it was always there whenever I needed it and there was a lways a song that could explain EXACTLY how I feel.  My brother had an obsession with it as well and he would like rock or pop his head to the beat.

When my brother died....I felt so lost and so alone...Because only a few people in my life have ever loved me for me.....i guess its unconditionally!!

One was my bro...the other is my son Todd... and the other is my best friend in the whole world and her name is Yvonne but I call her Bon Bon.

They have always accepted me for who I am and dont judge me at all...
They just say "thats the way she is you either like her or you dont".
Because I am very blunt, honest, i dont candy coat things...Alot of people dont like that.....but there are others that think its fine. Its just me.

But anyway....I had a boyfriend when he died that ripped him off before he died and I was so mad at him for doing that...It caused alot of term oil in my family over that. I used to go see my brother ever week and Id stay for at least one night if not both nights and id cook him food and do his laundry (he was kind of disable *** he had a rare case of gout and it made him most of the time wheel chair bound.)and just visit with him...we were really close and when the boyfriend did that it made it weird between us...
and I didnt go see him for the last year of his life...*** he was thinking i was in on it with the ex (but I swear on my life may god strike me dead i had nothing to do with it.) which when he was really sick and in the hospital I mmade the ex take me to see him.

Making a long story shorter...
I at least got to see him twice before he died. Once when he was able to still talk and the other time he was so medicated that he couldnt. But the last time we spoke the last thing he ever said to me was "I LOVE YOU!" and Im so grateful for that....

But I gained weight *** i was so sad that he was gone and still am....

Now my mom on Oct 1, 2014 ..
was given the news that she has paincriatic cancer. Its not cureable  and its the most deadly.
Learning this has made me so very very sad even more depressed *** now Im going to loose my mommy.

It is so sad to think your mom is going to die when shes only 67 yrs old. Shes never smoked or done drugs and has like 2 or 3 degrees in stuff. She was the first woman in the 80s to have top secuity clearence at Edwardas Air Force Base. She was involved in the space shuttle flights (i dont know what she did but she was in the control room doing something) and the SR71 and the Blackbird aka The B-1 bomber. Shes so smart and doesnt deserve this...

I dont do the death thing well at all and i am a depressed eatter. I have gained some more weight learning all of this now with her....

I have been told that Im an UglyPig and will be alone forever from this person (******* really) i used to see and hes on here and is very mean to me talking about my appearance and my devices that i use *** i know of nothing else....

Some of us havent had the best childhood that was happy and wonderful with my true parents..
Some of us have broken homes and had to see our mom get beat up by the ******* who molested me for years...
Some of us didnt feel like we were loved or that we mattered ....its as if we were a blockage for my moms fun.
I know my mom loved my brother and my sister but i dont think she loves me....i think she tries but she just cant or doesnt know how...

My point behind writting this it to tell the ******* that I WILL LOSE THE WEIGHT, AND I WILL STOP USING.....BUT I DONT NEED TO HEAR IT FROM YOU WHAT A FAT UGLY NON EDJUCATED BORE I AM....
I HAVE NEVER SAID WHAT I THINK OF YOU BECAUSE ITS NOT RIGHT AND ITS HURTFUL AND IM NOT GOING TO LOWER MYSELF LIKE YOU HAVE AND BE A **** (LIKE U SAY I AM) LIKE YOU ARE BEING.

I AM GOING TO GET THIN BUT IM GOING THRU THE HARDEST **** IVE HAD TO DEAL WITH IN MY LIFE AND IM DEPRESSED BUT I WILL GET HELP AND GET THIN AND CUTE AGAIN AND I HOPE AND PRAY I RUN INTO YOU......

*** YOUR NOT WORTH WASTING ANY MORE OF MY MIND ON.

EXCEPT FOR .........

