POETRY With Mia Isabella - Share Yours

[MiaIsabella1985]

I love to write poetry and have been doing so for years and I would like to share some of it with you and hope you have some to share.


SINCERE JOY


The way that your voice pulsates when you speak to me shows that your sincere

I've never experienced desired affection so I shield myself and heart with fear

The what ifs enter my mind and my thoughts begin to spin with the idea that maybe, just maybe this attention could evolve into a delicous indulgent sin

How can you entrap my spirit and penetrate my walls with the way that you speak? Only to arouse my emotions to their very highest peak

And what if your conversation isnt mine alone? And you spend your days with someone else while I sit at home alone

But if I only knew your heart and if you really knew mine, there would be no one else to whom you would talk to or even want to spend time

My love and loyalty would ignite your heart to implode, and from this fused connection your passion for me would explode

So please dont play with my heart as if it were a toy, instead nurture it with honesty and bring from me sincere joy

[Jericho]

I like poetry, it always comes from the heart (though, it has to be said, there's a fine line between poetry and self-maudlin pity).
Didn't 'speedius' have a poetry thread going at one time?
I like your poem, but, if you don't mind, i'd make some edits:

SINCERE JOY


The way that your voice pulsates when you speak to me shows that your sincere
The way your voice pulsates when you speak to me shows that you're sincere

I've never experienced desired affection so I shield myself and heart with fear
I've never experienced desired affection, so I shield myself, my heart, with fear

The what ifs enter my mind and my thoughts begin to spin with the idea that maybe, just maybe this attention could evolve into a delicous indulgent sin
The what ifs enter my mind and my thoughts begin to spin, with the idea that maybe, just maybe, this attention could evolve into delicous, indulgent, sin

How can you entrap my spirit and penetrate my walls with the way that you speak? Only to arouse my emotions to their very highest peak
How can you entrap my spirit and penetrate my walls with the way that you speak, only to arouse my emotions to their very highest peak?

And what if your conversation isnt mine alone? And you spend your days with someone else while I sit at home alone
And what if your conversation isnt mine alone? And you spend your days with someone else while I sit alone

But if I only knew your heart and if you really knew mine, there would be no one else to whom you would talk to or even want to spend time
But if I knew your heart and if you really knew mine, there would be no one else to whom you would talk, or even want to spend time

My love and loyalty would ignite your heart to implode, and from this fused connection your passion for me would explode
My love, my loyalty, would ignite your heart to implode, and from this fused connection your passion for me would explode

So please dont play with my heart as if it were a toy, instead nurture it with honesty and bring from me sincere joy
So please, dont play with my heart, it's not a toy. Instead, nurture it with honesty and bring from me sincere joy

[tstv_lover]

It's a very sad poem. I find the process of writing poetry can help deal with stressful situations, can be very revealing and is much more important than the result.

Thanks for sharing.

[Alyssa87]

a fellow poet.
very nice.

have u checked out Brave New Voices on HBO?

my new favorite show.

[transmaven]

Philip Larkin - Sad Steps

Groping back to bed after a piss
I part thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.

Four o'clock: wedge-shadowed gardens lie
Under a cavernous, a wind-picked sky.
There's something laughable about this,

The way the moon dashes through clouds that blow
Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
(Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)

High and preposterous and separate -
Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,

One shivers slightly, looking up there.
The hardness and the brightness and the plain
Far-reaching singleness of that wide stare

Is a reminder of the strength and pain
Of being young; that it can't come again,
But is for others undiminished somewhere.

[T-girl hound]

Wow I write a lot of poetry, done some shows in alot of places in the U.S., this is actually a great thread.

[T-girl hound]

a fellow poet.
very nice.

have u checked out Brave New Voices on HBO?

my new favorite show.

I actually know or have met about 5 people on that show, it's some real talent in that youth group from FLA

[miner]

Mia, your poem was enjoyable. It's reminiscent of the works of William Wordsworth. If you haven't already read his poems, he may delight you.

Miner

[Alyssa87]

a fellow poet.
very nice.

have u checked out Brave New Voices on HBO?

my new favorite show.

I actually know or have met about 5 people on that show, it's some real talent in that youth group from FLA

ft.lauderdale?

yeah. one of them, Diego is FINE.
he makes me feel like a pedo.

[transmaven]

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.—Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.



William Wordsworth, 1806

[MiaIsabella1985]

a fellow poet.
very nice.

have u checked out Brave New Voices on HBO?

my new favorite show.

I actually havnt seen that show but I did see the previews and the speakers seem to be very powerfull in expressing their writing vocally

[Alyssa87]

a fellow poet.
very nice.

have u checked out Brave New Voices on HBO?

my new favorite show.

I actually havnt seen that show but I did see the previews and the speakers seem to be very powerfull in expressing their writing vocally

its inspiring really.
a good poem, slammed correctly- is like catching the holy ghost.

i REALLY like your poem, Mia.
I searched thru my stuff to find something similar that you might like...

(To HA: i AM NOT looking for criticism.
i am not a performing or published poet. and im not looking to be)

(About a Man)
I don't write poems about boys and men.
Despite attraction- internally, I resent them.
Beneath it all, I know what they intend
A guaranteed freak, a secret Tgirlfriend.
They're the same boys I went to school with
Before I came to be who I am today.
That intimidated and alienated me.
But that's another poem entirely, ok?
They're just grown up versions
Who have taken a liking to my bodily changes.
So I'm conflicted about the ghetto messes
After sexual exchanges.
Therefore, how dare I taint my artistry?
Which has carried me, miraculously
Through turbulence- consistently…
With those who have no regard for me?

But this recognizes something special.
He's no ghetto mess. Trust me.
Embodying virtues of rarity,
He has inspired me to contemplate on him- poetically.
I'm not a lesser version of myself when I'm with him
He prefers me- wholly. And reciprocates honesty.
I'm prompted to be a better me. Knowing I have someone looking at me expectantly.
He sees my greatness. And encourages excellence- though perhaps unknowingly.
To my genuine surprise, he kisses me with open eyes.
Peering into my consciousness, where my laws of physics are defied.
He makes love to me past my being
I close my eyes and I exhale
And experience a bliss, unparallel.
He captivates me with his very ideology.
I often am shocked how similarly we perceive things
Being that I regard myself philosophically eccentric,
How fitting it is that this is what the universe brings.
Star-crossed lovers.
Shakespeare never did resonate like this.
I found his pictures of romance overstated
But perchance!… they exist.
It's better than storybooks though.
Fantasy doesn't cloud what's real.
He's my man. And what a man he is
For inciting what I've come to feel.

[yodajazz]

a fellow poet.
very nice.

have u checked out Brave New Voices on HBO?

my new favorite show.

I actually havnt seen that show but I did see the previews and the speakers seem to be very powerfull in expressing their writing vocally

its inspiring really.
a good poem, slammed correctly- is like catching the holy ghost.

i REALLY like your poem, Mia.
I searched thru my stuff to find something similar that you might like...

(To HA: i AM NOT looking for criticism.
i am not a performing or published poet. and im not looking to be)

(About a Man)
I don't write poems about boys and men.
Despite attraction- internally, I resent them.
Beneath it all, I know what they intend
A guaranteed freak, a secret Tgirlfriend.
They're the same boys I went to school with
Before I came to be who I am today.
That intimidated and alienated me.
But that's another poem entirely, ok?
They're just grown up versions
Who have taken a liking to my bodily changes.
So I'm conflicted about the ghetto messes
After sexual exchanges.
Therefore, how dare I taint my artistry?
Which has carried me, miraculously
Through turbulence- consistently…
With those who have no regard for me?

