Your monologue put on pause
don’t interrupt to feed me more platitudes
~ listen or say something nice
- Wordku: 5-7-5 words
Yamamoto's pitching. It's in the bag,
The Dodgers will win a pennant flag.
Of course, they'll win. How can they not?
The answer, friend, is Tanner Scott.
I hear the way you talk
of your friends without end,
the gossip goes on non-stop,
about them and their men,
so vicious the things you say,
shock to see, candidly,
imagine what you must claim
about me, when you’re free…
Back it up,
take that sh-t elsewhere,
woman, I no longer care.
Pack it up,
The drama I’ll spare,
woman, I no longer care.
Eyes sparkle when thing go wrong,
like a beast set to feast,
all the chaos makes you strong,
that you seek, like a treat.
Relish when your friends get rough,
their beak-ups, you just love,
you can never get enough,
in your gut need this stuff.
Back it up,
take that sh-t elsewhere,
woman, I no longer care.
Pack it up,
the drama I’ll spare,
woman, I no longer care.
I see your words and lies
going around everywhere,
it makes you feel alive,
when all their mistakes you blare.
Makes you think you’re better,
your ego is a damn addict,
go peddle it online,
I have got no time for this.
Back it up,
take that sh-t elsewhere,
woman, I no longer care.
Pack it up,
the drama I’ll spare,
woman, I no longer care.
It will only end in despair.
Creation…brings aggravation,
what I’m plinking…can’t match what I’m thinking.
It’s this way…since our early days,
sad to say; but I’ll keep going.
What I see…lives only in me,
can’t come out…wants to, but not allowed,
hear it plain…what I make to play,
ain’t the same; but I’ll keep going.
The details…I try to no avail,
share what’s clear…make it all appear,
always fails…what I write down seems pale,
gnash and wail; but I’ll keep going.
His image…our work just a scrimmage,
not the game…that’s well beyond our brains,
has to be…full force we can’t see,
beyond me; but I’ll keep going.
And I bet…most folks will forget,
roll their eyes…he thinks he’s worth our time,
or they blast…it seems a thankless task,
makes you crash; but I’ll keep going.
What is true…we can’t do it for you,
always there…can drive some to despair,
never ends…something now comes again,
cannot mend, if I don’t keep going…
I had glorious plans for my life.
Warm ink transforming blank pages,
destined to be a best seller!
I felt specially bound.
Printing press cranked out
a glossy-colored cover,
my name plastered
in bold black letters for all to see.
Signed inside by my creator
I only rested on the bookstore shelf
for three bitter hours
before someone adopted me.
Held gingerly each night by gentle fingers,
eagerly offering my very soul
until snores dropped me
on soft, disheveled blankets.
Word by word and line by line,
page by page, and chapter by chapter.
Night after night, I was dynamite
till shut tight.
Is that all there is?
I've slept for ten years now... in a box,
in a cobwebbed corner of a cluttered closet,
dressed up and no place to go.
I'm suffocating!
These silent pages, barren, white,
as still as any snow-filled night,
will come to life when dawn begins to breathe.
Then words, in fresh emotion caught,
like wind-blown leaves from limbs of thought,
drift down to paint the emptiness beneath.
In vivid colors, crisp and clean,
they whirl across the frozen scene
and circle in a poem like a wreath.
Where do I stand
When presented with a choice
Transported by a full force
That lands me in a false chance
Yet, I stand.
Breaking the shackles
That held me in my ankles
So tight like a buckle
Wrapped in my knuckles
Yet, I stand.
What is given is a Token
The heart that bleeds is broken
The life that fades is taken
Certain thoughts can't be driven
Yet, I stand.
I tried by following the trace
Which led me to climb the trees
That blew away my tears with its breeze
Then I felt my soul soothed by a kiss
Yet, I stand.
A Concentration was needed in the motion
But Consideration paved way for a failed emotion
Without caution moments became illusion
With a precipitation of low evaluation
Yet, I stand.
All of these void I tried to avoid
Because it placed in me a typhoid
The fever in me which devoured
And my body left to divide
Yet, I stand.
The sour in my body was bathed with gingers
Especially at the tip of my fingers
Sending a message of dangers
Yet, the pains still lingers
Yet, I stand,
Yet, I live.
