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  • Tuesday, July 31, 2012

    I love her, but she loves another guy.

    I won't get into to much detail but I love a girl, the problem is she loves this other guy. What should I do?

    The back story of this problem..^^
    I know I love her, or you could say I care a lot for her. I wake up every morning finding new ways to make her smile, and ways to tell her how much I care. Everyone thing was going great 7 months ago, I would hang out with her, we were friends but I knew she was special. I was nervous I didn't know how to tell her my feelings. Then it turned to tell when my ex-"FRIEND" decided to like her after his last crush rejected him. He was smarter, better looking, and older than me...I didn't have a lot to offer her besides my humor..(haha how come the fat and nerdy kid is always funny, well God gave me something) but anyways he was more touchy with her, and they started seeing each other...One night I finally told her how I felt, I opened my soul to her...but I had failed. Now they are crazy for each other, they talk about marriage...I hurt every time I see them together, not because I lost but because I know I was born to love her and make her life better, and she won't acknowledge my feelings for her. I have cried a time or to thinking about it. I feel like the other guy doesn't know what love is, he is just attached to her because he lost his virginity to her, and is his first real girlfriend...nothing I have done has worked. I know I am not the bad guy, so what do I do? 
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    Monday, July 30, 2012

    No Matter~


    No matter how submissive the night is,
    I will originate a succession
    of a hundred tones, that all begin with
    your melody.

    No matter how long my limbs have sat
    upon hard, scorching seats,
    I will not sprawl flat 'cross my bed
    until
    I have thought and thought
    all I can for you...

    Because you have not yet been
    captured, in anything but the
    greys of memory-
    and I will spend the night reflecting
    on the person I've come to know,

    and the one I wish to combine
    days we ran through
    secret meadows for us,
    on black and white keys
    with sunflower's disposition
    that speak something of the
    new unknown,

    No matter how humanly plain
    I may seem to you, I will draft
    you sand-prints, notes
    about to be swimming in ink
    as French meters train
    and long, prose-like words make
    your eyes

    indecipherable.

    No matter how late the night is,
    I won't let it end without the music
    of you.

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    Tonight, I Will Sleep Outside


    I never planned
    on returning home that night.

    I was driving past myself,
    past time that grew foggy
    in the rear view mirror.

    I couldn't figure out
    how many miles were left behind,
    how many turns were wronged,
    how many dreams were flitted,
    how many bottles were opened.

    Yet I could tell,
    by the way fear unbuttoned his chest
    in the passenger seat,
    puffed up his cigarette,
    then rolled down the window,
    that my heart was still there;

    I probably left it home,
    tucked in bed, trembling

    in regret.

    I wish I found my way home that night.

    To the front door,
    Ma glued a paper that said,
    you missed your curfew -
    sleep outside.

    Tonight, mother,
    I will sleep outside -

    a flat tire cast among road wrecks,
    a ghost crossing dead ends.

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    Circadian


    Before the dawn, I always wake up to find
    last night's dreams sleeping beneath my pillow.

    Lights flicker on outside my window
    and I just know I'm meant to be alone.

    Each morning, I stir my cup of coffee,
    diluting it with a cube of sugar.

    I don't know why, but it's become routine.


    Everywhere I look, I see nothing but love;
    unless it is the mirror I look into.
    Everytime I breathe, my lungs drown in bleakness;
    unless it is the ocean I confess to.


    Time slips quietly out the back door -
    like an unfaithful husband leaving me,
    as I hide behind heavy eyelids tonight.

    Into the cold embrace of a star-less night,
    I surrender; wishing for change to come
    or perhaps, just a distant light to wish upon.

    I don't understand why, but it's become routine.
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    Monday, July 23, 2012

    Parched


    The sun's rays are panting
    like dry tongues,
    and I've become nothing more than cracked clay
    salivating for the humidity
    of warm hands to mold me
    in the shape of a big-bellied pond

    I want to drink love like water,
    slosh it about in the belly of my soul,
    feel its roots sprout
    and cling to the muddy soil
    like newborn fingers
    that have found a mother to hold

    I want to swallow
    and be swallowed
    quite suddenly, simultaneously
    as if sweaty palms and parted lips
    were enough to quench
    even the thirstiest of tongues

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    Crabs


    It was a decade ago at the bay of youth.

    We ventured to salty waters on stony shores
    and caught red crabs in knobby finger-bones,
    chilled by wet winds that blew (how they blew)
    in the dead of winter - in the staleness
    of an old year.

    We rubbed clear snot from chaffed, pink noses,
    and blew puffs of heat into cupped hands
    on white cheekbones.
    We looked at each other and giggled,
    sharing a half-caught moment of exhilaration.
    I loved you then. I loved you,
    decidedly, my friend.

    But you laughed at me impetuously like you always do,
    and I knew (in a lie or a whisper)
    it was jealousy that would ruin us.

    We drew up blue jeans and waded deeper, deeper,
    sinking in selfish ignorance,
    pulled by sucking mud and waning neap tides.
    Our buckets were filled with miserable red pincers
    and cracking shells,
    staying alive to suffer ten more minutes.
    We spilled their death into baskets of beach bicycles
    and clattering bells - soft, hairy legs pumping
    ferociously down the broken alley roads.
    Our pedal brakes did not work.

    When I fell, you spoke something that stung
    like you always did,
    but try as I might to swallow it down, the lack of
    backbone in your callousness sickened me.
    It stuck in my throat like a bee sting.

    Your uncle waited for us in the kitchen, water boiling.
    Your aunt ballroom danced in the lounge, drunk on
    antihistamines and memories.
    We fed on fresh crab that night, slurping
    meaty flesh from softened shells, cackling
    with ancient savagery, wild eyes
    dancing in candlelight or drowning in wine.
    I loved you then, decidedly;
    I loved you as my dearest friend,
    but also as my nemesis.

