For Mayor, for payment, For wages, forced labour, For most run four bases, For patience, no basis. Road changes like young brains, Record-breakers, the role favours; Horses race toward old age, and the coast as it fades; Full weight behind the sail, Like regulation of the state, Your neighbour, Your patron, Afford bravery for faith, While some live, agate, Judge races from inside of a cage.
Open lies, a world full, Ocean tides, border known, Mapped upon a mobile phone, Burning eyes, wait in line, A door, for more control; Face comes first, defines, Then maybe later stones. Which would be more alone? Sitting German in Lederhosen, Burning all my former clothes, Formal close, cutting ties; Or a heart of glass, love inside, Which fights a world, nothing like?
Debbie downer of many outcomes, Money protected against downturns, Fathered from powerful maelstroms, Freshly showered out of sleep, What is deep? What is to and from, Blue sea, who flowers their queen, Without a penny, empty bellied, 'You let them down, son' Sour cherries, as he devours many Let them down yourself, please, Out of envy, twenty thousand leagues.
As I see World's fire No end soon Together We are strong Fight fire Arise now Golden light Great beyond World of hope Happiness Full of love Laughter here Forever
Warning: this is looooooong and if you’re a sensitive individual the first parts may bother you. But hopefully the last part will inspire you. Speak your truths friends. The ones who matter will love you all the harder. #worldmentalhealthday Hidden Stories They smiled, jokingly told her she looked tired, “Must’ve partied hard last night.” Smile quietly returned, “just didn’t sleep too well I guess.” She didn’t tell them how hard it was to get out of bed this morning, How sleep never came last night, How it felt like the darkness would just swallow her whole, How she felt hollow and empty and there weren’t any tears left, just an ache deep within that wouldn’t subside. And maybe if she just squeezed her eyes shut and stayed in that bed in the blacked out void, She wouldn’t have to face another day of faked smiles and “I’m ok” lies. “Just tired today I guess.” “It’s warm today man!” “What’s with the long sleeves all the time?” “Got some crazy tattoos under there?” He smiled, laughed along with them, Self-consciously ran his hands over his wrists. Over the bandages binding his secrets. They didn’t know how close he got last night, how he almost let go, How so much blood, HIS blood swirled down the drain, mixing with his tears. He was sure no one would miss him, but he wondered if he would miss this world, And the good days out in the sun, Few and far between as they were. What would they say if he were gone tomorrow? “You should’ve come out with us last night. You would’ve had so much fun...” She nodded and made those “next time” promises, though she knew they were lies. She’d stay home again, Wrapped in the icy grips of loneliness, Which felt somehow better than her burning cheeks when the right words just wouldn’t come, or the wrong ones spilled out, and she felt their eyes on her, Panic rising, thoughts frozen Wishing she’d just stayed home, Away from the judgement, And all the wrong moves she always made “Haven’t seen you around in a while! Doing ok?” His mouth smiled, head nodded, lips formed words he’d said so often, automatic. Because, really, he thought, How could I describe that moment last night, body curled up with forehead cold against the kitchen floor, Ears covered to block out the voices, Silent screams wracking his body as the panic overwhelmed him, No breath to speak, And who could he call anyway, How would he explain these moments of pure fear that slipped in unnoticed and become everything, took everything, until he was a shivering shell of himself. Sometimes he wondered, if they could see through him, would they think him weak? Would they walk away...? These people are all make-believe, but the experiences are not, taken from articles and discussions and sometimes even revelations from real-life friends. These are not my stories, but they are someone’s truths, Not their weakness, Not their short-lived sadness that they can just “get over” if you try hard enough to make them happy. (My gosh do I need to remind myself of that part sometimes...) But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. Love them y’all. Love them so damn much that you’ll sometimes break through the cracks in their self-inflicted armor. Listen to them, Give them the chance to be open and honest, And if what they say makes you flinch, imagine what it must feel like for them. Do something kind that makes them smile and get ready to do it again tomorrow. Smile and laugh with them. Cry with them. Be genuine with your thoughts and feelings. Give them space, but check on them. Pull them out of the dark for just a moment, say, “I’m here for you when you need me. And I always will be.” Mental health issues are often invisible, but still feel debilitating to the one inside that head. Stay educated. Be understanding. Love the hell out of each other. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎💗
Make a face, disappointed, Hopefully it stays that way, One appreciates a boys wit. What is pain but pain, To call a spade a spade, Our nature trail is grey. They say save whales, Scream of the rape of males, even in the face of change. Change my name, Change my state, Changing shapes on the screen again.