grow the **** UP!!!!!
sick of this ******* writting poems about me talking **** when i dont do that to you....and yea ive gainned  weight but my mom is dying and its kinda hard to deal with ....when your mom dies youll know what i mean.
Sorry for those who have read this .....its kinda long) thanks !
Maleficent Aug 2014
I often feel like I don’t belong
Like I am not supposed to be here
This place
This time
Something is always telling me
You are fated to break these walls
And get confused
In the woodlands
Something is always blaring at me
You should be ******* those wolves
Fighting them
Rebelling them
And scorching all the walls
I do not understand
Sometimes I imagine
Is it worth the fight
What is belonging
What does it indicate
That you find your body somewhere in the ashes
And you feel alright
You feel stillness
And you are not bothered
About ****
****** up sheep
****** up wolves
****** up ****
And mess
Disorder.
Sometimes I think
I love the challenge
The glorious unethical feeling of being ******* up so bad
That you are disable
Those cramps my love
Are the reason why we’re here
Those wounds my baby
Are telling you to make it acuter
To make it dreadful
Until it’s worth it
Until the end of time
I know you love it
So you need to **** it more
Until you realize
Why we’re here
Why you belong
With all the non-forgiving cells
With all the beautiful regrets
I know you love it
But it doesn’t mean ****
You don’t belong here
And neither are your concealed pains
Your ***** hands
Your anxious thoughts
We must decease tonight
So that it counts
So that it’s worth it
You see
My love
Where you belong?
A man stood over a disabled man in
A super market to ask him for
A cup of coffee and the second man didn't know who he was and
Told him the ******* and the man
Said please buddy I would like to have a coffee with you and the discord man said please leave me the tuck alone and threaten to thy is his wheel chair at him
And then he said, have a coffee with me you disgruntled koonarri
And the disabled man was offended and held on to the fruit
Cupboard and leaped out and and tossed the wheel chair at the
Man and says nobody calls me a koonarri and gets away with it
And the man stood up in the wheel chair and told another customer to not be scared but the other customer wanted to
Call for shop security because this didn't look good at all
And the disabled man said ok the games up give me back my chair and the man said no, you tossed it in my direction and the disabled man said yeah because you wouldn't take no for an snswer
And the man said you drink coffee and I am willing to give you a free one and the disabled man said yeah but I don't want to have a coffee and the police came and arrested the man and gave the other man his wheel chair back and the disabled man
All this fuss over saying no to his coffee incursion
The man was cursing
But never saw the disabled man sgain
Paul Morgana Jun 2014
Civilized mankind has a unique way,
To party and celebrate a most special day.

Potassium and sulfur, mixed with some coal,
Can reduce a mountain into the hill of a mole.

Gunpowder is thought to have China as a start,
Ceremonies commence, fireworks a part.

I always thought, it amusing to find,
Warfare and festival are two of a kind.

Powerful explosions that disable and destroy,
Have the ability to give the masses such joy.

Here we go, let the bash begin,
Guaranteed to give, your face a grin.

Let's add some luminosity to this summer blast,
Firecrackers and sparklers make the jubilee last.

Pinwheels are nailed safely to a tree,
Furiously twirls colors for all to see.

An aerial assault aloft, hear them roar,
Yellows and greens, in the air they will soar.

Flash flaming fluorescence, blue and red,
Envelop your eyes, dancing in your head.

See the trail of a missile, zipping in flight,
Shiny illuminations, all through the night.

On the ground at the end of a fireworks show,
Blazing stars and stripes, a flag created, watch it glow.

The fourth of July is America's time,
A birthday blowout, drinks with lemon and lime.

This frolicking is filled with food, family and fun,
Independence day, I wish it never was done.

Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Jill Jun 2012
I feel like my inability to tie shoes in Kindergarten was symbolic
Because that was the year I learned to cut strings
Rather than to knot them into something elegant

And now I wish I had been taught with all of the other children

Because if I had
Maybe I would have known
Better
Than to take the red string
That kept him tied to me
And cut it

If I had
Maybe instead
I would have known
How to tie us
Into
Something
Beautiful


But I didn't
And I couldn't

And now I'm completely
Consumed
In my repulsion
For having
Done it
All
Intentionally

But at the time
It seemed so rational

Because the string was cutting off my circulation

Because I felt trapped
And claustrophobic
And tied down

Because when I was five
I was too busy playing with balloons
Rather than learning how to tie my shoes

And because
When I let go of my balloon at that festival
After I had finished crying
And once it had disappeared behind the clouds
I concluded that strings are meant to be cut
Because when you hold onto them
You disable flight

(I wanted to fly)

But I was only five

And my theory didn't account for
anything that wasn't lighter than air

And I'm heavy hearted
I did it
And now I'm finally free
But I've never felt more
Like I can't breathe
Poetic T Jan 2017
As I wiped the blade the congealing efforts of
what had perspired dripped in raindrops of lost essence,
I started to be nostalgic of when it all started and I smiled.
It isn't easy you know doing this hobby
                                        its a full time commitment,
I have responsibilities. And before you ask just because I live
in my moms basement it didn't have any implications to this
and what led to my endeavours of what I do now.

