I Built A HouseI built a houseI Built A House8 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Of stone and sweat
Loftily held together
By thousand of memories.
Within my stone stock-hold
Held some piece of me
And I hoped
It would hold you too,
That it would embrace you
And you would see the beauty
To be found in its stony arms
Cracks and crevices.
And though try as I am
This isn't what you see
What your willing to believe.
All you see are stone walls
Surrounding an empty place
Blocking your view of the sea.
I built a house
Of stone and sweat
To hold you close to me,
Meant to be a home
For our hearts with windows
So we could always
View our sea.
But instead I built walls
And a house of stone and sweat
To build you a home.
LoveIt was born with youLove9 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
and with you
It broke me in two
then assembled me
BetrayedI won't swallow your lies anymoreBetrayed7 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can't stand your presence
You used to be my friend
But you're nothing to me now
And soon you'll be
Another bad memory
I won't be able to forget
Slivers of light(French version below)Slivers of light8 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
The most dreadful winter of my life came.
I abandoned the idea of a blossoming future,
Fled the misery of my own motherland,
For a woman I have far too often dreamt of.
Among the singing buds of the Shinto shrine
A white plum caresses my back,
Its petals lull me, my eyes are sealed, sweet reverie,
A convent of grass
The junk of my thoughts
Send me to Amaterasu.
Blushing Lotus, enticing Lilacs, panting Azaleas,
So many mistresses!
Enough perfumes to be drunk from them.
Why, my promise, have I been waiting so long to join you?
Your hair like Sakura flowers
Your laughters sound like Shamisen.
Over the pond, a dragonfly sits down and begins to dream
daydreams and monsters.she was a girl.daydreams and monsters.7 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
she ran with the moon,
chased fireflies in the bluegrass, and
watched the reflection of sunsets in rain puddles.
her name was Alice,
and she was a girl.
but to the dragonflies she was a queen,
and to the mirror she was a sister.
the moon was her prince, and the
blinking windows were the eyes
that kept her safe.
she spent her nights making wishes, and she
dragged her fingers along the shooting stars
that were tangled with her vertebrae.
her name was Alice,
and she was a girl.
her body was a river
her mind was an ocean
and her heart was the sky.
she lived in a world where
doves flew in the sea and
whales swam in the
By the stairsAs I sit by the stairsBy the stairs13 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
I look out the window
And see the sun sparkle
On the freash snow
It seems I can't
Can't please anyone anymore
If I work I work to hard
Ifi sit I don't work at all
Help me I'm stuck
In a rut
Going in circles and
Round and round I go looking for a way out
The stairs give me peace for some reason
Perhaps because I work my why up
Only to be knock down again
So I say why
Why why must the world
Be so cruel
At least I feel safe
By the stairs
judgement dayhejudgement day11 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
is the scalding breath of winter.
the piss-thin streaks of dandruff snow,
is a kid afraid to be standing
in that corner because of that madman
with that coarse, red face and
but now he's sleeping
under a ragged coat,
so it might be safe? no, no,
this is the wrong memory,
this is not
how he would like
to have him etched...
standing alert and smoking
brand of cigarettes
and twirling that sad stub with
long frost-tinged fingers
back when he would respond
to his feeble
"what are you waiting for?.."
for a bark.
nothing else to wait for!.."
"the steel ship."
love poem from a suicidal personI need youlove poem from a suicidal person22 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
like I need a hole in the head
An artist (revised)An artist (revised)8 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
Staring blankly at a white sheet of paper
Can truly be an artist’s worst nightmare
An artist’s duty as its shaper
Their thoughts up in the clouds somewhere
Looking for bits of inspiration
Their eyes searching the skies
Nothing can break their concentration
Nothing can blow out the passion in their eyes
Being an artist does not always mean you are skilled
You do not need to be Picasso or Bach
It means you want to see your dream fulfilled
And that you will never give in to an art block
My Warrior Childreni look into their eyes,and though they are not empty,i know they arent seeing very clearMy Warrior Children8 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
i watch my legacy struggle for the words to express their distress
my baby boys,lost in a word of blurs and loud noise
a hug from dad,a simple gesture of love,can be enough to send them spiraling
their struggle is theirs alone,im just along for the ride
"daddy tickle me please"and then its to much,just like that they can detach and fall out of touch
then tears come because they dont know how to explain,that what was just making them laugh is now driving them insane
a scream in frustration,i see the agony in ones eyes as the other looks to me to explain
all i can do is love them,but it never seems like enough
why do these little miracles have to suffer like this?
