with no memoriesLooking at faces,
Doesn't stir my mind.
I have lost the life I once had,
And left everything behind.
Touching a hand,
Reminds me of nothing at all.
My mind is a blank slate,
With nothing to recall.
Breathing in a scent,
Brings back no memories,
Swimming through my empty mind,
I find neither letters nor stories.
Brings me closer to my death,
Knowing no one who will mourn me,
When I am past my last breath.
derelicta single black rosederelict5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
sulks upon an unknown grave,
bleeding drops of hate.
mornings of youImornings of you5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
on a creaking bench
I hold you in my eyes
the cold coffee
tastes too bitter, unlike
your sweet warm mouth
my fingers quiver
searching for the softness
that you are
fragrances of flowers
and your ethereal scent
scrapes by, so different
from your caress
delicate rose buds,
bloom to fullness
reminiscent of lips
as sunlight gleams,
my thoughts are of you
sparrowsSparrows fly overhead,sparrows6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Drifting to their clumsy nest,
Where the young ones wait.
queen of thornsa stifled rosequeen of thorns5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
breathless with its own beauty
yet with thorns adorned
I KnowI know I'm not the best looking personI Know5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
My skin is horrifying
Like the rest of my body
It's who I will always be
I know I'm nothing like your gods Edward Cullen and Jacob Black
I do not have a muscular chest or abs
Or have their clean skin
Even their charm to capture you all
I know I'm supposed to believe in hope for myself
But how can I do such thing?
When all the people will do is run away from me?
I'm not that bad
I know my ex-girlfriend says be strong
I can not though
I feel weaker and weaker
Which I guess is what mostly everyone wants
I know I'm not your good looking Prince Charming
I do not have long hair that follows the wind and flares off the sunlight
Instead my hair is high tide
The haircut of a hardcore cadet
I know that I can not give much
I don't have a job
I can only make you poems and drawings
But that's not what you want
I know that I will not have a chance
You are afraid of me
It's alright I guess, I was meant to be feared then loved
I never wanted to hurt you
I know I'
Warm HandsShe looked across at meWarm Hands6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So close, I could touch her, smell her perfume.
So close, I can almost see my reflection in her eyes.
But even I can tell that we're really worlds apart.
Later, when looking back, I wonder what she was thinking.
Mysterious is almost the right word, but still not quite.
She posses an air of confidence mixed with the tinge of a broken heart bringing her down.
I remember looking at her, and something about me, or the world made her sad.
She had looked like she was sad, but she was crying on the inside.
I'd think for hours later,
hours I still spend,
thinking about how she reached out with her hand.
A hand so much smaller than my own, a gender difference I'd known of, but never known.
My hands are always cold, like spades of ice, but she took one anyway.
And even now, I could sit for hours, looking in her eyes and holding a warm hand.
Architectural RedemptionThey are breeding.Architectural Redemption5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You think they will save me?
They go marching.
Crona's poemThe endless sorrow. The failure, the pain. The people I have let down. As I walk this beach with no water, and think of all that I have done, none of it has helped anyone. With a family that doesn't need me, a reputation that haunts me, and friends I do not deserve, I live this meaningless life. Trying my hardest not to dissapoint anyone else. And yet I do over and over. And each time I tell myself that it won't happen again. Only to fail and not only hurt myself, but others as well. Sometimes I think of what it would be like, to live a normal life. To walk a normal path. Not one filled with darkness and betrayl. Yet that will never be possible. For my blood is black, and yours is red. And that makes all the difference in the world.Crona's poem5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I would like a private word.I would like a private word please.I would like a private word.6 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You tell us you are personal and immanent, but at the same time we are shown that we are disposable and abortive to you. Unwillingly dragged into this alcoholic world by the crown, from that lucid dream we should have resided in, I have to ask the question that sits predominantly at the front of my consciousness. Can we believe in that which cannot make up his mind?
Similar to foxes, we are haunted daily and hysterically I screech your words into the nightmare. Rebelliously I take my pen to the steadfast pillar you planted, concentrated in front of us. Innate whisperings guide my movement, barely heard over the animal dim that you designed - mechanical in nature. As I carve my many questions into your goodness, my eyes fall over the distinguished tributes you gave to us. You are apathetic to everyone and as I sit in the dark corner with the rest of my people, drenched in alcohol and ethanol, with powder on my face and up my nose, shivering in
ForgottenForgotten4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Familiar faces all around,
But all that I can do is frown
Because they all just pass me by
Without a single passing "hi."
To make matters worse, everyone is in a clique
And I am never their first pick;
Somehow I'm always pushed aside
And always left aloneto die.
I never know what there is to do
So I sit here like a forgotten shoe.
I'm left behind once again,
Left alone to rot in my own sin.
So I'll sit here under my favorite tree,
And write my heartbroken poetry.
WE ARE CHARLIEnous sommes dessinateurs,WE ARE CHARLIE11 months ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
nous sommes animateurs,
nous sommes fursuiteurs,
nous sommes sculpteurs,
nous sommes photographes,
nous sommes poètes,
nous sommes écrivains,
nous sommes musiciens,
nous sommes celles et ceux qui pouvons jouir de la liberté d'expression obtenue au prix du sang de nos ancêtres,
nous sommes artistes,
nous sommes charlie.