Throw back the covers on the incessant redundancy of another day. Putting in time for a world we no longer believe in, if ever we truly did. ...Them rose-tinted glasses were long-ago shattered... Our dedication repaid With more stolen hours Coming home with less time To spend with ourselves, Or perhaps those we purposely surround ourselves with, Than we’ll spend talking to ceiling tiles in the dark later on. Droning away the limited hours, The constant pull of a thumb , —Refreshing— Giving our ❤️s away In an opinionated match game Finger-fucking ourselves to sleep Just to say we felt alive Before succumbing to darkness With a see-you-later sayonara Whispered into black, Just like the onyx air pixels we’ll be counting later to lure heavy eyelids back into a much-too-finite slumber ...Or maybe the fluffy white bastards will do the trick Whatever helps you sleep at night... Next day, the inbox the same, Full of spam mail we unsubscribed to ages ago That somehow keeps rearing ugly heads, hydra-like with a pretty new name every time, to keep us believing in the possibility that this particular lovesick prince will be our salvation. DELETE to clear our foggy heads While trying to remember which ones are the liars. The mirage keeps on shifting. Repeat, repeat, World keeps on turning, pulling us along, A child’s toy on a string. But what if, for a moment, We turn away from from the unending axial spins, Sidestep the scythe again, seek out the sunrise... Find the beauty brave souls! Crack open that Earth-shaped geode and search out the wild world within And you know what... Go buy you a new pair of those pretty pink shades
Rejoice O' Dear Pilgrim's Steven Delvin Mututo Muturi Rejoice! Rejoice! My heart sings. It's proud,quite a revolt, Overwhelmed by high spirits. Best better made choice's_ So proud of this feeling- As not one can default_ Of all it truly seeks. Fighting the wars, merely won on the past_ previous Escapade's, On the truces of truth. Stands firm and tall, Relatively all along. A positive mentalist, A determined mindset, A humble individual_ Highly dedicated And fully determined Having negativism eradicated. Despite how it all looks, Sophistically complicated I have all my wills, Precious bills to be initiated. A focused soul. Doing the best to shake off, All the shackles of darkness Profuse dark need's_ No Hope mentality, Out of our every human borne Off the transgress, Of life's worst enemy's, That kill's hopes in life. On very self individuals, I try to wipe it all out Erasing all its crooked details_ Engraved wildly on many A blurred people's life. The negatively emotional Wrath stained life's invoice Much a strain to many. Just dearly,do hear my voice. As in your personalised mails, I will send some by the rails Tagging along recorded clips_ Mine own recorded voice Blended with messages of hope The best percussionist's theme With a perfect rhyming scheme With a Hope streams beat sets A perfect blend rhythm. Rejoice! Oo' ye' Brethren. Son's and Daughter's, Of the very Most High. Let out your faint sigh's, Relax your panting, The gulping gasps, And rest all your worries- Along the wicked fears, To the reign of the supreme On the kingdom of the Most High, Our Holy God. Lay off,Yours all earthly burdens And soar again- As a new soul, A new being_ Divinely borne Blended in Holiness's. Cast out your eyes And settle them over, The glittering sigh post_ With glittery letters of Gold, That's so clear on sight. A message of Hope, To us all- So loosen your grips_ And firm holds off the ropes, That tags,drags along The petty dark burdens Of our own pretty pasts. Embark on a Divine journey- The very new noble course, And progress with pilgrimage_ An affirmative programme, Cruising mast vast mileages Crossing many boundaries, Past many a villages, Across the horizons, Preaching the Gospel. Touching along lives. New hopes,new things Great achievements And magnificent endeavors, To people's you truly spell_ For a new life- All can spell, Walking in new Grace's New righteous traces, To the very far end..