But this recognizes something special.
He's no ghetto mess. Trust me.
Embodying virtues of rarity,
He has inspired me to contemplate on him- poetically.
I'm not a lesser version of myself when I'm with him
He prefers me- wholly. And reciprocates honesty.
I'm prompted to be a better me. Knowing I have someone looking at me expectantly.
He sees my greatness. And encourages excellence- though perhaps unknowingly.
To my genuine surprise, he kisses me with open eyes.
Peering into my consciousness, where my laws of physics are defied.
He makes love to me past my being
I close my eyes and I exhale
And experience a bliss, unparallel.
He captivates me with his very ideology.
I often am shocked how similarly we perceive things
Being that I regard myself philosophically eccentric,
How fitting it is that this is what the universe brings.
Star-crossed lovers.
Shakespeare never did resonate like this.
I found his pictures of romance overstated
But perchance!… they exist.
It's better than storybooks though.
Fantasy doesn't cloud what's real.
He's my man. And what a man he is
For inciting what I've come to feel.

Thank sincerely Mia, for sharing your poetic thoughts, in verse. Alyssa87 you are a true poet. I remember being inpressed with something that you post a while back in the stories section. However, I am posting a poem which could be considered an anwer to your excellent poem.

Him Instead of Me

Its such a pleasure to see a beautiful woman in love
The look in your eyes sends my heart to the skies up above
A more lucky man, there just can’t be
I just wish that instead of him, it was me.

Such a beauty you are, but I see your heart on your sleeve.
You could get any man to ask for your hand, I believe.
Now our chances with you are slim.
Because the warmth of your affection; it shines on him.

Well I don’t mean to pry, but I can’t help that you catch my eye.
Love gives you a look that just doesn’t lie.
It’s just so amazing to see a soul fly.

But I wonder how long a show like this will run.
Because I wonder for him, if you’re really number one.
But whatever your number may be, he’s got your number; that I can see
I just wish that instead of him it was me.

[a994]

That's a good poem, Mia.

So, who are your favorite poets?


As for me, here's a poem I wrote over a year ago:

Fall 1982

Soundtrack
gongs gently
blow in the breeze

Billowy clouds cover
the cerulean ceiling
coolness of atmosphere

Flashback
Fall 1982
sophomore high school
pale sweater Houston afternoon sky
overcast Design marker cool grays

Everything a Design
Pantone
Magic Marker drawing
thin black Illustrator pen lines
radio oozing pushing
grunting out Phil Collins
office music synth notes
pale jade green sweater day
cool air for once
scented with xylene for some
cocaine for others
and vehicle exhaust for all

Falling
minutes pass
radio no longer on polyester
office mode
Other hands have
switched the station
speakers now spraying
Nasty Attack of the
Electric Beat It Avenue
Billie Jean You Don't Love
Me Anymore
Subdivisions Ain't Gonna
Break-A-My Stride Vacation
into the air
that I ignore
entranced
by the clouds
that promise rain
and deliver contentment

But only for moments
that and no more
as I do not have
the Design
Pantone
Magic Markers
to place onto paper
and translate for eyes
(including my own)
how I feel about this
and any other
day

[bte]

-Pieces (One Day)-

One
Day
This temple will erode
But today it will stand another day
But when will it start to crumble down?

We built this place
Stone by stone
We constructed our palace of happiness
Now it filled with malice

One day,
This temple will crumble down
One day,
This temple will cease to exist
One day…

We lay in the chamber of love,
But what happened to it now?
Blood decorate the walls
Please dear, just let me fall
Into this sweet oblivion

At first I said that I don’t want to feel this overwhelming hostility
I said that I don’t want to feel this overwhelming hostility
Hostility

Now I’m swaying
In the trees
Through the breeze
Trying to filter out my memories
Of this past life
My own life
You keep on killing me

Now I’m swaying
In the trees
Through the breeze
Why are you killing me
I gave you everything
That I could possibly could ever give you…

We were catastrophic lovers
Deep in the covers
Wrapped in this shield of love
I know that the pieces fit
Cause I watch them slowly tumble down
Though no fault that could separate
We have pointed the finger at each other
Refused to let our souls uncovered
The one key of detrimental
What we needed was communication

Now I’m swaying in the trees
My body filtering through the breeze
This rope is your words that is choking my throat
Constricting all I ever known

One day,
This temple will erode
But will it stand another day?
One day,
This temple will crumble down
And there will be nothing left.

[MiaIsabella1985]

a fellow poet.
very nice.

have u checked out Brave New Voices on HBO?

my new favorite show.

I actually havnt seen that show but I did see the previews and the speakers seem to be very powerfull in expressing their writing vocally

its inspiring really.
a good poem, slammed correctly- is like catching the holy ghost.

i REALLY like your poem, Mia.
I searched thru my stuff to find something similar that you might like...

(To HA: i AM NOT looking for criticism.
i am not a performing or published poet. and im not looking to be)

(About a Man)
I don't write poems about boys and men.
Despite attraction- internally, I resent them.
Beneath it all, I know what they intend
A guaranteed freak, a secret Tgirlfriend.
They're the same boys I went to school with
Before I came to be who I am today.
That intimidated and alienated me.
But that's another poem entirely, ok?
They're just grown up versions
Who have taken a liking to my bodily changes.
So I'm conflicted about the ghetto messes
After sexual exchanges.
Therefore, how dare I taint my artistry?
Which has carried me, miraculously
Through turbulence- consistently…
With those who have no regard for me?

But this recognizes something special.
He's no ghetto mess. Trust me.
Embodying virtues of rarity,
He has inspired me to contemplate on him- poetically.
I'm not a lesser version of myself when I'm with him
He prefers me- wholly. And reciprocates honesty.
I'm prompted to be a better me. Knowing I have someone looking at me expectantly.
He sees my greatness. And encourages excellence- though perhaps unknowingly.
To my genuine surprise, he kisses me with open eyes.
Peering into my consciousness, where my laws of physics are defied.
He makes love to me past my being
I close my eyes and I exhale
And experience a bliss, unparallel.
He captivates me with his very ideology.
I often am shocked how similarly we perceive things
Being that I regard myself philosophically eccentric,
How fitting it is that this is what the universe brings.
Star-crossed lovers.
Shakespeare never did resonate like this.
I found his pictures of romance overstated
But perchance!… they exist.
It's better than storybooks though.
Fantasy doesn't cloud what's real.
He's my man. And what a man he is
For inciting what I've come to feel.


You are one hell of a writer . . . I mean I wrote that poem when I was 18 years old and was still a virgin with no experience but with much desire, and if I were to write how I felt reflecting on that poem currently in my life It would have never been said better than how you described it.

BRAVO

[Alyssa87]

a fellow poet.
very nice.

have u checked out Brave New Voices on HBO?

my new favorite show.

I actually havnt seen that show but I did see the previews and the speakers seem to be very powerfull in expressing their writing vocally

its inspiring really.
a good poem, slammed correctly- is like catching the holy ghost.

i REALLY like your poem, Mia.
I searched thru my stuff to find something similar that you might like...

