(nothing)Sitting on this bus,(nothing)1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I know that I am distinctly
I am the absence of this bus,
and the other passengers
There is some sort
of truth to this;
some sort of credence
that I can't
place my hands on.
(I am not the paper, only the folds
made by my fingers.
I am not the blankets,
only the indent left behind.
I am not the rain,
only the dry spots
marking the pavement.)
Even when I'm standing still,
I am not the air.
(I can only hold it in.)
No/UnseenNo angel calls my name.No/Unseen1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
No heaven waits for me.
No love to call my own,
No arms to hold me.
No death to take me.
No hate to scorn me.
No one will take my
Not even the depths
This is my punishment
for sins done in lives
Not even hated.
Until this world's end
My soul walks alone.
Unseen by the eyes of
Heaven and hell.
Unseen by the eyes
(18 October 2012)
TrustTrust.Trust1 year ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
Hard to gain.
But easily lost.
The effects will always remain.
Unless we pay the cost.
Instead of abiding by the same
A Letter to No OneThe clock ticked against silence,A Letter to No One1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Upon the cemetery of a room.
Deep sighs weave through the air,
Meager warmth in compressed despair.
Moths fall prey to a musty lampshade,
An opened window to Night’s gloom.
Thoughts dance like ripples on water,
And clouds on the hiding moon.
A lullaby plays from the gentle sound,
Made by scratching pen on paper.
One story told too many times,
Is voiced from words created.
Though this time revived from lies,
A phoenix forms the ugly truth.
The pen rolls from the wooden desk,
Having served its final use.
Old dusty dolls and teddy bears,
Watched helplessly through glassy eyes.
No star showed to twinkle hope,
Not one ray from the busy moon.
On the clock’s tick, a rope was hanging.
On the clock’s tock, a form was thrashing.
A tired, hoarse throat gasps for life,
Cut abruptly by the Reaper’s scythe.
Poems on the shelf with an unknown author.
Paintings on the wall left unsigned.
Just another heart trapped in horror,
An unfinished l
Tomorrow won't be remembered.Some days I just want to write.Tomorrow won't be remembered.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Write but no words come out.
Those jumbled thoughts won't make it to words.
How am I supposed to explain myself
when all I can give is silence and stutters.
Other times I just want to scream.
Scream from the frustration of the words
stuck in my already cluttered head.
Sometimes it makes me want to fall.
Fall away to another world where only
made up dreams come alive and
those words are forever forgotten.
Or maybe even disappear
because sometimes invisible people
have lives to live too.
They say I'm crazy.
because these fucking words don't make sense.
and to me, that's okay.
I'll just dream away my life anyways.
Tomorrow will not be remembered.
We are only made up words stuck inside our heads.
Only sometimes do they come out.
26. Tears "Coward."26. Tears1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The accusation was spat sharply into the still air.
Not offended, the silence waited.
"Fool. Didn't you see? Couldn't you tell it wouldn't help?" Drip, drip.
The lone figure stood at the foot of the new-turned grave, crying. They had waited until the rest of the mourners had gone, lingered on the outskirts until they could tell this dear deceased how they really felt. In person. Alone. They who never cried.
"You knew it wasn't going to work. You knew that even if you escaped, we'd still be here, still trying to deal with our own jacked-up lives, but without you, now. You knew you'd only cause us all grief and despair. And for what?" Drip, drip. A clenching of teeth and fists. "A miserable little coward that left me all alone."
And Don't We All Go To Heaven?your laughter startles from your throat likeAnd Don't We All Go To Heaven?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a flock of wild swans- careening, laden
birds leaving behind heavy white feathers that
catch themselves in my trachea. my eyes are dark
with intentions, and your heavy lids are
propped open like doors; letting out the
summer air. your hand moves; a flower petal
opening into place. you've taken no notice,
but i watched your bones rotate under
the skin. they lie parallel, and i see the way
your ligament and muscle hug them; tendons
reaching out like spider legs, sinuous and
taught as cello strings. i heard the sound
that pulled away from them as you flexed
and relaxed; a slow sonorous melody. blue-glass
veins branch and curve under your wrist, cocooning
bundles of nerves. your skin wears beads and
threads like low cut tank tops and
they catch my eye like ravens hoarding bits
of broken glass and shine. my carnivorous laughter
follows after your
It's Just Us and the Birdswe are as pious asIt's Just Us and the Birds2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
screaming in cathedrals and witches' chimneys alike because
who's to tell us that they're not the same,
dear? we can only hope to be
innocent enough for the chimney sweeps;
for we aren't in the safety of the tree branches
our swift-beating hearts framed in
skeletal promises are fragile
as summer flowers after
caught up in
the embodiment of inconviction-
we will always be torn between
up and down
[yes and no
right or wrong?]