"You cant just go out stabbing people that bath salts territory
for goodness sakes,


Ok when did it start, around fifteen years ago give or take.
To think about it I was quite violated by the sight of blood,
I passed out at school when someone cut there finger. I know
from fainting to where I am today the paradox of it all.
So I was walking home and I thought stupidly to take a short
cut, I know that's just asking for a dilemma of consequences
but I was running late and thought overrode reason.

"Safer than sorry my mother would say,

I should really listen to words of wisdom than to just throw
them aside and regret them later. Well this time was a moment
of ignorance and I delved into my darker side and threw abandonment
to the winds of chance. I saw that idiot and knew without a thought
that his life needed to be forfeit in the eyes of the many.
In haste I went out and without planning I just used a unregistered firearm. These are so easy to find in ponds, lakes, rivers.You just have
to be stupid enough as I was to delve into them with a wet suit.

It was like swimming in the disgrace of humanity and I accidently
swallowed more of humanity than I wish to admit. As I reached
the shore of the golf course I had found a stupid amount of guns....
Do these pools ever get dredged?? how many angry golfers play
on this field?? but I just cleaned a few out not wiping away the prints,
silly little fools leaving there prints on the weapons.

I must admit the first five or six people that were my pleasure
of ending were just **** holes, total and utter ****-tards....
I know you just cant just going around killing totally
worthy munchkins. But it was my weaving of knowledge
into the formula of departing my subjects in a manner so that
a milk carton was the only focus they would get.
Never to show that they were an item of interest but a random appearance of some disillusioned person in a vendetta of misunderstood reasoning's.

But this lost its stimulation of enthralment  pretty quickly
due to the vacant space between us. It wasn't as if they knew
my face, it was just a finger pull and I ended them to hastily,
I even felt somewhat remorseful for them not knowing the
perpetrate of there demise. and a few ran still lingering to this
existence, do you realize the skill set to hit a moving target.
But none got to far, I didn't take it personally, it was a fight
or flight reaction.

But they were always vacant of life when I walked away
from the scene. I was always throwing these weapons
after a few uses, those that had used it before there prints
still viable. So those that had used it were to blame for
these indiscretions that I had partaken in. Karma was about
to visit upon those lost stories that drowned in that pond.

Learning was a curve that was thrown, and one that hit me
square between the eyes. I had slatted the impression that
I was in the right, and even though I wanted to seep the blade
into the flesh of my perspective victim. I had to watch
the implications of what I had preserved  in that moment.
There were struggles and definitions of what was acceptable.

I still had to hold a job, I worked in a hardware store,
"what are the chances, I know. But where you would think
someone that could easily end the breath of another would
stand out only the crazy ones. We the methodical ones were
patient,  too many and whispers starting and I needed silence this
had to be obeyed and enforced by myself. Urges had to vetted
another way and painting was my outlet for these compulsions.

Each one of us had as we called it our own unique ****** kits,
well what did you think we were going to call them hobby boxes.
Me I had a ways to disable my prey, a motion to move them concealed.
I had a people carrier,
                     "I know the humour didn't escape me either,
I had constructed a vessel to keep them static so not to move
and give the game away, kind of like a straight jacket restraint.
For the murmurs I had constructed a gold fish bowl of sorts,
constructed around the neck and then white noise is pumped
in  revoking the screams because of the frequencies of the
human voice.                
                            "science is so cool,

Do you realize it took five years of planning and a college
class in science to do many aspect of this hobby.
But where do I take them, to there own home, always
checking there schedules. Movement = time = opportunity.
And this is how I have worked all  this time, consistency is
what keeps the path clear for other endeavours.
The sense of smell in each home is unique, some people
though no respect of there surroundings and who may visit.

Do realize that some don't voice opinion as they know
if there in this predicament no words are going to change it.
Some struggle, but I learnt to use a paralyzing agent to render
them motionless. Sedated only tears fall from there suspended
features. I never clean up there mess, I'm not a house maid for
goodness sakes all must be as it was. But I clean up my killing
venture so there is no evidence of there parting here.

I have a little spot, we all have our own hiding places,
research is the key, and mine was a secluded place....
I cant explain where, as that would be telling and who
knows who's reading these passages. I must admit though
this is a full time obsession, "norms, that's you people.
Wouldn't realize the stresses that happen upon my psyche.