(To HA: i AM NOT looking for criticism.
i am not a performing or published poet. and im not looking to be)

(About a Man)
I don't write poems about boys and men.
Despite attraction- internally, I resent them.
Beneath it all, I know what they intend
A guaranteed freak, a secret Tgirlfriend.
They're the same boys I went to school with
Before I came to be who I am today.
That intimidated and alienated me.
But that's another poem entirely, ok?
They're just grown up versions
Who have taken a liking to my bodily changes.
So I'm conflicted about the ghetto messes
After sexual exchanges.
Therefore, how dare I taint my artistry?
Which has carried me, miraculously
Through turbulence- consistently…
With those who have no regard for me?

But this recognizes something special.
He's no ghetto mess. Trust me.
Embodying virtues of rarity,
He has inspired me to contemplate on him- poetically.
I'm not a lesser version of myself when I'm with him
He prefers me- wholly. And reciprocates honesty.
I'm prompted to be a better me. Knowing I have someone looking at me expectantly.
He sees my greatness. And encourages excellence- though perhaps unknowingly.
To my genuine surprise, he kisses me with open eyes.
Peering into my consciousness, where my laws of physics are defied.
He makes love to me past my being
I close my eyes and I exhale
And experience a bliss, unparallel.
He captivates me with his very ideology.
I often am shocked how similarly we perceive things
Being that I regard myself philosophically eccentric,
How fitting it is that this is what the universe brings.
Star-crossed lovers.
Shakespeare never did resonate like this.
I found his pictures of romance overstated
But perchance!… they exist.
It's better than storybooks though.
Fantasy doesn't cloud what's real.
He's my man. And what a man he is
For inciting what I've come to feel.

Thank sincerely Mia, for sharing your poetic thoughts, in verse. Alyssa87 you are a true poet. I remember being inpressed with something that you post a while back in the stories section. However, I am posting a poem which could be considered an anwer to your excellent poem.

Him Instead of Me

Its such a pleasure to see a beautiful woman in love
The look in your eyes sends my heart to the skies up above
A more lucky man, there just can’t be
I just wish that instead of him, it was me.

Such a beauty you are, but I see your heart on your sleeve.
You could get any man to ask for your hand, I believe.
Now our chances with you are slim.
Because the warmth of your affection; it shines on him.

Well I don’t mean to pry, but I can’t help that you catch my eye.
Love gives you a look that just doesn’t lie.
It’s just so amazing to see a soul fly.

But I wonder how long a show like this will run.
Because I wonder for him, if you’re really number one.
But whatever your number may be, he’s got your number; that I can see
I just wish that instead of him it was me.

was that off the top of your head?
or was it written previously, and you just posted it like i did?






You are one hell of a writer . . . I mean I wrote that poem when I was 18 years old and was still a virgin with no experience but with much desire, and if I were to write how I felt reflecting on that poem currently in my life It would have never been said better than how you described it.

BRAVO


wow thanks.
i'm glad you liked it missy http://l.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/i/mesg/emoticons7/6.gif

[MiaIsabella1985]

It's a very sad poem. I find the process of writing poetry can help deal with stressful situations, can be very revealing and is much more important than the result.

Thanks for sharing.

Well the poem wasnt really meant to be sad really, it was more a reflection of me being young and desiring to be intimate with a man you could stimulate me in all the ways I wanted but also kinding telling myself that if I did indeed get what I wanted would it really be what I would have imagined it to be and leave me disappointed.

I was just a young virgin

[BLKGSXR]

My needle

The way it happened at first
we took at turn for the worst-
it wasn't expected.

She tried to fight me again,
so I'm letting her win-
I'm not defending my actions.

I'm heading down to the market,
and I'm just going to park it
-until they open,

because its just after four and some idiot whore
has ruined my night.

So, I had to walk walk-walk-
16 blocks,
just to get some comfort,

and now a cop's pulling-up,
I'm about to get fucked;
-I just wanted some comfort.

-
Needle in the hay..
I'm the needle in hay wherever I go.

Needle in the hay
Needle in the hay
I'm the needle in hay wherever I go

and I'm not defending my actions,
you ought to leave me alone,
because I'm not defending my actions.


I'm just the needle in hay,
a simple needle in hay
so you ought to be careful...

or you are the needle in hay-
You are the needle in hay
like a pin lying in wait, like a pile of too many problems.
-

You laughed at his jokes
touching his clothes
while everyone's laughing.

I can't be myself
around everyone else
when I'm watching this happen,

I just need some time
to be alone,
so I hope that nobody wants me.

...
...


Back at home
and I'm almost alone;
if she'd stay out of my way.

I can't talk right now
there's no talking this out
I'm simply sick of your actions

You're the needle in hay,
a needle in hay,
a bitch with too many problems.
-


Then some days passed by;
a new phase comes by-

She wants out of my life.


I'm not okay;
I'm not okay.
Now I need you out of my life.

I said, "I'm not okay;
no, I'm not okay.
Now you are relieved from my life."

You can leave me alone,
just leave me alone,
I'm not defending my actions.

You can leave me alone;
you can leave me alone;
because there's no defending your actions.


-
You are a needle in hay
a needle in a hay
and I'm not sifting through problems.

Needless to say-
a needle in hay,
is the least of my problems.

I said that needless to say,
sadly, my needle in hay,
might just be the least of my problems...

Pulled from the depths of my old writings....

[Alyssa87]

My needle

...


http://l.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/i/mesg/emoticons7/41.gif

on behalf of all the needles out there, i understand.

[BLKGSXR]

Double time:
Invisible


The city has two faces,
it has too many phases,
I found myself flipping through pages
from days of my life,
all alone, at a desk by a light.

People keep swarmin by him
no one looks back for a quick glimpse,
looks like they're ignoring some simp
who is standing in the street,
it's not surprising me.

During the daytime,
-or maybe during another lifetime,
He'd send his mother a lifeline saying, "Hey, mother I'm fine,
but the people on the street, it seems like they can't see me."

I think that I might just be-(invisible)
-

The city has two faces
shit, it has so many phases
I found myself ripping through pages
of days of my life
I detest the tests of life.

So I closed my heartbreak,
and I even turned the page on heartache
stopped looking through keepsakes
for something inbetween, for something I just can't see.

That's because it's not right-there anymore
it's become invisible.
That's because there is nothing there, like before

so I am ( __________ )

[Alyssa87]

^^
"all alone, at a desk by a light."

i really love that line.

i like poetry like this.
quiet angst. well done.

[MiaIsabella1985]

I am just so impressed with everyones writing and thoughts being shared. Every style is unique and every idea it seems is a longing for something each person desires - and as Alyssa stated - quiet angst.

Please keep sharing everyone

[JustMeHere]

I'm loving this thread. Keep 'em coming.

Here's my contribution:
(I actually scribbled it down last night at work. Keep in mind, I'm no poet. I don't know what I'd do if I were to ever try and just write a poem, I think I'd hate it. But I do play piano and love to write lyrics .. I know, I know, 6-in-1 ..., I just understand the process better as lyrics, then I don't worry about making it so pertinent or comprehensive.)

-Sweet Simplicity-

We count our close calls
When we're counting our days.
Hit or miss, up or down,
We're the same anyway.

And the stars poke, one by one,
Through the darkening blue
As we talk of shaking off the moss
That's grown on me and you.


Yesterday was something,
But it's only a dream.
It's a sin that we're in
The rushing of the stream.

So pass another beer
and take in the day's end.
Let's pretend that, once again,
Sweet Simplicity's our friend.