We are designers,
we are animators,
we are fursuiteurs,
we are sculptors,
we are photographers,
we are poets,
we are writers,
we are musicians,
we are those who can enjoy the freedom of expression obtained with the blood of our ancestors,
We are artists,
we are charlie.
a child's painA small drop of red,a child's pain6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
From a slight cut on the skin...
The mother sheds tears.
three ways 'revelations'...1.three ways 'revelations'...5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
As Henry Walsh laid shriveled up underneath the sterile cotton sheets pinning him to the moldy hospital bed, he remembered a thought he had when the damn Catholics and stupid Protestants killed each other on Irish green soil.
The whole act of dying was a rather unnecessary nuisance.
All these different ways of dying were easily avoidable: disease, war, a bad potato. A man didn't have to watch his skin dry up, feel his bones brittle, lose his senses and endure the pain of his immune system failing. There was an easier way to die, should one feel the need to finally off themselves. And suicide wasn't an answer; quite frankly those acts were messier than the French Revolution.
Being that Henry was stuck with immortality (the Spanish had it wrong with their Fountain of Youth, it was actually a Holy Potato), he had a lot of time to find the answer. So he utilized this answer now, as he watched his last daytime soap opera.
"What the fuck, Walsh?"
Henry turned to his
It doesn't hurt to be a manYou can walk over my heart,It doesn't hurt to be a man5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
And I won't feel a thing.
I am as stoic as they can be,
Because I would rather not wail over a silly ring.
You can get a pretty girl near me,
And then punch me in the face,
I will not wince even a little,
You will find me full of poise and grace.
My head may be splitting with that ache,
Yet I will take that non-pain medication,
I will bear all that along with my ego,
And I don't need any medical attention.
A beautiful woman can smack me,
If she thinks I am misbehaving
I will not retaliate, because hitting a woman,
Is something I find appalling.
lifelife will drift away,life5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
slowly eroded by time...
to be lost forever
she is a rosea fiery red rose,she is a rose5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is so beautiful and calm...
surrounded by thorns
The Moon In Winter's HandsUpon one winter night my feet went walking.The Moon In Winter's Hands5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Upon a night my mind said with thought.
Of two syllables
It had a start of Be
And ended with Why.
Whether or not I cared for a reply
My mind does not mind, and neither do I.
In such light which the moon kindly gives,
A light which we see in the eyes of lovers.
Upon my left which I prefer to right,
On this night,
I see a
Hesitant fox creep forward,
Sniff the air for the scent of danger
Frolicking in the moonlight,
Matted fur, a bright orange.
The young pup.
Eternally walking for only a night.
I looked away from the field
And my heart did yield
To go on into what is
Known and unknown.
Walking past houses
None the same.
Grouped around are the people
Who abode on this road
Not to leave such a place.
Not to imaging another space.
A moon is not what they wish to see,
For it was once on TV.
Cruel is the light which shines from the house
Yellow and burning.
A child cries
A dog y
The courage for TomorrowRight now there might be a lot of things I don't understand.The courage for Tomorrow6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I'm just going to keep following this path I believe in
Any kind of friend or enemy is fine with me
As long as the flames are blazing in my heart
There's no time to stand around
There's no time to think things through
I've got all my feelings crammed in my heart
And I'm going into this scorching battle
It's such a huge wall of power
A huge darkness in the world
But I'll never give up! I'll surpass all my limits!
I'll never let go of this hand, that's helping me go on.
No matter how many times I mess up and get depressed
I will never give up, I'll never stay down
I'll face forward, and fight to go on.
I'll keep chasing after...
To the ends of the earth, To the ends of the earth,
I'll keep chasing after...
The courage for tomorrow.
nightmareA faceless monster,nightmare5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Lurking in the land of dreams
I am your nightmare
why I writeThe intoxicating thingswhy I write5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
that flow through my hand,
are not a part of me
nor are they something I can understand.
A mixture of words
and meaningless sentences,
This is why I write
to lose all my senses.
I pour what I do not have,
So that everyone can read;
Not what they can see
but can always feel.
Lies of fiction
and images of time,
This is why I write
to sever all my ties.
I look at the harmless dagger,
posing as an ode to life.
It tells me about things I know,
Yet never want to write.
Tales of failure
and ballads of tears,
This is why I write
to run away from my fears.
PoisonLet me tell you something,Poison5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
About my disfigured and scarred heart,
That shudders every moment
but doesn't fall apart.
It's like a mindless clock-
beating when it wants.
I've got no control over it.
I just hope that it never stops.
I can feel it rebel in my chest,
Thumping against my ribs.
If only someone gave me a knife
I'd cut the bastard to strips.
My mind isn't that better off either.
It's just too twisted and dark;
Filled with sins and malevolent thoughts
that are so horridly stark.
It's an unseen dead star
that devours all around it;
Leaving no remnants
Nor clues that will fit.
Insolent and unrepentant,
It keeps clouding my eyes
With images of misdeeds
on the darkest of nights.
Diseased are my heart and mind,
Working in vain for no reason.
What am I to this world
But another poison?