    It was a decade later that your jealousy came to a
    staggering boil, blubbering over the top of
    the pot. Finally, I thought I heard the crabs scream,
    but it was not your uncle's doing.
    It was always you. You.
    You.

    When I needed you to curb your sullenness
    and remember my love for you,
    you failed wholly and regretfully.
    You failed me and you knew.
    Now I'll cut you out like a poisoned claw,
    and I'll burn you until you're cooked through,
    and I'll walk away alone.

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    Fukushima 2011


    As crimson blisters melt
    my leaking umbrella
    and toxic rain finds me
    I read a sign...

    HALF PRICE 
    RAINCOATS

    but...

    The labels says
    (Made in Chernobyl)

    and the shop is empty.

    While across the street
    the bakery has run out of flour
    yet, people form a queue

    and...

    the old man they call Kenbosho
    chokes on '45 memories.

    @Hellon 17th July 2012
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    Thursday, July 19, 2012

    SUNGSAH: Dictionary for email address ( အဘိဓာန္အတြက္ အီးေမးလ္လိပ္စာ)

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    Suicide Bridge


    My father praised me relentlessly
    from my birth; he would often say
    that it is I - of all his sons - would
    bring him glory, and that it is I,
    who would reign over his enemies.
    He would speak greatly of me; from
    dusk till dawn to anyone within an
    earshot. Many were amazed by my
    stature and prestige - as if I was
    born into royalty.

    But I pondered of my father on many
    nights; I have never spoken to him much,
    and always addressed him by a formal 'sir',
    hesitating to look in his fierce eyes. I cannot
    recall any arbitrary conversations or a genuine
    laughter shared by a father and son - he never
    took the time to learn what my interests are.

    I watched my father stumble about drunk off
    euphoria, as the horsemen of the chariot
    of time signaled to his entourage and horse
    that it was time to move on. My father in his
    drunken state would ramble of his single most
    greatest accomplishment - me, for I was a "sight
    to marvel at, the epitome of human ingenuity
    and persistence, his greatest legacy that would
    remain immortal in the hearts of all men."

    - but it was when I reached adulthood,
    that I began to have nightmares of my
    troubled past -

    From that queer day in the midst of April
    when I was born till this very moment - I
    have safeguarded a secret that no one
    knows about. I have never uttered a word
    to a single soul - in my fear of my father,
    as he would tremble in utter disgust and
    disappointment. I must confess that I am
    a grim reaper - for I witnessed silently in
    shock, the desperate pleas of people to
    provide them with a route of this cruel
    forsaken world. I'm ashamed to say that
    I willingly helped them with the faint
    markings of a smile - as I plunged their
    souls into an ocean of misery.

    I would often chuckle at the
    sight of the ocean being stained
    with their blood - it was then I
    knew that I am disturbed.

    -----
    I still remember the day when
    my mother told me that I was
    a bastard child - for I have many
    men that claim me as their son.



    Written for a club contest.
    (A poem about the history of the Golden Gate Bridge
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    In Hiding


    We talk in whispers,
    your voice a highway to my curves and
    I find your hands to be an unspoken grace,
    fingerprints designed with time bombs and missions
    that rock like lily pads on an unsettled lake.

    I've been considering my body a wetland lately,
    there's a crocodile hunger in my bite and I'm always
    craving for your love, but while my body breathes
    a bed of milkweed I find poison in your touch
    and our tongues double Dutch like we've
    been speaking through laughs of subtlety -

    too scared to be honest but it's your secrets
    that flood my body with a flame and those
    same secrets that create an atlas of ice.

    I'm not sure why we've been hiding - always
    have been dangling toes across maps of time
    and I've been exploring a body no longer mine
    that brought us to the brink of destruction while
    we often ponder what could have ever happened
    to the moonlight in the sky - it's been shaded
    by the clouds for far too long now.

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    Friday, July 13, 2012

    Love is color Blind

    Love is color Blind
    It don't matter if you're black white or yellowif you're brown or red let's get down to thatlove is color-blind
    Verse 1:I remember whrenI was a child and couldn't understandpeople having fun discriminating althe different onesmama just used to say when you grow up you'lmaybe find a wayto make these peoplsee that everything I do comes back to me
    Bridge:You gotta live your livewe're all the sameno one's to blamethey gotta live their livesjust play the game and let love reign
    Chorous:It don't matter if you're blackwhite or yellow, if your brown or red let's get down to thatlove is color-blindyou're my brother, you're my friendall that matters in the very endis to understandlove is color-blind
    TQ:I remeber as a young boy I watched my neighbourhood go up in flames I saw the whole thang thru tears of pain and a situation's rackinmy brain I wish I could fly away and never come back againwe need some lvoe y'all we need some real deal help from above y'all I mean the kids watchin'and I just can't see it stoppin', I don't understand I mean we all bleed the same blood, man!
    Bridge: You gotta live your lifebetter than our fathers didlet's make some love, baby, have some kidsthey gotta live their livesand I don't care what color they are, or u areor we areit's allovebaby!
    C-Part:You have been my motheryou could have been my brotherwhat if you were my sisterif you were my father? you could have been my fellayou could habe been mteacherwhat if you were my friend?would be so nice to meet ya
    Verse 2:take it out to the worldtell every boy and every little girlbe proud of yourselfcause you're as good as anybody elseput away your prejudiceopen your minddon't need a stick to thistry to make this earth a better place without a racial curse
    TQ: Yeahit's time for some changes






    May God bless you
    Love is color Blind - Sarah Connor.mp3
    AYake

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