and forever try to
despite us being
two long stomachs for
eating and shitting,
we've still embraced ourselves
that's a miracle that can't be bought at any price
we're alive, but
whose bullet flies faster,
theirs or ours?
we just don't have the required muscle to survive in the cold
so find a way to make i
It is the DarknessIt is the darkness that cumulates, coils and collectsIt is the Darkness1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
At the edge of the visible light; a haven in the night,
Never quite visible, always tangible. Always pulling
On the fraying edges of the mind’s tapestry that one day,
As all things must, will unravel, unwind, and remain unfinished.
It is death’s running chase that reveals ones innermost self.
There is the rain and the moon and the dark stormy clouds
And these are evocative of their master. They’re the painter’s stroke,
The craftsman’s signature style, and above all else,
They are the Roman’s requiem, solemn and persistent,
Fashioning a loose, straightforward arrangement of ominous drums,
Strong and defiant, yet quavering uncertainly in the face of painful realisations.
Death’s touch is surely the softest. They say love is a flower,
Soft and delicate, beautifully rare. But Death, Death is all these things,
Calling you softly “come in from the cold”, enfolding you gently i
Husband and Wife Supposed To For LifeIf there is a place where you know you will goHusband and Wife Supposed To For Life2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Keep some seat for me
Like the flowers you bring home
Keep me a seat--
And don't let it go.
If God wants to grab you
Snatch you out of my life
I guess He can have you
He's more than your wife
But if you have any say
In the matter of dying
Please ask Him to leave you
And please keep on trying
If the doctor is guarding
Your heart beat and soul
Tell her to stay there
Don't let her let you go
And if you have any personal
Stake in staying with me
Please love, come give it
Let us just be
If something else snatches
You out of the dark
Rail hard against it
Like fire from a spark
Lover don't leave me
I can't take goodbye
From the person I cling to
On whose shoulder I cry
Make time, God make time
Don't take my love from me
Do whatever you do
To keep lovers safe
Safe, not apart
God, doctor, you
Don't tear us apart.
Husband and wife
Supposed to for life.
drinkdrinkdrunkanabolic alcoholic, summerdrinkdrinkdrunk1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
of watching you soar through
hammock seams and i had
almost found your reluctance
but then liquor dripped
and ran rather deep -
mounds of molehills
you drained with coke
vodka leaked jaws and i
told you the dreams;
the heights summer had
-ment etched in your
left cleft joints
so swallowing, wallowing
in catabolic ache
liquid froze at the
nape of your
neck and this white-red-pink wine
you love somehow
stole summer's dreams
and winds and thaw.
Not enough Stranger...Not enough1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
That's what you were to me.
It was the first time we met.
I didn't care much about you to be honest.
You were just a regular person.
I was nothing to you as well.
We talk more frequently now.
You tell me about your past and it's darkness.
I tell you about my past and it's sadness.
We both come to an understanding.
We were sort of the same.
We were both hurt and we shut out a part of us.
I spoke to you.
You denied it.
You told me I was right.
You told me you did shut a part of you out.
I was relived.
You were starting to change.
It was for your grandpa.
It was for you.
It was for... me?
More than friends...?
We chat almost everyday now.
You didn't get any sleep because we chatted.
I was getting used to you.
You were getting used to me.
Maybe... a little too used?
I felt it.
You were starting to like me.
I was scared.
I didn't want to hurt you.