Sweet Simplicity, the taste deceives my tongue
Like the smell of new-grown lilacs sitting in the sun.
I feel you, and I need you, and I hate you just the same.
Sweet Simplicity,
I guess it's all said in your name.


I could see us right now
as we sit here on your stairs.
Laughing out loud; talking about
this feeling hanging in the air.

Like the numbers of the stars tonight
I guess we're growing too.
And, like them, I think we can
Shine a light on through.

Sweet Simplicity, the taste deceives my tongue
Like the smell of new-grown lilacs sitting in the sun.
I feel you, and I need you, and I hate you just the same.
Sweet Simplicity,
I guess it's all said in your name.

Sweet Simplicity, you're written on my soul
I could hold you in my arms and know you cannot make me whole.
You're a comfort, and a poison, and you're keeping me the same.
Sweet Simplicity,
I guess it's all said in your name.

[Alyssa87]

^^^That supposed sweet simplicity. Aint it a bitch?
i really like this.

it reminds me a bit of this piece..
(in that i reject 'simplicity' as it were)

2 Much 4 Myself
Possibly defected-
My subconscious has been detected.
Tapping into the truth- coated in good intentions
Lead to liberation and more love than I could mention.
But innate wishes for ignorance seem to sometimes arise.
To perhaps solely see color in my eyes.
And not the clear view through my shattered window
Leading to the depths of the previously unknown
Where reality sets in and festers.
Every single shortcoming shown.

The true grasp on wisdom I often allude to,
The self-mastery I often boast,
Is good for poetry and conversation
But often unhealthily keep my mind engrossed.
The peace of mind I continue to wish for
After many years of prayer
Is more complicated than anticipated.
To which I was totally unaware.
The blessing-slash-curses we often hear about
Um yea. Hi. That's me!
That's my scenario. My state of consciousness
The centered/conflicted soul I've come to be.

But I've been let in on a virtue worth sharing.
'Were frightened not by our darkness, but our light'.
Perhaps this seemingly burdensome compulsion
Will prove essential to a global shift i'll incite!
This conscious mind of mine will undoubtedly aid me.
My peace- unshakable, still and serene.
I am indeed powerful beyond measure.
But not without trials by any means.

[JustMeHere]

^^^ Nice! I wish I could express myself like that, you grabbed a lot of my thoughts in that one.

[Alyssa87]

^^^ Nice! I wish I could express myself like that, you grabbed a lot of my thoughts in that one.

strangely enough, i thought i might ;)

Thanks mister. I'm glad i picked a good one for you : )

[T-girl hound]

its some terrific writing here

[transmaven]

Philip Larkin - This Be The Verse

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

[JustMeHere]

This one's kinda on the same page:

-The Floodgates-

Oh, the way they look
will always get me.
I'm such a young thing but I know the game.
Such empty glances,
with empty grins.
There are times I wonder if the molds don't change.

Pursed my lips always seem to be,
To keep the thoughts behind my eyes.
Seems to me that there's no good could come
If the floodgates open and I let the waters rise.

Bite my tongue, bite my tongue, bite my tongue and wear a smile.

So it goes,
as I feign interest
Same old song and dance and way of life.
Hold garments, and Holy sit-coms
bring a sacrifice of "la-de-da" each night.

Spoon-fed culture almost makes me laugh
Telling me they know my mind.
Semms to me there's no good could ever come
If the floodgates open and I let the waters rise.

Bite my tongue, bite my tongue, bite my tongue and wear a smile.

[Kirsty Scott TG]

A love Song : Words of Devotion

Your family and friends and fudd have all gone really stale,
The ship I sailed into your harbour has turned and is setting sail,
The suburban hell we're living in is a right old f****ng farce,
Cutting grass and washing cars you can stuff right up your arse.

Home sweet home my fanny, It's become a no fun zone,
I hate going to work each morning, but it's better than coming home,
I see you in your leggings and I'd rather kiss the dog,
At least her teeth stay in her mouth when giving her a snog.

I love you still You're in my will
and that is where you'll stay
We'll always have that special bond
Until My dying day

It's safe to say that over time we've slowly grown apart,
You've become a virgin and I've become a tart,
The problem is you've gone off men, and I have started sucking cocks,
and I look so much better than you when I wear your frocks.

It's safe to say you've turned me gay, and I'm off muff for good,
Not that I could ever part your legs, It's like your lips are glued,
Your Fanny looks like ZZ Top, and smells like mouldy plaice,
When we first tried anal sex you farted in my face.

I love you still you're in my will
and that is where you'll stay
We'll always share that special bond
Until my dying day

You tuck your breasts into your socks & Your bras are parachutes,
I knew you died your armpit hairs but now I can see the roots,
The thing that changed it for me was when I got my specs,
It goes to show that marraige should come with safety checks,

When I'm eating pizza It reminds me of your face,
Covered in all sorts of Sh*t with a fat and lumpy base,
The corns and bunions on your feet add three inches to your height,
The nightmares I've been having start when you turn on the lights.

I love you still you're in my will
and that is where you'll stay
We'll always share that special bond
Until my dying day

Your face is like a work of art, by Pablo Picasso,
When you wash your face at night it's with a wire brush and brasso,
I could have stayed in love with you if I went deaf and blind,
I was drunk when I first kissed you and then I lost my mind.

You have the body of Big Daddy, and the face of Worzel Gummidge,
I found all sorts of vermin in your minge the last time I had a rummage,
With what you've got living in your muff you could open up a zoo,
Scientists and Botanists could have a field day just with you.

But I love you still your in my will
and that is where you'll stay
We'll always share that special bond
Until my dying day

So raise your glass and make a toast
& drink to you my wife
Cause it's time I downed this arsenic
and ended this bliddy life ......
--------------------------------------------------------------

Kirsty
xxx xxx

[Alyssa87]

This one's kinda on the same page:

-The Floodgates-

Oh, the way they look
will always get me.
I'm such a young thing but I know the game.
Such empty glances,
with empty grins.
There are times I wonder if the molds don't change.

Pursed my lips always seem to be,
To keep the thoughts behind my eyes.
Seems to me that there's no good could come
If the floodgates open and I let the waters rise.

Bite my tongue, bite my tongue, bite my tongue and wear a smile.

So it goes,
as I feign interest
Same old song and dance and way of life.
Hold garments, and Holy sit-coms
bring a sacrifice of "la-de-da" each night.

Spoon-fed culture almost makes me laugh
Telling me they know my mind.
Semms to me there's no good could ever come
If the floodgates open and I let the waters rise.

Bite my tongue, bite my tongue, bite my tongue and wear a smile.

i like the way you think.

...because clearly i see a connection.
i have something ELSE that came to mind as i read this piece.

This is a prose piece though. I tend not to like them as much.
But when i'm having a breakdown- feeling less clever, and more desperate,
its easier NOT to rhyme. Hope you like it too



The Disassociative Property
God help you when that feeling creeps back up into your consciousness.
That overwhelming sensation that paralyses all reason.
The seed wrapped in hellfire that hurls itself into the pit of your stomach.
That robs you of your solace and your saliva.
With your jaw clenched and muscles tightened,
All you want to do is disintegrate inside yourself.
And disassociate yourself- from yourself

… as you have successfully done from everyone you know.

