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Writeundertheinfluence - Blog Posts

4 years ago

Wars end when wars do

Wars end when death settles

The graveyard was ready to receive me

I had so much to do still

I do not think I want to be here anymore

Here, I have found

Here is relative

Here in this life I feel small

To not want to be here is to acknowledge

There are things holding you back

There are things you do not want knowing your name

The battle cry was futile

No one wants to wait 

To experience the glory of all that bloodied violence

I am here

Living past things I was sure would kill me

Here

I am here.

I have so much life left to live still

- A.G.

(you can also read the poem from bottom to the top)


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4 years ago

Ghost Children

There are moments

Bad and hard to comprehend, mismatched;

I do not know how to 

String together an entire good life

Or a person

Out of so many broken things.

What I mean is 

The Cat gets pissed

And he yells

He’ll smash the Dog’s skull

And there is so much rage in his body.

I do not know

How to tell the men 

This fury is not something to be proud of,

To carry or pass on.

There are children who have shrunk themselves 

And swallowed their own being

To fit into houses filled with so much rage:

Children who are too loud or too dumb,

Children who will never be enough,

There is no time;

Children who would rather 

Sleep on the streets

Than be here.

Children who cut out parts of themselves,

Make themselves smaller, be appropriate,

To belong here.

Children who rebel,

Grow tired of waiting, grow weary;

Grow up

And then cry for their mothers,

Gulp their own tears.

Children sitting on floors

Of good houses

And full families

And have never been more alone,

More annoyed at themselves

For not seeing all the good,

For noticing the wreckage,

For not smiling through their own slaughter.

Children who move out 

And do things they weren’t sure 

They wanted in the first place.

The Cat screams and scratches everyone

Trying to help him,

The Hamster yells of how her life was ruined;

The Parrot bites me, claws at the Cat and 

Keeps breaking things, so many things,

Screams of his entrapment.

I am small:

A rat in a big world,

    I have never been alone.


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4 years ago

Boo.

To acknowledge the Monster is to say

It is here,

That it has been here all along;

It is to stand in the dark with a terrible thing

Hoping it does not devour you.

To be hopeful is to be terrified

Of anything otherwise;

It is to hold on

To withering threads of optimism

As the likelihood of the unfavourable

Gets the guillotine ready for your head.

To scream Monster is to say

Here stands a terrible thing

That scares me;

You cannot simply

Take the elephant out of the room

And throw it under the bus,

You know?

To be scared is to admit

You have something to be scared of

And something to be scared for.

To draw a monster and ask yourself

What makes one,

Is to ask yourself what you consider

Dreadful enough to be called inhuman.

To tell stories of your childhood

Is to say it is long gone;

It is to acknowledge

Childhood pushed you off the cliff

And ran away.

It is to say you have been

Free falling ever since,

Trying to grasp at things

That do not stay.

To have an inheritance

Is to say that

Everyone in the family is dead.

To scream Monster

Is to stand in the dark beside it

And say you know terrible well enough

To know what a Monster is.

To say you are here

Is to realize there was a time

When you were not,

That there will once again

Be a time

When you won't be here;

It is to say you don't know

What time is anymore.

To be alive

Is to be terrified

(All the time)

And hopeful,

Even if the guillotine

Is getting ready

For your very execution;

It is to turn the lights off

And sleep in the room

With the Monster

And pray like hell

It does not kill you.

- A.G.


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4 years ago

I am a walking grave

Of all the people

I did not let myself become.

This sadness is the only eulogy

They will ever hear.

There are skeletons which live in closets

That have been kept shut

For far too long

And the skeletons need their coffins

And the coffins their graves

And one too many graves

Makes a cemetry

I am the cemetery:

The door that locked its own kind out;

The graves, the coffins and the skeletons.

But I am alive, goddamn it!

Buried within myself

People I did not

Let myself become.

People were not meant

To carry so much of

What wasn't alive,

Coffins do no justice to the living.

Lives aren't meant

To be spent within boxes,

How the hell did

We get tricked into believing

They will do death any justice?

You are alive,

And everything

You could've been too,

Just not here.

But somewhere,

In another universe,

You exist

But are everything

You have always wanted to be,

And perhaps,

Someday in this life too.


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4 years ago

After Indian Mystic Poet Kabir Das

Kabir walked after death,

Walked his own body to a grave.

Flowers bloomed and plucked themselves

Out of their homes,

Placed themselves in the middle

Of life and a walk to the grave

To let a man leave in peace.

Kashi born,

He walked with the conviction

He had in his knowledge,

Challenged the Orthodoxes,

Challenged the convention;

Kashi born guaranteed a place in heavens

He gave it all up,

Got himself cremated and burried at the same time,

Got himself fights throughout life

And even afterwards,

Got himself a piece of satisfaction,

Got himself legends and disciples

And angry purohits,

Got a piece of logic and equality of castes

When there were no such words

And Brahmins were gods.

Man dead already,

Looked at his funerals,

Looked at the burial

And felt his head turn towards Meccah,

Could hear the verses ring in his ears

As the soil washed over the lack of his body:

"We created you from it,

And return you into it,

And from it we will raise you a second time";

Looked at the cremation

And felt his soul return to the gods

As they proceeded with the Antim Sanskaar, chanted:

"When thou hast made him ready,

All possessing Fire,

Then do thou give him over to the Fathers,

When he attains unto the life that waits him,

He shall become subject to the will of gods".


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4 years ago

You held me close before you stabbed me.

I guess there are people close by

Who keep you at a sword's length

So they get to use it.

Your kisses tasted an awful lot like war

And I will not be your white flag anymore.

Our fights felt like the earth shaking,

Felt like war cry;

The silence felt like an interstice between two tragedies.