mirror images of me at that age,but for them its difficult just to engage
what do you do when love isint the answer?
how do i help them as i watch them be consumed by this form of mental cancer
theres nobody to blame,no finger to poin
I Don't Come with the Edgesi.I Don't Come with the Edges19 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
It cries the way dragonflies leave ripples
in the rain. On days I swallow
whirlpools for breakfast and
drown with libraries for fun,
I can almost allow myself to forget
And it doesn’t want to make
me kneel on my shoulders
or pluck the weeds
from my scars;
I can see it try so hard
to be my friend.
But if I could choose
polka dots over tail lights
and sun screen over
I wouldn’t think thrice
or even once
not to blow the candles
on my grave.
That’s why I keep
the colons of analog clocks
under my tongue;
so I could keep the
figures eight of cliché’s
as keepsakes for old age.
I like to think infinities
have loopholes; tree rings
that dissolve into each other
with exhales for a caress.
And just when the tones
of lyrics would enter the
eutony of names, only then
would I drift into love.
When I wouldn’t be holding
my blood in my temples-
when all I am is a thought.
The running footsteps
we’ve come to cla
Fractureeyes burnFracture23 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
dry as the empty heart
brittle as the cold
.I stalk your words.8 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
yes, those silly
little things you scribble
down in the margins
of your dreams, and
even more so
those corporeal chains
of script that bind
your tongue fast to
the roof of your mouth.
I stalk your words
and I prey on those
who dare decipher
how the graphite tail
of your thoughts
hooks letters together
until they staunchly
sink their barbs
into the marrow of
your mind and
suck you dry.
The Wasteland Of Your YouthListen to the words that rest easiest in your heartThe Wasteland Of Your Youth6 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
‘A boy is coming that will change everything
With seven shades of emerald green in his eyes
One kiss from his lips will end your suffering
And he’ll wake you with a whisper from this nightmare
Prising the hands of hindsight from around your throat
While endeavouring to burst these unwanted thought bubbles
Before they have even had a chance to float
He’ll help you prick them with his narcolpetic needle
So you can fall back in to the limbo of your dreams
Where each lake of loathing can lead to endless love
But only through a passage of patience upstream
Take caution though as the resistance of the current
Is akin to the resistance he feels from you
To open those brown eyes that you’ve hidden so safely
Behind the flooded wasteland of your youth
Borrowed WordsI have often read the sparking souls of rare, bold men.Borrowed Words22 hours ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
They have fed me pointed words
running red with blood
and thunder, staining
everything I've said, everything
I have. Often read the sparking souls of dead old men,
their flaming, spitting thoughts.
When your tightened lungs are stirred
fill your throat with coughing birds,
put your thought into an overwrought mouth as
I have, often. Read the sparking souls of dead old men,
the trolls in their cluttered dens
surrounded by the scrimshaw bones
of ravished brides, of wasted wives.
Soapbox words scrawled across the same bodies
I have often bled the hearkening souls of. Dead old men
have led the red, hungry eyes
of Rottweiler boys
for years as they tramped through
foyers,foam dressing their blackened lips.
We have often fed the snarling souls of dead, cold men,
gone to bed with hot coal men
with lead in their veins.
Their words are a well
the world knows too well.
Too often have I read the sparking souls of red-coal me
I couldn't save youThis is to the memoryI couldn't save you14 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of your beautiful green eyes
reflecting the flames of every fire that danced before us
This is to the memory
Of every broken dish flung at the wall
And this is to all the gashes and rivers I’ve stopped
All the days spent holding your shaking form safely in my arms
Knowing you’re farther from me than ever
Despite the heat of your shaky breath on my neck
My dear friend….This is to you
and how much I wish I could have stopped it all
Taken every cell of life and slipped it back into your torn
I would have thrown away that deadly sliver of metal
thrown it far away
Farther than the mountains
Surrounding the kingdoms we created in the mud of your backyard
I’d have lifted you up into my arms and shown you just how beautiful you are
I’d have shown you how much I loved you…
But instead now you lie among the decomposing flesh of those we don’t know
Those we no longer remember
ThlipsiΘλίψηThlipsi8 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Σκόρπα τη Θλίψη σου παντού,
μέσα στο χάος του κενού
Σκόρπα τη Θλίψη σου παντού,
εκεί στο πάτο του βυθού
Σκόρπα τη Θλίψη σου παντού,
σ' όλα τα αστέρια του ουρανού.