The idea that you're alone is perpetuated.
Suddenly you realize that no other soul you know- knows yours.
That all this time you've kept what characterizes you in your own mind from everyone.
And although you'd like to kick yourself in the ass for it, you don't.
Because you quickly tell yourself that there is no way in hell that they would or could
comprehend the complexity that is your psyche.
So as you have done for years, you retreat.
Pacifying yourself with the delusion that this is somehow character-building.
And finding false confidence in your variance and indifference.
You're quietly begging for embrace and validation.
But the moment it's offered, you snap.
Spewing sarcasm and distain at the happiness in your face.

Wouldn't it be perfect if you could steal contentment?
If you could swap dispositions with someone too stupid to process all this
superfluous sentience?

But if you genuinely love yourself, as I know you do,
You quickly disqualify those cries for simplicity.
You know that if you didn't live in that racing mind of yours,
if your whole life wasn't a conversation saying what you cant utter out loud,
asking the only important questions, and being the sole answerer of them…
Well, you would in no way be you.
These moments just come with the territory.
Perhaps they're not-so-subtle nudges from the part of you that wants to
remain uninfluenced.
When the pressures of your outside world encroach too closely.
When you've stepped too far away from yourself- Towards the herded masses,
lining up to drink the kool-aid.

[yodajazz]

...
was that off the top of your head?
or was it written previously, and you just posted it like i did?

...
http://l.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/i/mesg/emoticons7/6.gif

It was written long ago, but I just opened my folder and it was right there, just like a seed which has sprouted and is growing towards light.

[JustMeHere]

If you could swap dispositions with someone too stupid to process all this
superfluous sentience?

But if you genuinely love yourself, as I know you do,
You quickly disqualify those cries for simplicity.
You know that if you didn't live in that racing mind of yours,
if your whole life wasn't a conversation saying what you cant utter out loud,
asking the only important questions, and being the sole answerer of them…
Well, you would in no way be you.
These moments just come with the territory.
Perhaps they're not-so-subtle nudges from the part of you that wants to
remain uninfluenced.
When the pressures of your outside world encroach too closely.
When you've stepped too far away from yourself- Towards the herded masses,
lining up to drink the kool-aid.[/color]

Wow! I love this last part! This one's my favorite so far. Your brain is quite unique ... and I do see the connection as well. Let me see what others I can dig up that aren't too cheesy.

[JustMeHere]

-So I've Found- (I never really finished this one, but I'm starting to like it as a short one)

Taking crystals to scatter in the clouds.
Make the storm of one's own choosing to come down.
And when the rain pours we all struggle not to drown.

It's all around.
So I've found.

Left bare-handed to fight the hurricaines.
Of course it's futile, but we still try anyway.
May be the only way to kep from going sane.

In the rain.
We're going sane.

Deep inside,
There's a voice that calls in all our lives.
But only some will pick the hopeless fights.
I guess it takes a certain kind of mind.

[The Unit]

HUNGANGELS

Here there are no HungAngels of despair.
Arrayed in threads, they speak only of joy.
Performing for the sheer delight of being,
Poised between the act of sight and seeing,
So unigue, yet of this earth, they toy
Scholastically with being here nor there,
Party hosts, though none the worse for wear.
Come down from that hiding place, anguish fleeing,
On those they light who for another care,
Now filling with their ecstasy the air,
Dear hints of bliss no evil can destroy.

[a994]

All brilliant works, especially yours Alyssa87. Thought-provoking on an emotional level, and yet even more so in realms of human experience beyond emotion.

And Kristy Scott, :lol:

[transmaven]

The Snow Man

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.


Wallace Stevens

[Alyssa87]

...
was that off the top of your head?
or was it written previously, and you just posted it like i did?

...
http://l.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/i/mesg/emoticons7/6.gif

It was written long ago, but I just opened my folder and it was right there, just like a seed which has sprouted and is growing towards light.

JUST like it! :wink:


-So I've Found- (I never really finished this one, but I'm starting to like it as a short one)

Taking crystals to scatter in the clouds.
Make the storm of one's own choosing to come down.
And when the rain pours we all struggle not to drown.

It's all around.
So I've found.

Left bare-handed to fight the hurricaines.
Of course it's futile, but we still try anyway.
May be the only way to kep from going sane.

In the rain.
We're going sane.

Deep inside,
There's a voice that calls in all our lives.
But only some will pick the hopeless fights.
I guess it takes a certain kind of mind.

i wanna dig in your head on this one.
yahoo?

[LuciaMiel]

An so now im platinum
Prescious
Pleasingly petite
Pretty pretty princess
Skin says
Come closer cause she coaxes you casually
commands you
Causes casualties
Calamaties
Missionaries mercenaries
Malevolent an heavenly i pleasantly
Plead don’t leave with speed for speed
Cause I need to feel, bleed, and read my future in tea leaves
Sutures and knee highs
Thighs shy from fried food and guys’ eyes
Lies. Lickin languidly an lollygaggin
Lazily
Lacsidasically
Magical sprite, Rainbow Brite,
vixxen, nixie, trixie dryad, nyads and nymphs
Oh? Actin like maniacs in backlesses, back that ass up in those slacks
Crackers crackin slack jawed and slappin laughin an splashinwater on me
It’s pure an it’s sweet an this is death valley.

[MiaIsabella1985]

You are all so talented Im so glad you all are sharing and enjoying each others work.

I will share another shortly

[BLKGSXR]

-an understanding-



Have you ever considered the possibility that luck (as you know it), whether it be good or bad, is not actually ‘luck’ at all? I’m sure that maybe you too have come to the conclusion that concerning the generation of “luck,” it is most-likely the result of people’s particular behavioral characteristics in combination with their ability to act on opportunity; it is not the result of blind-fortune, however, which has neither substantial reason nor rhyme.


If you haven’t formed this conclusion on your own by now-- if you were to consider the reality of how you behave when responding to life and life-situations with specific regard to how they effect not-only your immediate and long-term fortune, but also with regard to how they affect your overall luck as well --then you’ll probably conclude, as I have, that “luck” is nothing more than a nonverbal agreement that you’ve made with the 'reality' that you’ve (intentionally or unintentionally) placed yourself in and allowed yourself to live in. This is because luck is a direct result of only opportunity and preparation approximately 85% of the time. So essentially, luck will channel itself into any particular individual who desires to achieve it, by incident or purpose, in respect to their initial planning for it.

Here is a metaphor to help you conceptualize this.

If you have never considered the implications of what harboring a dreadful perspective during the commission of your life will do or if you’ve never considered the connection that harboring one has with chance, then simply put; if the Earth was an actual gallery of art and every single human inhabitant of it was a painting hanging on the walls of that gallery; the reason that you are probably miserable or unlucky in your portrait is probably because you’ve named your frame (or your life), “Woe is me” or “Joe Shmoe the Consistently Unlucky” or something similar to that, and as the author of your own life you’ve painted that specific picture accordingly, because that is your mentality in its untamed, untrained and ill focused state- subconsciously and otherwise. Likewise, every time that a person is even to consider them-self as being “unlucky” they are further strengthening their unlucky attributes by simply reinforcing the livelihood of unluckiness. Unfortunately, most people maintain an all-too-common mentality of ‘my-life-won’t-stop-messing-up’ and believe that their lives are usually at fault (in their minds) for the potential problems of the world; this mentality usually never changes throughout the course of their respective lives, and like the fact that their unhappy life seems incorrigble, their opinion of life won't grow either and is also likely to continue to deteriorate until the majority of those unfortunate people grow into nothing more than older versions of their former unhappy selves.