All I would say is
                 "Don't quite your day job
This isn't really a hobby for most, they don't have the
patience the needing of planning and the waiting of
who shall gift you their last moment then nothingness.
I am wired different to you people. My empathy for
your feelings is non-existent, we are a moment in time
and I plan to silence your hour glass, your grain is about
to fall into oblivions sights and it will swallow you whole.
Because I’m never enough
for anybody,
which of course
isn’t true
But they tell me
that it is
and I trick myself
into believing them
I must be
the worst kind
of *******.
I became mesmorized by the water filter attached to the sink
From ***** to clean the water glides
Doing so to please each humans needs
Water the necessity, the core of living, life, existence
Filling each cup of energy
Filling each cup of life
Filter: a device to remove impurities
My mind drifted and with shaky hands I began to remember
Filter: a device to remove impurities
How similar I though how similar
Filtering , like  my speech daily ,y words altered to be clean
To build into the right sentence, the sentence that fits into a specific place  set and stone
Once it is filtered there is not return to *****
I remember as a child the day I was told to filter
The day I was told to engage myself within myself
To intertwine words in between my bones and hide them there untill they we're spell checked
to play hide and seek, more hiding than seeking
Make sure the words find approval
Ecspecially  through man, because the word man is placed in woman
But woman not in man
As a defiant child I questioned life's reasonings
A woman found me, an adult figure I clung to like the last leaves on a tree
She spoke elgant and quiet
You cannot stand alone young girl you must think before each syllable flys like birds from the cage in your mouth
Suppress your  mind disable yourself so you can exist among the superior
For generations to generations this is the curse
but such a blessing to live
We do not question humanity or the man in the w-o
You were born this way dear you cannot help whats under your skirt
I will train you to deal with the cards you have been dealt
But never speak of my teachings for out loud we are equal
I opened my ears like arms for a hug and stitched my mouth like buttons on a shirt
Ten years later I stand at my kitchen sink and I feel the words under my ribs and the sentences wrapped around my neck
I open my trap to let go of the misspelled words under my ribs
But there gone, seeking and seeking I want all my words back but they evaporated, forgotten among the earth
I take the filter and twirl it in between my fingers
Holding freedom between palms
filter: a device to remove impurities
I pour a glass of ***** water and take a sip, a gulp,
oh. the glorious tast, the glorious taste of impurity
Johnny Noiπ Oct 2018
I asked John about the new girl from the dark
with green pearls; strong; Her current status
making wisdom and advice from them into
the new you gifts and call them;  The prophet
accepted salvation and Drinks from the gods;
There are two different keys; Paper with kit;
The purpose of heaven is not righteous people;
If you are looking for a hair; In the new game
you should wait for stewardship; Wireless,
wireless Jack Christian: The Original;  I found
Lauren recently at home with the alarm set
to alert and I made a complaint in the south
of Einstein's about about 1; It's a big picture;
Real security and truth:          The sea is closed
by the snow which seems to be, but we do not
have a lot of trouble:  Brain The band falls into
pieces when the protection is desired all night
and daylight to rise in the morning;    50 years
in the US has been calculated; Jim Crow &
The Peace Corp, less acne; of course; what
would you expect w / Space The site has gone;
Great is history & Big Bang future;   we know
now the rest is mental psychiatry b b. b.
self-dichotomy self-sufficiency; It's my heart
From you, You live in the middle of it; What do you do
do in part, again, The president of the foot is
1 hundred aircraft; To say this is a *******
of the people, for products Set six steps
to meetings by burning trees;            Pictures in a week
to cheat between bones, bones, bones?
The purpose of an accident is to preserve
Persia, Persian; 11 larger than one;             I remember
that often the result was lost,           Everyone has been
re-educated the fall,             and story In your decision;
Men and women; In the morning;                Especially
in the morning he said: Remove me: This is a product
market and focus group; In fact, enjoying to enjoy
the European Warranty, finding, said his wife
had died, and bugged him not money, yes.
The bill! Look, it's back, It helps to review the test;
typing typing; to **** is not important right now