Our kisses grew shorter

And interruptions became devastating

Until you finally struck and won the battle,

Won the war.

There's blood between us now

And one tragedy in all of this silence//

It has been a year since we last talked.


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4 years ago

Surgeons// Cuts

The wound bleeds.

The wound bleeds,

Gushing with everything

That was intended to be kept on the inside.

This safe of a body was not meant to be shared, sliced open,

Quite so literally.

The blood will soon clot off, sealing everything temporarily//

Body's own defense mechanism.

The surgeon will surgically remove the growth.

The local anesthetic will make your body funny;

You'll feel your ear become a fabric,

The sound of sewing of sutures

Rings in your head as the surgeon finishes.

He is impressed with how well you handled the needles.

You smile.

Being numb doesn't even feel like numbness-

A lot more like no pain

But your body turns into things

It has never been.

When you exit the operating room

He tells you to keep the dressings dry.

You text a friend,

Tell them not to hit you in the head again-

You just had surgery.

It rains on your way home.


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4 years ago

Playing God

The Gods, they envy us. 

We get to live and be done with it:

We get to die and leave.

There is no eternity hanging over our heads,

No forevers to roll the dice over.

We will not become Fallen Angels

Even if we forget our own morality.

We get to leave into the nothingness,

Become one with the Earth,

Get trodden in the very soil 

We claimed as Ours once before and then

Turned to dust in.

We become the dust;

The dust that is to us

The same as we are to the cosmos;

We are the nothing.

Galaxies erupt and entire worlds are created,

Stars explode and black holes collide,

So why does it matter that I fell from the stairs today;

Why does it matter that I stuttered in a conversation 

Or that I yelled out the wrong answer in class?

The cosmos are to us

As the Earth is to the dust specs on it;

We will be blown away and it will all still be here:

The Galaxies; the Earth within one such,

Packed with an entire Solar System,

Turning around one Sun,

They will still continue being//

In one form or another.

So why does it matter

That I will not be here

When all has been said and done,

I’d still have existed.


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4 years ago

There are things we do not talk about here.

Do not mention the lines that once

Ran along the length of your left hand,

Carved by you trying to play God

When you were barely a person//

Perhaps that was the point.

Half a year trying to make the scars disappear,

The other half spent convincing your own damn self not to.

Listen.

There are places in your head

You could disappear off to,

The ones which will make you so, so happy

And perhaps even a maniac,

But aren't maniacs just people

With enough conviction

To want to live in a world

That was their own mind's doing?

I am proud.

When the Earth tumulted and collapsed on me,

Trying to throw me off itself,

I held on with bare hands.

I dug my claws into the brown soil,

Trying to become one with the Mother,

Trying to grow myself some roots to stay.

I have already been here longer than I had imagined,

To have a place at all is magic in itself.

I have so much life left to grow roots out of.


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3 years ago

Redress

Dug out that dress--you know the one

I wore when we met, all eyeleted sunflowers

Swore I looked approachably sweet

Yet had your heart racing uncontrollably

Je ne sais quoi to buck the quotidian

An enchanting chance encounter

If only you unearthed the woman beneath

Took a dip beyond the shallow end

Peered past the Sunday-in-bed appeal

So I slip it on for me now, a better fit

More oomph than you'd know what to do with


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3 years ago

A mess from the best

Ain’t like the rest .

She was blessed by the man

With his shoulders at rest .

A danger to the devil from the inside , out

As her emotions were made to be numbed out .

Like hitler , wanting you to be his butler ,

Hid in the darkness from the stars ,

Never knew what it was like to see past the dark .

It’s a shame , but we don’t pass the blame ,

especially when your blinded by The other game .

Now she can see , so much more clearly ,

She is starting to look a lot more pearly .

The sadness in her eyes , are replaced with the sunlight .

The breeze on her skin , awakens her inner self esteem,

Something you tried to keep locked in .

A beautiful soul, you tried to hide ,

Hid beneath your evil eye .

The man with the rainbow eyes , clearly showed up in perfect time .

Her soul was crushing , a big mistake,

Made from the man, with the holes in his skin,

Who now has nothing to sink his claws in .

@trueemotions91


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4 years ago

Hey little lady,

Sitting across the bar from me,

With her pretty red hair ,

green glazed eyes

Looking everywhere

But ignoring my stare .

I just want show you how

Your life could be fair.

With a pretty little thing

Like you , I wouldn’t dare ,

I’d give you all the dreams in life,

If you just promise to be my wife ,

I love the way you hold your stare ,

When you no I’m all yours.

I just want show you happiness baby ,

So don’t be scared ,

Promise you my touch ,

Is soft ,

Coz a pretty lady like you

Belongs at the top,

So don’t be alarmed when I pull you closer,

I just wanna smell you a little bit better,

I wanna wrap your hair around my fingers,

And show you how much I really care .

@trueemotions91


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4 years ago

My mind is a jumble of words

Yet my heart sings the sweetest lullaby .

My eyes are as blue as the sky

Yet as cold as the ocean sea.

My lips are that of a angel

Yet it speaks from the devil.

My hands are strong

Yet lethal.

My brain whispers

Yet the voice inside roars.

The energy ignites me

Then all is a uproar .

@trueemotions91


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4 years ago

Anger is lethal,

As dangerous as a blade,

It only takes a second ,

To lose all self control,

A darkness covers your eyes,

To blind you from the rage,

Takes you away from the pain,

The day awakes ,

And reality is real,

Thats all it takes ,

Just one second ,

So own yourself ,

Don’t let the darkness take over,

Remember the sunlight ,

It never fades ,

Just fight the demon ,

Before it’s to late ,

Always sunshine the other side ,

Don’t let the darkness make your fate,

Half blinded by hate .

@trueemotions91


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