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Anonymous asked:

In your latest poem you have spelled "dam" as in something that holds back water as "damn" as in "lost and damned". It's a good poem, just with poetry I think spelling is all the more important. Also forgive me if "damn" was actually your intended word, but based on the context it does not seem like it.

Haha, thank you for looking out, Anonymous! That was my bad.

Give and Take

I both hate and love people,
Good people that exude every quality I could ever want,
While reminding me I will never be as good with their presence,
Bad people that terrify me in every way,
Because I can see a little of myself in each of them,
Suffering people that remind me of my own still-beating heart,
With the aches and pains I feel for them when I can do nothing,
I am tired of the feelings they evoke inside,
Tired of being reminded of my greatest weakness,
But still part of me is glad that I feel these things,
Glad that people remind me that I am alive.


Oh, rattle,

With your antler handle,

Worn smooth from baby hands,

Your sound has not dulled,

Like rain on a tin roof,

Rustling brush in the country,

Your hardened hide still in shape,

You gave such joy to my youthful self,

And still brighten up my life,

Your full aroma of tanned leather,

Your pleasing sounds of nature,

And your holding of past memories and love,

Your pointed antlers sharp in my mind,

Your pieces all taken from nature,

From her grace and bounty and assembled,

Perfectly, I might add,

Into your beautiful shape and form,

You are music to my ears and art to my eyes.


Old parchment marked with faded ink from years past,
A compass cracked from being dropped too many times,
A cellphone, worn and dead from ancient consultation,
Cluttered markings on a map, jumbled mess of roads,
Bald tires from driving in large circles without stop,
Piles of books with one stuck beneath the rest,
Dog’s bone buried among so many skeletons in the yard,
The arm of a junkie with several scars of abuse,
Young kid locked away for countless petty crimes,
Stoners isolated, caught up in their elation,
A green frog surrounded by bumpy brown toads,
A scarecrow left solitary in the field of an old crop,
The submitted assignment in a pile of others, never best,
A polished stoned buried with others, pressed and tarred.


And it still rings,
No one answers,
It rings louder,
I answer and no one is there,
I hear nothing and I hang up,
I soon forget it and it rings,
And it still rings,
The inside whirs,
It rings louder,
My ears cannot stand anymore,
The ringing will never lessen,
It rings, and rings, and rings, and rings,
No pause, no break,
Never ceasing,
Always ringing,
No silence remains here for me,
Just grinding ringing in my ears,
Ring, ring, ringing, never ceasing.

A seed yet to sprout,
Nothing but to wait,
Yet do not despair,
For one day you will break out,
Just be patient, you’re not late,
Very soon you will be there,
Time to buckle down,
Prepare yourself now,
For the time has come,
Embrace the sun, do not frown,
The warm rays on ev’ry bough,
Seeds, where all greatness is from.

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