1 I asked John about the new girl from the darkness;
with perfect green ****; strong; The Current state
runs state wisdom and discretion              is gone
forth from them into the new manifestations
of the gifts and the Prophet finally took the Sand
The food of the gods; That's a big turn-on two keys;
Album with the kit; The reason why heaven
is not a righteous man;  If you are looking for a hair;
In the new game must wait hair solutions;
Wireless, wireless jack Christian:         The Original;
Lauren recently at the home of error alarm
and say sorry in the southern Jewish civilization
called Einstein 1;        It was a great image;
Security and honest pleasures:
A region is closed,
through snow,    which seems to be,
is not composed more than to thee:
split-brain theory fell to
pieces when the right brain  
wanted to stay up all night
& left brain had to get up in the morning;
the 50's in the
US was schizophrenic;            Jim Crow
& the peace movement side-by-side, on acid no less;
of course; what would u expect
w/ a Space Race going on;      the Big One is history
& the Big
Bang the future; we know now that left brain-right brain
thinking is as much b.s. as the false body-mind dichotomy;
My heart is;
From thee,
it moves towards the center of thee;
                            What are you doing
on the arm, again,          President of the foot is airborne
1 degree;                         To say that this was a *******
of the people,                               for the sake of Products
Offer six steps to the exit
through the Burning trees;
The pictures have had a week
to cheat; among Bone bones, what are bones, bone?
In case an accident;
And right in the Persian Asia;     11 greater than one;
I remember that many times are not always the result
of a hidden manner, All of a decrease in the fall,
and the story In determination; Men and women;
In the morning; Especially in the morning,     and he said:
Remove me:      This is the sales of the market in shadow,
and hair; It is important,                      the darling to enjoy
the European;      Copyright information about the search;
And he said,         and his wife died of it, Because they did not
have the fee, Yes.                      The bill! Look,       that returns
the cat to temptation;

typing typing;           to **** is not a great number
of the The ***** were dead,                 I have been drunk?
Suddenly, my ***;                        But those who have him,
and took hold of him,                           He went on to sleep
because it has Since we know the ***;
Although being able to learn; But you feel good
The Jews were prostitutes times leader is always
great for the program the timber out of the sea,
and to me, and of images,                   the sovereign night,
Digesters number of prostitutes mountains;
I love that song is immense confusion;     and the Asians,
listen to the girls, so that he at first determined the AI
what they want to, not to the words, that I might do for you?
Down, Einstein ... Here, after a while In South China,
the minutes are welcome;                   When is  the girl,
and does she not have to It is unknown wasted money;
she walked From the Objects, drinks: This is the blood,
sand death, clothed with an ax;                      in theYear of Our Lord,
that            they consider it          to prevent it;    Referring to the fact
you want to go;                                You do not have to walk too late
to the Museum;                                   The source of electric chicken
is in; The Greatest Con             Basquiat
but the time of the great lakes
Foundation the case of our misery and wine
He was enthusiastic, ***** and Gomorrah
He shall also set it up in the boat,
with great injury to our mind,       The angels,
let him be the peace of heaven, or when did that
the war should bear upon; Reduces the stress
on the marriage; true contact White House
"white zombie days of glory, naked pictures of the bride,
the two girls were bombed,   saying:             Two doors
as the numberless grains of sand of the sea;
which is the death
                                               of all of the Jews?
And enjoy,                     shall be entirely rated;
And the new change,        to change the truth
balanced; When coast of Asia; 1,    and
Heart; 6 night Director, Developer, Baker,   to build an altar,
to ensure that it always exists And in the rural area in Asia,
huh, does not help,               The child was born by mistake

I asked John about a new girl from the dark;
with green green birds; strong;    Current status
making wise states and ideas out from them
into the latest displays of gifts and that the
Prophet accepted the victory; Food of the gods;
Keypad has two keys; Album with kit; The purpose
of heaven not a righteous man; If you are looking
for a hair; In the new game it should wait for hair care;
Wireless, wireless Jack Christian:         The Original;
I saw Lauren recently got home to an alarm warning
and I said depression in the southern Jewry
of Einstein called by 1;     It's a great picture; Security
and true enjoyment: The region is closed, by the snow,
which seems to be, but we are not too complex:
brain-crafted The team falls into pieces when
the bulb blows stays all night and mental brain
to get up in the morning; the 50 years in the US
is calculated;    Jim Crow & The Peace Corp,
less acne; of course;   what would you expect
w / Space Space is going;        The Great One
is a story & the Big Bang future;      we know
now the rest is brain psychiatry b b b. as false
self-dichotomy ara-ara;     It is my heart From her,
you move to the middle of it; What are you doing
In part, again, President of the leg is a plane
1 degree; To say that this is a *******
of the people, for products Provide six steps
to the meeting by burning trees; Pictures in a week
to cheat; between bones, bone, bones?
Why an accident;    And right now in Ancient Persia;
11 are greater than one; I remember that many times
are not always the result of the hidden way,
All that decreases in the fall, and history
Is in its decision;
Men and women;
In the morning; Especially in the morning,
he said: Remove me: Here's the sale
of the product in shadow and hair; Importantly,
enjoyment to enjoy the European; Warranty
by finding; He said that his wife had died to him,
because they did not in the bill, yes.      The bill!
Look, he's back,
It helps to test;

