For those we lost <3

Poems for 2012

In life you can choose.
Live easy and hope it works.
Work hard and make it work.
But for some cant choose.

The life they would like they cant have.
They try there best, fight for what they want.
But in the end others tear them down.
Giving them feeling they never show.

Now they are no more.
It happened so quick.
They hope we forget them fast.
But in my mind you shall all last.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

In the memory of all the lost ones. <3

View iceyflame's Full Portfolio


To mountains we're no suprise
They've read our story, know it all
They've seen brave men succeed and rise
They've seen men fear, break and fall

Would they have anything to say
To us who want so much to learn?
To us who wonder every day
Which way our coming days will turn?

Perhaps they know, but will not tell
For we can't change the way of things
Except to live our short days well
And thankful be for what Life brings

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Inspired by a short music peace:
Mars Lasar - Sentinel Meadow

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Tangent #6395


Tangent #6395

“You've labeled me insane, though I am the one who uses his brain.”

Dumbasses and I am surrounded by them. Everywhere I look, like a zombie plague. They speak yet say nothing, walk and go no where. How else would they accept their slavery so openly?
We are living in insane times. An epic tragedy of a dream we so willingly trashed because we grew lazy and ignorant. Huddled in a corner with your scraps, listening and believing what they tell you. As long as you do not have to think right? As long as you are distracted by meaningless entertainment that helps keep you lulled into that sedative trance, that false belief that you are actually free. I often see a vary real similarity between a Zoo and the human race as a whole.
You could be robbed blind, catch the thief red handed and still convince yourself otherwise. If it's not front page news it does not become worthy of your time. Going about your lives hopped up on legal speed, often walking over those you love or care about just to climb that ladder of success. God help those who stand in their way, an ego who has devoured their vary soul. It has become human nature, to reach the top at any means necessary right? When I look out across the ocean of the ignorant masses, the ones who at a whole manifest this reality we live in. All the bigots, and assholes of society who unknowingly projects this nasty corrupt vibration across open space. I see a sickness so grotesque that is the cancer of man and their arrogance could only be described as “insane” and yet I am the one who is labeled crazy. I want to believe there is still hope for us. That out of this storm heroes will rise up, then I find myself questioning if it is even worth saving anymore. Have we the self proclaimed smartest creatures in the galaxy manged to screw things up so bad we cannot fix it?

That old Stone;

Walking down the creek bed, I came across an old stone.
Reaching down I picked it up and wondered what it has known.
Has it seen tragedy? Has it seen creation?
Does it even know the beauty to behold the setting of the sun?
That old stone, oh the secrets it has known.

Time has a way of reminding us of our failures,
the mistakes and regrets that scar for our troubles.
To live in the moment, to forget for a moment
that this old stone is simply a rock. What if it could talk
what would it say? To have known every day?

I take that old stone and skip it across the water,
and once again my mind begins to wonder.
If for only a moment in time,
moving forward leaving it all behind.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I know I retired my "Tangents" a while back ago, however this one has been brewing up for awhile now. So I've decided to dust off the folder and create one more! I know I could have put it under my "Discourse" (the bastard child of my Tangents) however as choppy and raw as this piece is, it deserves to be a Tangent for it hits home on a few subjects that have been bothering me a lot..... Hope you enjoy and as always love to hear feedback!!

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Life jackets

Everybody should wear life jackets when they're on boats.
If people fall out without them, they will not float.
If they fall out without them, they could drown.
Their loved ones will be miserable if they're no longer around.
Many people love to go out on boats to fish.
If they all wore life jackets, I'd get my wish.

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Fuck the Police.

The people who are suppose to serve and protect
Abuse their powers that's why they don't deserve respect
How are the people suppose to ask them for help
When they are scared when they find out how things are dealt
The saying "the punishment fits the crime" doesn't apply to them
As you can tell the chief's common sense is as good as pretend
So I agree with people when they say "FTP"
They're the same as the bullies but use brutality
Innocent people being pushed around and falsely accused
being thrown in jail, while the douche-bags are amused
we pay them, So we're their CEO
We should decide who stays and who goes
Some of them are good, but that is very rare
The others should be fired and taken to a daycare
Where they'll be surrounded by people who are very similar
And they all have the same name, They are criminals.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Too many stories about police brutality.

View jrestik's Full Portfolio

Weeds in Melting Sand

Roots bore into glass and found no running taps.
It cracked, and shards fell sweeping, in wide sheets,
like a living blanket that can only crumble, never warm.
The air was drowned in glimmer, poisonous to breathe,
relegated down and stamped beneath our feet just as
we see it as decor, clearly placed for we, who are
the superlative of being, though we cannot find
a softness in our seeking - a crevace that may house;
a rift of cozing doldrums that we may bleed between.
We age and we expand, driving through and forth
toward the soothing warmth, breaking every surface
that dared to hold our weight. And while we tend to forage,
and ruthlessly progress; our roots will never still,
our twigs will turn to fangs; our menagerie of truths
will soundlessly fall, while the thinning blocks of clarity
break and scatter far from these gardens made of nothing.

Tumble Elocution

I wouldn't suffice you,
not over long, but I would surprise and
be something you hadn't considered.
Who you are; I
wouldn't pretend to know, or
offer vague guesses, sure as I am
that you're to be had.
No, I've learned more than that, and
I hope you have too. If
you're a bit like me,
you only have eyes for the calm. Maybe
we can embrace it together, some time.

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Bad Breath

Offal, the slick at the back of this throat --
lucky to be set where no one would get at it.
Limping, turned liquid, stench like sour
garbage that's basked in afternoon sun
in the wettest heat, just after a storm,
as the pests are starting to get flustered.
Not where one reaches hand, nor tongue,
nor thought for more than a moment when
they're met in the hall, forced to converse,
with no lubrication for the dialogue.

Detritus, traded like a prized
commodity; currency implied
by every phony witticism and
diatribe exchanged that we'd taken
from a daily mail, some sort of joke;
each inevitably written by someone young,
sarcastic and not just a little bitter. Then,
we say our leave and take with us our heat
that we'd been breathing, releasing and
just, throwing all over the damn place.

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Tough Guy

Avenues broken down, where
he who travels is not denied -
not in spite of his ride, or wheel;
his narrow mind and heart of holes.
He who can only spite himself,
by raucous, by hearsay, by
mishearings and misgivings from
the radial noise that's endless -
the only real constant in
a suburb once intended for man
not touting an ego or a gun,
but seeking out peace in spite of it all.

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