In essence, those particular unhappy people usually just continue to grow deeper into an unhappy existence; an existence reminiscent of being stuck in a black hole. Unfortunately, this hole is also is likely to frequently happen in the lives of mentally unhappy people. This is because any luck in their perspective is not glorified and all bad luck in their perspective is exaggerated leading to the feeling that they have consistently bad luck- in that case it's all in perspective. Also, no lucky chances ever really present themselves to people who block their ability to view them. So people who don't see the opportunities in life simply pass them up when they are available and then continue to complain about the lack of them, while the lucky person optimistically finds opportunity as he knows it is always apparent in circumstance.

Often, the not-favorable opinions that unhappy people hold with regard to themselves leads directly to unfavorable opinions that other people are inclined to develop of those people as well. Similar to an “if-you-act-scared-you-are-going-to-look-scared" (and be treated as if you were scared) understanding of life; if you really think your life is disheartening or unlucky, then whichever portrait (or person) in the gallery decides to look upon you will also be able to easily read a caption beneath your frame and see dark, foreboding clouds in your atmosphere saying, “woe is me.” Likewise, the opposite is true just as easily as changing your opinion. (The proof is in me.)

On the other hand, across the hall in my painting of myself and the world; my picture is entitled “Lucky” and it is so because of the way that my mind analyzes and interprets information about life in a positive manner. So, respectively, this is reflected in my authorship of my portrait (my life). So while I’m painting my perspective of life, I attempt to make my reality gleam with positivity. It works tremendously well too. Well, except for the fact that whenever I leave my home, the negativity of almost everyone around me is so devastatingly similar to a black hole it's miraculously horrible. Their negative gravity yearns so hard for me--trying so hard to remove me from my happy place --that I feel drained as if the positivity is literally almost being sucked out of me.

Now, granted, I’ve been told that I’m stronger than most people, by most people, and though I don’t believe that necessarily to be true, unfortunately, it determines the way that many people behave. Briefly, I believe that we’re all human and that we’re all capable of the same feats; if I wanted to be a track-star, I would be a track-star. Only a better track star can stop me. Most people, however, do not share this belief with me. Those people suffer from an affliction of their reality; this time it happens to be a negatively-perceived or ill-perceived lifestyle, butt reality disorders can take the form of many different barriers though, whether that is depression, lack of confidence, fear, anxiety, addiction or many other barely observable bad frames-of-mind; there is no doubt that the resulting clouded mind is a hindrance to success. Consider reality disorders success inhibitors.

This is why you need to make yourself stop suffering from these hindrances- these reality disorders as they weaken not only your success, but also they weaken the potential success of the people surrounding you.

With regard to that positivity-draining black hole, however; consequently, due to most people’s perspective of life, they are absolutely susceptible to the pull of its gravity. This is especially the case because people literally allow themselves to be stripped of their positivity most of the time. This is because, more than likely, they put themselves into a frame of mind where they are consistently unable to combat the tug of gravity; so instead they block it out by letting it invade their realities in what I think of as a defense-mechanism against the pull itself. Perhaps the defense mechanism could be characterized by getting angry at irrational times, like when it comes to minor inconveniences such as waiting for gas or almost anything else that could potentially “stress you out.” This happens more than consistently in immediate life and in potential life, and could also be rooted, simply, easily, in work-related stress or school-related stress or could be derived from other similar activities.

For me, the solution came when I realized that although I seriously consider myself to be one of the luckier people on earth; I realized that my perceived luck had little to do with ‘luck’ as you know it and more to do with myself than I originally believed. I realized that the concept of being in the right place at the right time was simply a simple solution to a far more complex problem pertaining to luck. I learned by delving deeper into luck that we are likely to discover that being-in-the-right-place-at-the-right-time means being prepared to first see an available opportunity when it is presented, and also being prepared to act on it in a timely fashion. Being prepared to act on an available opportunity to obtain fortune can take almost any shape imaginable or can be as simple as maintaining a dollar to purchase a lottery ticket. With relation to that, it can be more complex like what is quoted from Louis Pasteur when he said, “Chance favors only the prepared mind.”

Are you inclined to disagree?

By disregarding the aforementioned gallery of picture-frames depicting reality-disorders, another metaphor for unavailable luck (or bad luck) can be depicted by observing a writer with regard to his craft. When a writer selects a writing utensil and sits down with the intentions of writing, he opens the gateway to a world where thousands upon thousands of beautiful and obscure muses are flying around. Eventually, a muse shoots into the writer, who then becomes the faucet-- by transference onto paper --of the muse world. If the writer never sits down to write, however, (or is without his utensil thusly unprepared); that is to say, if the writer never allows his mind to enter the muse world, is he then to be considered “unlucky” for not being inspired to write?

Or is he unlucky because of some negative-thinking that never allowed him to perceived his opportunity to write; is he unlucky because he was unprepared to take action on an available opportunity, perhaps because he lacked materials? The typical negative thinker would cease thoughts about luck at 'I’m unlucky for being uninspired' which needless to say, is wholly incorrect. That writer is unlucky because his mindset allows (or harbors) or chooses for him to be unlucky; not because he was simply uninspired.


Once more, someone who watches television all day is unlikely to receive any luck which is not promoted on the television. Likewise people who don’t go out and give themselves opportunities to be lucky are also unlikely to experience the benefits of good fortune. Either people are not in the right place at the right time to receive luck or if they do manage to find some, it is merely out ‘luck’. Generally, consistently misfortunate people also “coincidentally” happen to be unprepared at moments of opportunity and are unfortunately, subsequently ‘unlucky’ and thusly unable to accept any said opportunity. Moreover, on the minimal occasions that the unlucky-behaving person does happen to be prepared to receive an available opportunity at the same time that he is in the right place for it to happen, at this point it is simply a matter of probability and ‘luck’ as most people generally perceive it to be.

The union of opportunity and preparation form an ideal breeding ground for good luck to thrive. This is because it’s not simply the probability of walking into a room and being well-liked by most-everybody inside that is important, no; it’s the fact that by walking into that room you were prepared to receive any and most-all available opportunities located inside. Also, you didn’t let a reality ailment such as fear or social anxiety disorder prevent you from going out or from entering the room or from learning how to interact with people- which oftentimes additionally prevents many chances for good luck to inject itself into people’s lives. This is due to the fact that chance behaves in patterns; it does not often enter the lives of people who consistently put themselves down as if they had no 'fight' or if 'staying down' is a tactic that they employ. Chance does not bestow good onto the consistently morose- I’m sorry, it just doesn’t happen like that. Chance favors the positive and strong-willed, which also, as luck would have, is what official businesspeople are looking for in working relationships as there is a correlation.

Unfortunately, people who try to live under the suggested belief-system about positivity can fail if they do not force themselves to make it work. People in the process of a reality-fix have to be strong and in-control and cannot accept ‘no’ for an answer. They must obtain inner-strength to demand the satisfaction from their body and mind that basic human evolution entitles them to- you have make it happen for it to happen. On instances where a member of the Unfortunate Clan does attempt to better themselves, they are likely to enter the world pretending to be positive for a week, get shot down and then wallow in misery; which is absolutely disgusting. You have to live the positive lifestyle to achieve the results. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, the positive person will wake-up everyday and know that their great opportunity will come one day and understand that small-opportunities will come daily and accept that they must not be clouded by irrational angers and fears or thoughts so they can observe opportunity and positively react to them.