typing typing; to **** is not a bigger one
of the joints have died, I am drunk?        Suddenly,
my troubles; But those who have it,
and he took him, and went to sleep
because you have been sexually abused;
Although you are able to learn; But you feel good
The Jews are prostitutes often leaders
The theme for the program is wood from the sea,
and to me,               and the pictures,                  night nights,
Digesters number of prostitutes hill;
I'd like that music to be a great destruction;
                                               and the Asians,
listen to girls,                            so it's first AI
What do they want, not in terms of words,
that I can do for you?
Down, Einstein ... Here, after a short time
In South Dakota,
minutes are acceptable;                    When was the girl lost
and that you do not have It is unknown money loss;
you walk from Things, drinks:                   This is blood,
the sand of the sand, the slopes; in the year of our Lord,
to be cautious to prevent it; Searching for truth
you want to go;     You do not have to walk long enough
to the Museum; Lots of chickens of fire
you are in;      Also the Great Basquiat
but the time of the great lakes
Set the cost of depression and wine
Interestingly, ***** and Gomorrah
He will again carry it into the ark,
with great harm to our souls,                 Angels,
let it be the heavenly peace, or when it does
the war must stand;
Disable the problem again
on the wedding; real contact with White House
"The Zombie White Days of Glory,       Indoors
of the bride, two girls were bombed,       saying:
Two doors
as seeds have no value of sand of the sea;
which is death,           Ring size without cut
Say that ****** of yours;                       Jews
is arrested;        wearing the precious pearls
winter love;        he burned them in his fire,
the shadow of *** has come to know whom I set up
to the faces of the gods,
Inwarding Sharing their permissions
can be delayed if it is true, It goes away
from what we know,       you'll find the Jews of Satan
          are adulterers
move to those who sit on more than that
The rulers of the kingdom, almost all,     are one line
Often it is done where a great thing is or
before the paraphenal tree and
versionsof a powerful one of great value
digester, the Saint of the prostitutes
and many, to the mountains,                      to a picture
of great dreams; To set the memory
on the first they thought the girls were in the air
of Asia, which he hath heard; They
The right to do so must be strange to us
man to come into a hole that is so ...   of all the Jews?
And the enjoyment will be fully satisfied;
And a new change, to change the truth
balanced; When the coast of Asia; 1,                    and
Heart; Director 6, Developer, Baker, to build an altar,
to make sure it's always And in the rural area in Asia,
huh,                                              We're born the baby

I asked John about a new girl from the dark;
with precious stones; strong;    Your current location
making wisdom and advice from them
new gift gifts and them; The Prophet
to save and to drink of the gods;
There are two different keys; Paper with kit;
The purpose of heaven is not a righteous man;
If you are looking for a hair; In the new game
you should wait for stewardship; Wireless,
wireless Jack Christian: The Original; I have seen
Lauren recently got home with an alarm set
to explain that I was diagnosed in the south
of Einstein is about about 1; It's a big picture;
Real security and truth:        The sea is closed
by the snow that seems to be,     but we're not
have many problems:  The Scooter drops into
pieces when we want safety all night
and the light of the day to rise in the morning;
50 years            in the US has been calculated;                     Jim Crow &
Corps Peace, less acne; of course; what
will you expect w / Space The site is gone;
Great is history & Big Bang future; we know
Now the rest is diagnosis b b. b.
self-dichotomy self-sufficiency; It's my heart
From you, You live in your midst; What are you doing?
done in part, again, the president of the leg is
1 hundred flights;        To say this is a *******
of the people,                for products Set six step set-up
to meetings by burning trees; Pictures in a week
to make a cheat between bones, bones, bones?
Why accident is to keep
Persia, Persia; 11 larger than one; I remember
that always the result is lost, Everyone has come
re-study the fall, and story In your decision;
Men and women; In the morning; Especially
in the morning he said: Remove me: This is a product
market and side focus; In fact, the enjoyment to enjoy
European support, finding, told his wife
dead, not to give him money, yes. The bill! Look,         it's back,
It helps to review the trial; typing typing; to ****
is not important now
Pisceanesque Jul 2015
I watch in retort
as you blunder
over causeways
of stammering lies,
hurtling weathered blows
from your
mournfully
tarnished
mouth.