the bedsheets, striped linen, rumpled, unkept the jar of half-full change on the nightstand the dollar store notebook full of dated dreams the bible, still lying in the nonfiction section of the bookshelf the lavender curtains, billowing in the cool spring air— I forgot to close the window. the cat meanders in after his nap in the blue blanket still draped over the armchair, he stretches big, jumps to the east windowsill, and tracks a cardinal, pupils blown wide. parting is such sweet sorrow. (2.2.188)
He asks with sorrow for another bottle, Liquor is his rowboat, antique throttle, Paddles and gives him thoughts frantic. Adjacent his attitude, pavement coffins, Adjudicating placement to favor coffers, A judge can save him, about fifty dollars, Then send Jim and Mary a judgement against. If one pulls a rope far enough, can they pull past the end? One fulfills prose full of love, do they look past themselves? One trills hopeful of the mode, whether semi or tonal in sound, Want unlike need, if one pulls a rope, can we find what we see?
Bin thinking all night Which goes outside Bin worried of bin left out Too much trash inside my house Do neighbors above jest? When no one bin in flight Do the angels laugh at our distress? Despite a sky with all yards in sight In desserts I have bin Now I know which truck rolls in Now my neighbors learn from me My bin is full of trash and now Peace
Before you my heart was empty. When you came into my life, my heart became full with your smile, your life, your sense of humor. Man, you know how to make my knees tremor. You are the reason my heart smiles.
Close one eye, My items inside it, Twinking idyllic, Twinkling Poseidon, Tell me but lies. Who is the best, At mules and tribes? Niceness undisguised, Design precise, Thrice but one, Skies full of eyes, Sum kind like, Would it not be wise, Revives, spells and cries, Men, mice and crimes, Pond scum alike, Who is this beggar then? Deckard Cain, who else?
Sidewalks broken on my boulevard, Auburn hair where I used to walk, Talk, and think of her dialogue. I'd thought greenery would fall, Replaced with concrete barriers, Perhaps I'd talked too freely, Told one too many tale too tall To still be taken seriously. Discreet forever, words picky, Discrete for ever, world sticky, Disformity for even worms licking. Take me away from this place, For even screaming and kicking, Seeing worse, feeling indignant. Not to curse the growing infant, But the plants must go. No handlebars rusted, To bikes comprised of broken dreams, No van full of children hopeful, Just a van to the hospital, please, My heart is about to explode to pieces.
Imagine your achievements dreamed, To swim upstream, one's valor full, Salmon like calendar, won tomorrow. River colander rusted and massive, Is this my love, and forever after, To be strained by dirty captives? I magic your feelings careening, To sink a damn, one's cup too full. Salt mounds like ashen piles, Too often borrowed by a saline cult. Maybe my faults found by asking, To speak upfront, one never knows, Maybe fault-lines, foundations cracking. To be a tan, army man, evil being, May be taught lies fundamentally ethic, Baby breaking, tied to shouting rhetoric.
In my city they wish for dreams, Fish in streams, with no disease. Innocently they live of demons, Give no lead, monster. Imposter husband, Who touches a lot, Possibly you are of honors, Kissing no others, Triage cupboards, heed. For up above there is no seer, Magical being informs our love, Only me. So where mist is aqua, My spirit is awestruck, A blessed potato, tucked. My stomach is full, I have work too abrupt, Where a kiss is awkward, Kids living squalid. So in my city, of missed ague, I will breakthrough, My break through, a great due. A comedic debut, no laughing, A great deal of scoffing at me. My blessed potato, to keep me warm, To be eaten, and too returns. As I scrape these tile floors, Let no-one know, current location: Somewhere forward, even from tomorrow.
Friends spoken to be millionaires paid, Mind hopeful, experience bar full, I'm hoping to get a millionaires pay, Friends along with, interiors vague. Though rhymes alone do not denote caste, They are like paste, or a paper, Clinging to the things we wish to frame. Like metal rods with a magnet lace, I walk back to my original place. Pens broken and arms folded in front, Mind hopelessly lost of useless knots. Life like a lark, but come too soon, So hopelessly lost, inside of dark, Heart fought and hard fought, And eventually the daybreak comes.
Feelings made up, makeshift, Ideals for tomorrow racist, She remarks foundation. He responds formation, Endlessly talks mountains, Flying fowl, howling oasis. The boy comes around, Left alone unanswered, Too late for pounding. Too late surmounting, Midnight is the hour, With a toy box full of clowns, Breath like oneself drowning, Her words are like fire, Counting her countenance, Even if she implied flowering, He runs away cowardly, trampling.