Life is like a saying about sex. “Everybody thinks they’re great at it, but most people really don’t know what they’re doing.” When you make something up because you don’t know what you’re doing and nobody tells you that you are making a mistake, you are likely never to correct it. It is at that point that you are doomed to be unfortunate forever or at least until growth is incurred, and when you feel this way about life as it pertains to you, then sadly you just devolved from being “pulled” and swayed by the gravity of the chance-stealing black holes, to actually becoming the disgusting embodiment of it in actuality. Few doors open for the unprepared and when they do, those people are just the lucky ones.

So in order to apply the fix, you simply have to understand exactly what the power of reality actually is. If hips are the power-center for your body, then reality is the focus-center for your mind. The power to author your own life and feelings like described in our art gallery (Earth) is a great power; it’s a great responsibility to use that power effectively too. If you don’t respect and use the power efficiently, then you are likely to let it go undisciplined; to let it grow wild; and to let it inflict you with unfortunate varying levels of reality disorders and terrible misfortune.

Succinctly, I don’t have “trust-fund-baby” kind of luck, buy let’s be honest, I’m a lucky person. I’m lucky because I know my luck is rooted partly in my ever-growing insight which prepares me for available opportunity, and partly because I’m actively aware of available opportunities. My insight, like with many lucky people, allows me to utilize my decision-making skills effectively, conscientiously, persistently and with focus, which also happen to be essential behaviorisms in perceived human success which, by chance, is lucky for me.

“Chance”

[MiaIsabella1985]

"The Sweetest Kiss"

At first sight I can feel your passion throb for me

By the way you lick your lips I can see that you've dreamed of me

Oh how the possibilities seem so endless at this moment, as a wave of immeasurable heat rips through you like a torrent

In your eyes I can sense your imagination tasting, touching, and absorbing every inch of my presence

Licking up the sweet honey color of my skin, swimming in the luminous blues of my eyes, while smelling the sweet perfume of my strawberry hair

all the while as you stare my body begins to quiver with the touch of your hand

and without your body's strength my frame can barely stand

As your honey armaretto lips bring to mine their very bliss, I endulge in the orgasm of the sweetest kiss.


Mia Isabella 7-14-04

[PSL4u]

This thread fails .....

Mia you looked better before you had all this surgery done. I remember seeing you in a video with some casper the ghost looking mofo. You were very hot, now when I see your vids on TS Sedcution, you just look like all the others that have had way too much surgery.

But you do seem like a cool person though.

[BLKGSXR]

This thread fails .....

Mia you looked better before you had all this surgery done. I remember seeing you in a video with some casper the ghost looking mofo. You were very hot, now when I see your vids on TS Sedcution, you just look like all the others that have had way too much surgery.

But you do seem like a cool person though. :trolls gtfo!

[yodajazz]

"The Sweetest Kiss"

At first sight I can feel your passion throb for me

By the way you lick your lips I can see that you've dreamed of me

Oh how the possibilities seem so endless at this moment, as a wave of immeasurable heat rips through you like a torrent

In your eyes I can sense your imagination tasting, touching, and absorbing every inch of my presence

Licking up the sweet honey color of my skin, swimming in the luminous blues of my eyes, while smelling the sweet perfume of my strawberry hair

all the while as you stare my body begins to quiver with the touch of your hand

and without your body's strength my frame can barely stand

As your honey armaretto lips bring to mine their very bliss, I endulge in the orgasm of the sweetest kiss.


Mia Isabella 7-14-04

I really like your poem. However, it makes me want more. That's not a bad thing. True passion is the basis for most good art. And you look better than ever.

[BLKGSXR]

Thread needs a bump imo-

[jaycanuck]

Some nice stuff here. I only had time for a couple..but I'll check the others out for sure. And well...seeing this beautiful OP.

http://www.hungangels.com/board/files/eros_2_161.jpg

[Alyssa87]

she is a badassbitch!!

damn. so fucking pretty.

i have some new stuff.

brb.

[Alyssa87]

oooh.. i get the feeling the ladies will feel this one.

YeSeX

Yes!
You guessed.
I would settle for less.
And was in disarray- and in distress.

That I wouldn't transgress
And ask to blaze your ses.
Or use your bed as a means to rest.
And saw success
As you undressed
And eatin it and beatin it cuz it's the best.

But I could never request
More than just this sex.
For your manhood would be taken out of context.
Your mama, best friend & ex
Would suddenly see you as less.
So, I don't call. Wait for you to call. And I wont text!

Because of this deep rooted complex
Just past your ribcage- pumping in your chest.
That tells you it would be best
To avoid public interest
Of where your time is spent outside the projects.

"Can I come thru?" You request
" -Yes."

...So you come through well dressed
To impress
Muscles flexed
Confident im such a mess
That my reflex
It preset
To just let …(you fuck).

But I guess
I made the mess.
The sex IS the best
I must confess
Besides -I spend my days working- Stressed!
And studying for tests.
So I stay putting to rest
These secret requests
Poppin off in my chest
That maybe it can be more than this.
I'm too busy for that L-O-V-E word mess.

…Or that's what I tell myself when I'm feelin perplexed.
Hit it, hit the spot. The spot marked X
So yes
As per your request
Come thru. We'll go through the motions…Emotionless.

[rockabilly]

sick flow Aly.

[ALLOSHn70]

I know you told me not to ask where you have been
I know you told me not to try
To understand the way you live your life at night
But don't you see you make me cry

So now I have left you I know it broke your heart
But I prefer to be alone
I hope you feel the pain I've always felt with you
I know I'll make it on my own

[Alyssa87]

sick flow Aly.


thanks mister

[transmaven]

nice, nice virtuoso antics Alyssa

getting better and better

:)

[transmaven]

Symposium

You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it hold
its nose to the grindstone and hunt with the hounds.
Every dog has a stitch in time. Two heads? You've been
sold
one good turn. One good turn deserves a bird in the hand.

A bird in the hand is better than no bread.
To have your cake is to pay Paul.
Make hay while you can still hit the nail on the head.
For want of a nail the sky might fall.

People in glass houses can't see the wood
for the new broom. Rome wasn't built between two stools.
Empty vessels wait for no man.

A hair of the dog is a friend indeed.
There's no fool like the fool
who's shot his bolt. There's no smoke after the horse is
gone.


Paul Muldoon

[ConceitedNobody]

Back Against The Wall, Bodies Intwined And All
Feeling You Close To Me, Your Wetter Than Niagra Falls,
Its Gotta Some Something Deeper Than Just Physical Sex. Its A Mental Stimulation, Like Perfections At Its Best,
No Mind For Repetition, Our Love Limited Edition, Relationship Taken From Shallow To Spiritual Condition. Been Searching For A Female Like You Now I Feel My Heart Is No Longer Missing..
FINALLY A MAN Feeling Whole By The Love Of Another,
Lady In Public, OUR Little Secret, You're A Freak Undercover..
Deeper Than A School Girl Crush, I Feel You React To My Tongues Every Trembling Touch..
As I Look Into Your Eyes I Can Finally Tell, Tears Run Down Your Pretty Face, This Is The Story Of A Man Who Can Finally EXHALE ..!! -

This Was Written By Me, A Couple Of Weeks Ago...

[Alyssa87]

nice, nice virtuoso antics Alyssa

getting better and better

:)


thats actually really old.

i THOUGHT i'd post one of my new pieces, but it's not HA friendly.

[Helvis2012]

Nice. Are you published?

