There is a leak I can’t seem to fix,
I called the technician,
but nobody came.
Feelings I’ve kept hidden for years
are pouring out,
bursting with intensity,
destroying the dam
I’ve spent a lifetime building.
My thoughts spiralling
in an endless vortex of misery
I cannot contain.
My heart weakened by sorrow,
burning with desire.
To speak my truth
is a battle between soul and ego,
my pride restricting my tongue,
sealing my lips in willed silence.
A veiled heart cannot be harmed,
vulnerable or exposed.
Yet this feeling of torture persists,
My truth seeping out slowly—
all in vain.
You’ve left me to waste away,
drowning in this puddle
of my own making.
Am i not worth recovery?
Wont you pull me out
and save me from myself?
Was our love not sweet enough?
Was my touch not warm enough?
Who do I have to be,
to be worthy
of the dream you sold me?
With my thinking cap on
sometimes too tight
restricting thoughts
or words to write.
Inside my head
a jumbled mess
frustration reins
I must confess.
The words must rhyme
or maybe not
a stitch in time
solutions sought.
Paper drafts
lay everywhere
of idea's cast off
for which I did not care.
Much time is given
for words just right
a poem well written
is now in sight.
The stage is set
time to prepare
with words arranged
I now can share.
Blowing through my area for a few days
gust making temperature bitterly cold
rushing underneath my coat; soo bold
penetrating my layers of clothing and boots
siphoning my body natural warmth
hands throbs with pain; gloves no help
feet and face froze noticeably numb
leg bones stiffening as I continue to step
restricting my singing and dancing blood flow
left me feeling empty, cold, and stiff head to toes
wondering, "are you trying to steal my heart and soul?"
Feelings, they come and go.
When one occurence hits the core;
Memories of the past begins to play.
I sometimes had to decide how to begin my day before I foreplay;
As it turns out, the outcomes will be a probability of 50-50 .
People, they always evolve.
Sometimes, I wonder whether they're playing their part well;
In the end, it all comes to how the environment shapes them.
I couldn't blame them for the choices they choose to act on;
For I know how different hardships hits people differently.
I remind you again;
Feelings, they come and go.
This time it's the void;
I call upon it whenever I feel overwhelmed with my feelings.
Sometimes, but most of the time, it's on autopilot;
Like a robot who's programmed to feel and not to feel for certain things.
At first, I thought it was a hassle;
But as I grew older, I begin to appreciate how I came to be.
I love my moon in capricorn;
I've yet to learn more and love every part about myself.
I thought I was hard to love;
Later, I found out I was restricting myself all along.
I've regretted how my actions hurted every loved ones;
And forever grateful for the ones who still remains to be by my side.
December 6 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Galatians 1-3
Key Verse – Galatians 1:3 Grace be to you and peace from God the Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR ASSURING US
HIS GRACE AND PEACE
Praise be to God for assuring us His grace
and peace toward:
Wondrous walk along His ways
Worshipful witness about His work
Watchful waiting according to His Word
Worthwhile winning against our weariness
Warm wakefulness, warned from wasting wealth
Galatians 2:20 Praise be to the Lord
for giving Himself to us so we can:
Live by His truth
Learn from His teachings
Love Him midst our thanksgiving
Listen to Him with our trust of triumph
Lean on Him, testifying about His trustworthiness
Galatians 3:21 Praise be to the Saviour for
redeeming us against:
Running in vain
Ruining His vessel
Refusing His victory
Rejecting His virtues
Restricting His vision. Amen!
December 6, 2024
Suffering wounds deep inside/
Felt like I been/
Sliced up by a switchblade/
Chopped to pieces/
Mind, heart and soul/
They keep beating/
On a scale of life support/
Suffering wounds, never ending/
Never to be fully restored/
Each day that goes by/
Just makes it hurt more/
The invisible switchblade/
On the inside/
Feels like Edward Scissorhand/
Soul is screaming to be tended to/
The mind is in a wreck/
Like jigsaw blades/
Heart is in a fight/
For it's life/
With restricting bands/
Tightening a person/
Spinning the wrench for more pain/
Causing life long suffering/
For a crime/
I never committed/
Boredom. B O R E D O M!
It encompasses the brain and swallows it up.
Your vision becomes altered,
you imagination takes control
and the world becomes an unmanageable mountain
of wet clay.
Unable to be delt with, the boredom lies heavy over
your body restricting you of any logical function.
T.V. commercials have newly discovered depth,
and Pop music lyrics swim uncontrollably
through your head: "do you want to ride in my Mercedes boys?"