The Prince of MarsOn the bare mattress, he trembles;The Prince of Mars16 hours ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
praying for his white knight to come back.
Devoured by the very thing he consumes,
his disposition now mimics the windows he's painted black.
No sunlight does he ever permit,
for it invokes the mischievous shadows that challenges his fight.
All reflections he forbids,
for fear of the stranger that triggers his fright.
The insatiable hunger makes him devoid of deference,
and he's willing to sell everything he owns.
All this for the few hours of heaven,
that can be bought with precious stones.
I Hate MyselfI hate myself.I Hate Myself22 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
No hatred is stronger than mine.
Nothing can compare,
No other can measure against this.
People's advice of "It will get better,"
I never accept,
because they have not been through the pain I've went through.
They just don't understand.
So, I'll just throw it all away.
Inject the love into me. Take all of me and fuck me senseless like the filthy whore I am.
I want you to abuse me,
I want to feel something, I want to feel again.
I hate being insecure.
I hate being short.
I hate being stupid.
I hate being ugly.
I hate my voice.
I hate my laugh.
I hate fairy-tale movies with happy endings.
I hate capitalism.
I hate dreaming big.
I hate optimistic, ignorant people.
I hate being a freak.
I hate being judged.
I hate having friends that are mostly girls and I'm a guy.
I hate having no friends to hang out with.
I hate my reflection.
I hate being weak, my vulnerability.
I hate leaving my family ashamed of me.
I hate that I can neve
books as peoplei am not a book to be held upon a shelf, picked up and set down at will. you may set me down, but i will pick myself up and find someone else's hands. someone else will learn my secrets and i will forge new ones on pages you haven't seen. someone else will pick me up, and it will not matter if they open the cover. their hands will be on me. their hands will gently caress my spine.books as people8 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
to willingly open my covers again is to run the risk of having literal and metaphorical doors slammed in my face. to willingly open the covers and share these pages with anyone would be a mistake. you can pry these covers open when i am cold and dead.
SenescenceI aged half my lifeSenescence8 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
in one evening;
landed on a fall moon,
full of red and the howl
Harbor womb to a fox,
more wild than my birdhands,
my vernal equinox,
his twitterpated harvest
feral child, disquiet.
I aged half my life,
wept fifty years,
Phoenix in my cola There's a phoenix in my cola,Phoenix in my cola3 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
There's a cloud in the garage,
There's a tree on my bed stand,
An eagle eating my collage!
There's a subtle beating in the night,
Of a timekeeper going "gong gong,"
Reminding me of the first time,
I heard a hit song.
There's a moon in my vacuum,
There's a crocodile in the sink,
There's a shower of lovely dimes going
"Clink clink," in the window by the bed light.
There's a lost phone hidden by puzzles in the nearest room to mine,
Oh how I wish I really knew the time.
Then technically, the moment you wake up, you actually realize
Your brain made this fantasy in a coma known as sleep,
You stop and realize there are no sheep in the bathroom sink.
But after a breakfast with a bite of granola,
Why did I think of a phoenix in my cola?
219the sky looks larger when21912 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
I see it through your eyes
the burden of infinity
DiscriminationDiscrimination16 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
Discrimination is like a snake
The prejudice is venomous
Pain through verbal abuse, so perilous
Harming others through hatred of a race
This disgrace is an abomination of human creation
The mere premises is pure pestilence that degrades honour and elegance,
Through a melting pot mentality that is a fatality to all
Those who are assimilated into the harsh reality of hatred
Discrimination, what a nasty word
It conjures thoughts and of evil deeds,
Invented by the humankind because of creed
Its language is foul,
Poisonous and sharpens the tongue
It hurts not just the mind, but also the soul
There is direct historical evidence
That prevalence of discrimination has caused
Mass eradication of a people or nation
Because they aren't white or Arab or Asian or any other race or from a society
Since when did a human being look down upon another as a liability?
Is this fuelled by greed or envy?
The poison of superiority is one that bites harder than cyanide
A great rift of a divide crosses the mind