[MiaIsabella1985]

I really love it that so many of you are sharing your thoughts and art! Its great that you all keep this thread going.

xoxoxox Mia Isabella

[JohnnyWalkerBlackLabel]

enjoy (or don't)

[transmaven]

i THOUGHT i'd post one of my new pieces, but it's not HA friendly.


What? please... :o

Post whatever you like Alyssa...

[Alyssa87]

Well i'm afraid its a bit cheesy and idealistic.
I hesitated to post this one because I dread to think of the types of responses
i could get from men on this site who think shemales are for sex only.
But the heart wants what it wants...

(Again i'm not looking to be pulished or to perform. So I do not require criticism.
These are personal writings that i have shared for the sake of this fantastic thread.
Thank you again Mia.)


Tormented Soul Mate

There’s an indistinct vision of him in my conscious mind.
He’s hurting. and frail on the inside.

He’s an artist in his own right because of his take on the world.
His thoughts are poetry. Propaganda unfurled.

He struggles with connecting as I do. But he makes his way about.
Not faulting friends and family for not quite figuring him out.

He resides in his mind. Contemplating- every… fucking… thing.
But it’s what he knows as normal, and not at all tiring.

I’m not sure of his life outside of this. But I know he remains unchanged.
He’s known only in small fractions. Most of him truly- is estranged.

When he comes across my pathway, and yes he certainly will.
He’ll be awestruck that I know him. His surroundings grow eerily still.

Somehow he’ll know I feel empathy, with one extended gaze.
Like he has never experienced in all his lonely days.

Through a process unbeknownst to me, he will tightly grab hold.
Finding comfort in my understanding, feeling totally consoled.

He’ll lean on me, and need my love, and will surely reciprocate.
No conditions or egos involved at all. I’ll really be his soul mate.

[transmaven]

That's a beautiful poem, Alyssa. It's a true love poem, subtle and generous. It's like one long loving breath.


His surroundings grow eerily still.


That was true for me reading it.

Thank you for posting it.

[Alyssa87]

you are very welcome.

im glad u liked it.



i'd like to read more people....

[IndyCloset]

Wow it's amazing how a thread like this can inspire me to go back and look through all the poems I've written through the years and even be amazed with myself like "Whoa when did I write this" LOL!

[Alyssa87]

youre good.
id like to read something newer

[SexChangeTranny.com]

HEARTS OF BEAUTY


The heart our great marvel
The might inside, its pure beauty
Though we hide from the world, I doubt it not, never

My trust, my faith is in hearts
For they are creations of a God somewhere
Its the relationship I need, religion is just not me

The beauty of a true heart
The good the bad and everything, why its so loving
For the vulnerable person underneath is worth so much love

Their weakness is part of who they are
Their strength is only a shard of beauty, part of the whole
Take every shard of the being to see the divine core, the beings we ignore even in ourselves

There is no need to hide from me
I hold no damnation in my heart, be yourself
The beauty is alive, its a whole that is unreplaceable

I give my heart with unlimited compassion and love
To take suffering of others onto me, its foolish yet this is me
I swim in the sea and won't drown any time soon for the hearts heal me in return

Its so tiring, it can take away my energy
There is nothing that will stop me though, No reason to quit
My gift from my heart is to give joy and understanding, for I won't play the part of an ass

Tell me when you look into the dark of others hearts, what do you say?
Do you say of how its too hard and you must run? Of its not worth it to love someone who has faults
Not every heart is pure but every heart deseveres to be loves the same no damnation from us to those who are alive

I look into the dark and call
" I love the one in question, there is no damnation.
I see the beauty beyond the faults, so what they are not perfect beings, nor am I so how can I banish them?"

The heart is a marvel, its beautiful
We all have purity and love, we just forget it as we go on
And the only reason to stop loving humanity is being dead, which we shouldn't just forget the dead

I love, Life, My Darling, My mother, My Brother, My kin
Each has their faults, but that doesn't change a thing, we are alive!
Tell me to stop loving, and I'll tell you to start, this is my life, so why should I stop loving endlessly if you won't start?

[SexChangeTranny.com]

Never Ending Darkness

My life at its fullest
its never all that great
theres a dark tunnel behind me
and a dim light to awake
going back is a big mistake
& forward has lots of turns
hills & ditches,you wanting to give in
it makes life harder to deal
agony
laying on the ground griping at pain
crying & your too weak to get back up
weakness
your body is achy,your mind dizzy
you cant think straight
the next thing you know,your awake
quickly scrammbling to your feet
& it all comes back to you

Your body starts moving, you're running
racing down the dark of the tunnel
Finding your way out,your determined
but you run forever,& you start 2 lose hope
it isn't going to end...

[Alyssa87]

HEARTS OF BEAUTY


The heart our great marvel
The might inside, its pure beauty
Though we hide from the world, I doubt it not, never

My trust, my faith is in hearts
For they are creations of a God somewhere
Its the relationship I need, religion is just not me

The beauty of a true heart
The good the bad and everything, why its so loving
For the vulnerable person underneath is worth so much love

Their weakness is part of who they are
Their strength is only a shard of beauty, part of the whole
Take every shard of the being to see the divine core, the beings we ignore even in ourselves

There is no need to hide from me
I hold no damnation in my heart, be yourself
The beauty is alive, its a whole that is unreplaceable

I give my heart with unlimited compassion and love
To take suffering of others onto me, its foolish yet this is me
I swim in the sea and won't drown any time soon for the hearts heal me in return

Its so tiring, it can take away my energy
There is nothing that will stop me though, No reason to quit
My gift from my heart is to give joy and understanding, for I won't play the part of an ass

Tell me when you look into the dark of others hearts, what do you say?
Do you say of how its too hard and you must run? Of its not worth it to love someone who has faults
Not every heart is pure but every heart deseveres to be loves the same no damnation from us to those who are alive

I look into the dark and call
" I love the one in question, there is no damnation.
I see the beauty beyond the faults, so what they are not perfect beings, nor am I so how can I banish them?"

The heart is a marvel, its beautiful
We all have purity and love, we just forget it as we go on
And the only reason to stop loving humanity is being dead, which we shouldn't just forget the dead

I love, Life, My Darling, My mother, My Brother, My kin
Each has their faults, but that doesn't change a thing, we are alive!
Tell me to stop loving, and I'll tell you to start, this is my life, so why should I stop loving endlessly if you won't start?


we rarely consider the feelings of those who have wronged us or seem to be emotionally withholding or defective.
and we certainly dont attempt to celebrate them or love them despite their seemingly closed or cold hearts in poetry.

thank you!
i love that Danielle.. with all my heart of beauty

[Welsh_Gaz]

This isn't mine, in fact it's shamelessly stolen from Welsh WWI Poet Wilfred Owen, who's probably my favourite.


Featured

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!–An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,–
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

[xploring666]

Never Ending Darkness

My life at its fullest
its never all that great
theres a dark tunnel behind me
and a dim light to awake
going back is a big mistake
& forward has lots of turns
hills & ditches,you wanting to give in
it makes life harder to deal
agony
laying on the ground griping at pain
crying & your too weak to get back up
weakness
your body is achy,your mind dizzy
you cant think straight
the next thing you know,your awake
quickly scrammbling to your feet
& it all comes back to you

Your body starts moving, you're running
racing down the dark of the tunnel
Finding your way out,your determined
but you run forever,& you start 2 lose hope
it isn't going to end...

Wow yet another side to this wonderful person for us to discover. Danielle you are an artist