Gravity becomes magnified,
the weight of your own body is pushing you
through the floor, and the thought
that Elvis may still be alive breaths hope
into your lifeless world.
I'm sick of you,
Tired of trying,
In love with your lies,
A mind-made paradise,
I made for myself,
All sugar coated with your colourless words,
That I dipped in my false hope
I'm sick of you,
Dreaming of restarting,
If I had the choice,
I would love with you in both lives,
Open your chained colours,
Your broken life,
Incomplete of love, by your restricting mind
I'm sick of myself,
Falling for your deceitful eyes,
A void covered by layers of veils,
When will I learn?
Drowning in my quixotic desires,
I await you,
To hear your voice again,
To melt under your gaze again,
To smile at your jokes again,
To embrace you, never let go
I guess, I'll never learn...
Fail and fail again...
consenting adults
locked eyes restricting the flow
a shared submission
The history of fiat
Is chock full of breaches
Of centralized power
That pushes and reaches
Debasing our money
The looters and leeches
Gaslighting people
With Keynesian speeches
Where is our money
In fractional banks?
They lend out in bubbles
And give us no thanks
Restricting our freedoms
With raw overreaches
Yes, the history of fiat
Is brimming with breaches
But now we have freedom
From theft and abuse
A better money in Bitcoin
And the power to choose
The central bank must be trusted not to debase the currency, but the history of fiat currencies is full of breaches of that trust. Banks must be trusted to hold our money and transfer it electronically, but they lend it out in waves of credit bubbles with barely a fraction in reserve.
Satoshi Nakamoto
here we are, abiding in bliss energised stillness
then an earthy agenda calls upon us to act
for there is a mundane task to be performed
in as ordained in our earth life role we so chose
hesitancy, if it arises, to dive into gross matter
does it not signal addiction to our comfort zone
what is that that inhibits our meditational orientation
merely by altering activity mind-body is to perform
introspecting thus we ascertain the cause within
being our inability as yet to bilocate fickle attention
which as yet has tendencies toward inertia or tamas
preferring to stagnate somewhere rather than flow
the aspect of consciousness that stagnates is ego
therefore as yet traces of feral residue remain within
restricting free and unfettered movement of presence
across all realms and domains in vibrant nonchalance
Dormant dreamy desires drowned- drained.
Melancholy merging morose mind.
Humble heart is churned, squeezed,
swirled, whirled in egoistic tornado.
Illusion, confusion, agitation restricting resolution.
Solemn soul hates to hesitate
rather is inspired to introspect, meditate, contemplate
to converge in cosmic uniqueness.
At last reached sublime serenity on eternity,
kissed by Awakening breeze of ultimate consciousness
blown beyond contour of Self -Space - Time
in symphony of ethereal hymn.
Words books and history bans
Restricting women and anti trans
Climate deniers and mogul fans
Patriots the hands in Putin’s plans
In the rain some people are salt.
Then, dissolving like one they should halt:
That God had okayed Rainfall no fault;
My challenge to delay Destined Vault…
The coldest rains could invite that vault,
One’s exposed head to it obvious fault
Does it matter that one is no salt
What you should stop a go-ahead to halt…
Then, for the living umbrella
No skipping Confined Cinderella,
Nor restricting it to Gabriela
Nor “You can’t have one, Ursula!”
A device for springing it open
Any time you want this to happen
And what you’d see: Dome-Shaped Tarpaulin:
A shade for all folks, not just Pauline…
Umbrella all thunderstorms could ravage
And one could hear Umbrella “Savage!”
At one’s service as a walking stick
With it bad legs can distances lick…
The usually easily misplaced
But not as easily the replaced;
After a pounding rain has held off
And from minds a need for it switched off…
A’s family is A’s Umbrella:
Protect one from germs: Salmonella.
The holes in its tarpaulin stitch up:
Droplets from them could start a hiccup…
The holiday’s at sunset
So the afternoon before
Is time for eating food
We won’t be eating anymore.
No bread or beer or pasta -
Not a bagel for a week!
I’ve been doing this since childhood,
So there’ll be no need to sneak.
It’s bizarre - I’m not religious
But tradition reigns supreme
And restricting what you eat is not
As hard as it might seem.
Of course, we use some substitutes
For cooking and to bake
And there are lots of recipes
For foods that we can make.
Tonight there will be matzoh balls
In soup to start our feast,
With 8 more days of special meals
Until we are released.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.