You’re trying to hang tough
But your ball is in the rough
Don’t throw a fit
Just think then hit
Forget all that pro stuff
We have all had that moment of frustration
We search for words that hurt out of desperation
Having a hard time sorting out our feelings
That's the moment we become harsh in our dealings
There are times we fight to be understood
Wishing we can take back the words if we could
It doesn't pay to speak out when we're mad
We say things that leave scars which is bad
Relationships are lost and love isn't regained
Scars can heal but the words always remain
Your emotions are running high don't go no further
Whatever you say at present can ruin the future
When it comes to anger it's an honest and true fact
Never say anything you know you can't take back
“what hurt the most?”, he asked.
Struggling to hold back the tears that were threatening to resurface I replied,
“I’m not sure but, maybe it’s the fact that you didn’t hurt as much as I did,
You were not the one churning through each of our memories late at night and wondering where it all went wrong,
you were not the one crying yourself to sleep at night,
you were not the one whose heart was utterly shattered by the simplest actions.
Or maybe it’s the fact that I could never bring myself to tell you the real reason why we grew apart,
Or the fact that I had to tear my eyes away from that face of yours I would long to see all day long,
Or the fact that I lost one of the people who felt like home to me,
Maybe I miss the familiarity,
The easiness of it all.
But what hurt the most is the realization that I will never love someone like I loved you,
Yet couldn’t do the most mere of actions when I would’ve given you the world had you asked for it.
This goodbye is bittersweet but I hope it is the end because I refuse to toil like this without acknowledgement and there is nothing left in me that you have possibly not taken already.
So that is what hurt the most”
I ended
Has she left me? I wonder.
‘It’ is not the same as it once was—
The passion and the playfulness,
The tumbling of words
Finding appreciative expression.
Bereft of ideas, bereft of thought,
All my efforts coming to naught.
Dreams of she holding me tight
Once sparked metaphors deep in the night.
Now, it’s ages anything was penned,
And this was never how it was meant.
Feelings, emotions, and love—
They are all very much there.
But nothing flows from me.
And that is so rare.
You, the readers, might as well ask:
“What the hell? Why the frustration?”
I’ll say, “That is not the question.
My beloved is with me- I don’t refuse
But I still wonder, where is my Muse?”
You practice and you train,
you wrack your damn brain,
you push through the pain,
it still goes
sideways.
You’re up before dawn,
give it guts and brawn,
till the last ounce is gone,
it still goes
sideways.
You have all the tools,
and follow regs and rules,
like all the other fools,
it still goes
sideways.
You do it all right,
keep it in the fight,
hustling day and night,
it still goes
sideways.
No matter what you do,
how much you go through,
all the s*** you knew,
it still goes
sideways.
Sideways.
Sideways.
Always goes sideways.
Off the rails.
Off the track.
Backa**wards.
Catching flak.
Sideways.
Things get crazy.
S*** hits the fan.
Goes **** up.
Gotta pay the man.
Sideways.
Things gone south.
Went to the dogs.
Gone to hell.
Lost in the fog.
Just sideways.
Sideways.
To dwell on something could really drive you mad
Thinking about it over and over can really make you sad
As easy as it is for us to breathe in and breathe out
Really that's what letting something go is all about
We ponder over it making it bigger than it has to be
Allowing negative feelings or animosity take the lead
Its not that serious because changes can be made
Being able to let it go gives our forgiveness a gauge
Holding on to a matter will only sir up contention
Try to let days go by without the matter mentioned
No one or anything should steal your sleep at night
Just let it go if you're not planning to make it right
Rather you're over it or not is only for you to know
Your soul would be much happier if you just let it go
Between us, there's a wall.
On my side, there's an empty hall,
Where I scream and cry.
Then I die, and die, and die.
I'm pleading on my knees,
Fighting the frosty breeze,
Begging for your aid,
Like a poor maid.
The wall seems so reasonably thin,
But you can't hear: "Let me in, let me in."
You just simply don't care,
Which is so awfully unfair.
Shopping today was a right pain
Stopping in aisles, searching again
Trying to guide useless trollies
Buying stuff like chips and lollies
Strained up high to the topmost shelf
Drained all my strength, frazzled myself
Standing in line to pay the bill
Landing back home, ready to kill.
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