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    Mikiesboy
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

timmy's poetry - 14. Breakable

I look at life from a distant room

where I am safe from danger

no one can touch my soul but you

though I’m afraid of where you lead

 

You care for me like a precious thing

that may break if handled roughly

you ask me to trust you and believe

that you’ll always be there to protect me

 

Feelings I hold are safer inside

I do not share them even with you

Fulfillment though comes from sharing
Teach me there is nothing to hide.

 

 

 

This sounds a little like a suicide note, it isn’t

 

Prose poem:

 

When is enough, enough? What do you do when pain doesn't end? When the journey you're on has no destination and only ends in oblivion? Why are we waiting? Just do it now. Feel coolness on your wrist. The thin red line lengthens. The sweet cut leaks the stuff of life. And who will miss you? In a day, week or year. For time marches on, relentlessly, and we forget and blind ourselves from the utter futility of our pathetic lives. We graft and spend, filling our lives with trinkets and shiny things, for they entertain and trick us into believing we mean something. And during these bleak and wasted years, we write, and make and hoard. We kill, maim, laugh, point, rape and abuse. And we call ourselves human. We smile and call ourselves humane. We call ourselves compassionate. And oh, we are not. No never that.

Enough.
Copyright © 2017 Mikiesboy; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 16
The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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I liked the first poem... life can teach us our shields keep us safe, but that is only temporary. Real safety comes from trusting and sharing with the one who has your back. Holding things in becomes an injustice to you both. I understand the frustration and anger of the second one, but we need balance in how we view this world and its people. Compassion is everywhere in the world... but there can never be enough to prevent the atrocities of those with none. All we can be is vigilant, and not bury our heads... giving up is its own atrocity... it only succeeds in leaving devastation behind... Gary xo

  • Like 3

There is a novel by Marlen Haushofer, an Austrian author, called The Wall. One morning in the Alps, the female narrator discovers that the valley has been cut off from the outside world by an invisible wall, beyond which every living being has died looking as if they had been turned to stone. Its ending is not very forgiving, no feelings discernible for the only other human being the narrator encounters, a man who may be crazy who may be desperate and who seemed dangerous.

I do not know why but the feelings you invoked reminded me of that story...

  • Like 3
11 minutes ago, Headstall said:

I liked the first poem... life can teach us our shields keep us safe, but that is only temporary. Real safety comes from trusting and sharing with the one who has your back. Holding things in becomes an injustice to you both. I understand the frustration and anger of the second one, but we need balance in how we view this world and its people. Compassion is everywhere in the world... but there can never be enough to prevent the atrocities of those with none. All we can be is vigilant, and not bury our heads... giving up is its own atrocity... it only succeeds in leaving devastation behind... Gary xo

Just my demons Gary.. and a very bad night.. right on the edge.. hugs xoxo

  • Like 3
2 hours ago, mayday said:

There is a novel by Marlen Haushofer, an Austrian author, called The Wall. One morning in the Alps, the female narrator discovers that the valley has been cut off from the outside world by an invisible wall, beyond which every living being has died looking as if they had been turned to stone. Its ending is not very forgiving, no feelings discernible for the only other human being the narrator encounters, a man who may be crazy who may be desperate and who seemed dangerous.

I do not know why but the feelings you invoked reminded me of that story...

thanks Mayday.. and that book sounds interesting...thanks for sharing all this.. and for reading xoxoxo

  • Like 2
9 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

The first poem has such interesting and powerful metaphors: looking at life from distant rooms, bring handled with delicate care, and the appeal to the teacher. Each stanza teaches me, tells me something I need to consider. All together, they are enormously strong; for I often feel the need of the lesson summarized in the last lines.  As for the prose poem, it sears my very being. Inescapable are its accusations and its conclusions. My guilt is plain, my sentence just. You write with devastating effect.

thank you Parker.. rough night and well couple of weeks..hope you're hanging in.. xoxoxo 

  • Like 2
8 hours ago, hohochan657 said:

The first poem talks to me about trust and love that requires trust and the tentative steps in that direction ...

 

For the second poem, I feel the power of anger, disappointment, disdain and all kinds of negative emotions directed at us, humans / society who are mean, cruel, greedy, hypocritical ...  but please do not lose hope ... here and there, there are still sparks of real compassion and goodness ...

Thank you hoho.. i'm okay.. things make me angry and frustrated.. and a whole bunch of stuff.. hopefully.. i'll be better now

  • Like 2
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