The sound alone
asphyxiates me
and I would rather it hurry
than disable my
regal silence
with the screeching noise
of your
thunderously
garbled
deception.
© Tamara Natividad
www.pisceanesque.com
Written 20 September, 2014
-
Mark Sep 2019
I've got the rhythm, but don't look anythang like a Nashvillian soul    
Been living on the streets, so I ain't been on any **** census role    
I'm not my mother's natural birth child, without any apology    
But I’m god’s chosen and gifted, finger picking, guitar prodigy    
   
Sun lights up the whole **** town, whilst it's still night-time    
So, save your smoke doping act, 'til the dark of the daytime    
CUCKUK, CUCKUK, cruisin' down some unnamed highways    
That's what y’all be not knowin', 'bout da Tennessee ways    
   
My Mama once said, just do your music or do something else    
So, I'm legally insane and uncomfortable to be with, I guess    
I don't actually see myself living anywhere forever    
But, how'd ya know, that you've actually arrived, wherever    
   
Sun lights up the whole **** town, whilst it's still night-time    
So, save your smoke doping act, 'til the dark of the daytime    
CUCKUK, CUCKUK, cruisin' down some unnamed highways    
That's what y’all be not knowin', 'bout da Tennessee ways    
   
If they don't ever remember the month or day, since leaving    
Families gettin' together, telling lies, now police intervening    
I sometimes have to forget that I wrote it, to be able to like it    
As long as fans think dope of it, why bother to disable the ****    
Hoed fresh corn all day, everyday, been up since the crack of dawn    
Pretty plenty of backyard swamp talkin' catfish, have since been born    
   
Sun lights up the whole **** town, whilst it's still night-time    
So, save your smoke doping act, 'til the dark of the daytime    
CUCKUK, CUCKUK, cruisin' down some unnamed highways    
That's what y’all be not knowin', 'bout da Tennessee ways    
   
He'd hit a rabbit a sittin' and killed it with the barrel of his gun    
While the dang hammer was a peckin' a wild hog to death    
Like gettin' outta control and hardly takin' a shot of breath    
Or being a drunken redneck, on a 7 day weekend hillbilly whiskey run.
I wrote this for Sunny War. She is a great guitar picker , originally from Nashville, but since the age of 13, she has been living on the streets of LA, USA.
I am in love with the brightest days;
That all rots and dies of their sins,
In what is called their burning minds,
In what is called the merit of mine.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That all souls adore and salute sunshine,
That all is destruction that I can see,
That no pain is to be borne beneath me.

I am in love with the brightest days;
On which all are a mess less faithful,
That they are the betrayal they meet;
I am the destruction the poet writs.

I am in love with the brightest days;
For such days are dead to compassion,
Neither literature it is, nor passion,
None of the good poetry shall remain.

I am in love with the brightest days;
The roseate joys of the evil moon,
And the yellowness that writhes like me,
And shall be drowned, like me.

I am in love with the brightest days;
And the leaning branches that sway,
The leaves and roots that soon forget,
The unchained heart that shuns truth.

I am in love with the brightest days;
In me is a sanguine fear of faith,
A blinding rose and denial of joy,
A hesitant fire of madness.

I am in love with the brightest days;
I delight not in sweet foreign ways,
I am a shunned temper myself, from within—
I am still blind, I am still not seen.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That no rain remains and clouds are sins,
That the skies are but no flattery to me;
That roads are too blind and shan’t see.

I am in love with the brightest days;
For my shine makes it hard to read thy poem,
And shall blind utterly verdicts and prose,
I am the evil bud of the devil’s rose.

I am in love with the brightest days;
For none in coldness shall stay shimmering,
And who shall forbid the curse of snow,
I shall not hide at dusk, and in the morning.

I am in love with the brightest days;
For no sun in sight shan’t see tomorrow,
And what malice hides by the snow,
With gruesome lies by the forgiving rain.

I am in love with the brightest days;
For all favours me, a great stupor,
I shall deliver those impending pains,
I shall make decay all that remains.

I am in love with the brightest days;
For all is tumult that they can’t see,
For none in their dark nest shall see me,
For none of their joys stays with me.

I am in love with the brightest days;
I crave for all poignant walks and ways,
And no misery to me is deprecating,
And no lyric to me is love.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That I can but writ my own verses,
While ‘tis in my fate, my being not,
The fatal destiny I was born for.

I am in love with the brightest days;
For all the dark is too cold to see,
Nor an ecstasy to my rabid hands,
Just a minor of the vile rain.

I am in love with the brightest days;
All cold things are spoilt for me to see,
Nor an indulgent touch to my senses,
A hindrance to the earth’s lenses.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That thy dark love has failed me to see,
And not by thee shall I want to be,
I want to be the brightest on my own.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That the devil is but all over me,
That my own mind has lived without me,
That my sight is numb, that I cannot see.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That the bad is born, and grows in me,
That my own hatred has left me,
That my conscience has fallen away.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That my sullen memory has hated me,
Leaving me for the rain in my wake,
Leaving me for the winter it makes.

I am in love with the brightest days;
For the sultry rain lulls me to sleep
And the night makes me weep so deep,
That I but fake myself in my slumber.

I am in love with the brightest days;
And guess who teases the stars awake
While the night makes us love so true,
That I but anger thy verses anew.

I am in love with the brightest days;
And guess who makes the sky so blue,
All is hatred in my red chamber,
All is hurt, an eternal wound.

I am in love with the brightest days;
And whose words but disable thy poems,
When all I do is but shine on who writ,
When I shan’t ruin the words that meet.

I am in love with the brightest days;
And whose spell makes daytime brilliant,
With a shine so idyllic in its doom,
With a pink shade so thick as idioms.

I am in love with the brightest days;
And guess who makes daylight so true,
With rainwater so awash with gloom,
With dusk so laden with tears.

I am in love with the brightest days;
And guess who makes fall foliage appear,
With such dryness that is ever here,
With such droughts that are near?

I am in love with the brightest days;
And guess who shows the morning anew
And makes you swim across sweet daylight,
Who weeps for you outta cold nights?

I am in love with the brightest days;
And guess who makes daytime so sweet
That all souls roam about on their feet,
Who shall make the world alive?

I am in love with the brightest days;
I admire my soul’s reddish complex;
But others leave in their flamboyance,
Neglecting light by their arrogance.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That I have attained my shades anew
That I have my rose-gold to me,
That all is physical and lovely.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That all is alive and sees again,
That all is the heart of me and man,
That all is ****** and beauty.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That all that remains is putrid lust,
With a passion for flesh and dust,
With tongues on thine, and lips on mine.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That all that hurts becomes love,
That to desire has love awakened,
That love is flesh, love has shortened.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That all that pains becomes joy,
And there is misery in delights,
I only find love on moaning nights.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That the wrong has my saluted joy,
And all thy warmth shall turn to heat,
A heat that assaults and shan’t die.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That only evilness shall see my yule,
That only light leaves all breathless,
That only redness entertains me.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That moronic love shall foam their ways,
That all are lies that can destroy,
That all devours the sweetness of joy.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That such love of theirs comes from within,
Where I’ll be an unfaltering pain,
And my joys are a writhing abyss.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That I shall be the one to laugh,
To live and love of my own accord,
To sing a song with my weird chords.

I am in love with the brightest days;
The ones of everlasting fears,
That one shall be their own poor peril,
To come and go and shall come again.

I am in love with the brightest days;
The one in which no more can cheer,
That one shall consume their own evil,
To go and fade and have gone again.

I am in love with the brightest days;
I am not a beast to their pale sight,
Nor are they beastly to me;
They feed off my venom and my beauty.

I am in love with the brightest days;
I am not a poison to their light,
Nor are they poisonous to me;
They drink off my heat and my sea.

I am in love with the brightest days,
I am not too hesitant nor bashful,
I am not a love nor truth like rain,
I am not one of those Northern souls.

I am in love with the brightest days;
I am not the shy moon nor the sky,
I am not the bold nor the right,
I am the sin, not the Northern Light.

I am in love with the brightest days;
I am in love with not being love,
I am in love with not bringing love,
I am in love with not feeding love.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That all love shall be gone for good,
Nor are there facts to remain in truth,
All shall stay and die, as they should.

I am in love with the brightest days;
That love is pain all the night and day
That any living form shan’t live for long,
They are to fade within my robbed song.

— The End —