I avoided you for a month.
even then(exhausted by shame)even theneven then(exhausted by shame)2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(exhausted by shame)
i felt the pull
(the undeniable grasp)
of my other self
following the rain through
narrow prison windows
to fill the ravine of my mind
with the color of your skin
lead my blood to my hands
(lead your name to my lips)
"if i am a criminal
(as all who live are)
remove my reflection
stain my skin grey as time
do all within the reach of justice
(lifeless words carved on stone)
to tear away my tongue
and murder my protestations
on the concrete floor
i still bleed red"
and behind the exhaustion of my eyes
my greener self
(beyond the mysterious, infinite
Paradigm Of The Lost DivineTake my pitiful mind to a better place,Paradigm Of The Lost Divine1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
So I can see the brightest stars shine,
In that abysmal hope called space.
To reach out and touch a forbidden face,
Is the greatest gift anyone could find.
For I have witnessed in vast wonder,
The eternity before this epic I ponder,
Where no creature would consider his death.
But who am I to declare what is up or down?
Nothing is the name of hell in which I drown.
Take my woeful heart to a lesser worth,
So I can hear the darkest sighs scream,
In that dismal void called birth.
That genesis of so mysterious a mirth,
Is the coldest curse anyone could dream.
For I have listened to past laughter,
The velocity while this verse I slaughter,
Where no beast would believe his wrath.
But who am I to state what is rock or sand?
Solitude is the sign where hell is found.
Take my stressful body to a wilder strife,
So I can feel the mildest souls shiver,
In that baptismal fire called life.
To burn in a flame so riotous and rife,
Is the luckiest lie anyone could
Rememebr and Forget HerRemember and Forget HerRememebr and Forget Her2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There are pretty flagstones
Forming a path that you have taken
Since I have been alive.
Now, covered with moss
So green they shame the grass
You still carefully plod upon them
A traditional trod that you hold dear
And from those fuzzy steps you turn to me
And feel a loss
As heavy as the moss
You see me but no longer believe
That I am here.
When did I die, daddy?
When did you give up hope?
When did the glance you barely gave
To my window where I sit
Begin to fill you with such pain?
When did I become a drain?
How do I resurrect myself
The blonde with boyfriends
Bells and trophies
The daughter you loved to father
When did I die to you?
I mourn for her too.
Let your eyes no longer linger
At the shadow of a stranger
Staring at the flagstones upon which you stand your feet:
Remember me as someone better
Someone you were proud to have beget her
And walk from the house back to the house
With moss upon your slippers
Remember and forget her.
R.A.P.E.Receding far back into your mindR.A.P.E.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to evade the pain, so you cannot hear
the fingernails cutting wires in your brain
pulling it apart: snap
and violating all the privacy left within
Against steel arms and hands, you struggle
terror, rage, loathing: hot, boiling,
like in the summer, in every atom
of your being
leaking from your pours and leaving and eerie
Hating to Love youLife goes byHating to Love you1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Its nearly the end of October
Eleven months since you left me
And I still can't seem to keep sober
Drink after drink
Living off of intoxication
Can't mend this broken heart
But its the best medication
Holding on to the past
Feels like I'm stuck in one place
Still being haunted by your voice
And that last look on your face
I'm starting to hate
Everything I once loved about you
Like the thickness of your lips
And how your eyes would shine blue
The sound of your voice
The accent when you'd pronounce my name
What I really hate
Is that no one can pronounce it the same
I hate that I love you
And can't seem to forget you
I hate that I'm broken
And can't seem to get through
I hate that I lost you
I hate you're not here
That every day I'm lonely
And living with fear
But I no longer love you!
Or so I would love to say
But I will always love you
Just hopefully not always like today
Dueti drive down the street under the stormcloudsDuet2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with my sunglasses on, just to look cool, or sexy,
or something. i reach a
dip in the land where an embryonic stream
has been conceived in the rain. water splashes
through the open window and i laugh.
impatient fingers rest against my shoulder,
and the passersby toss labels after us.
they stare as i hold my hand out.
watch as her fingers drum into my palm,
as i pull away
silently. no apologies
linger in her throat. i've
her presence is grace enough,
and it's not her nature
to say 'sorry.' nature
doesn't change for eons and
she is here and gone,
so swiftly i'd wonder if she had
been at all, except for the
smell of storms clinging to the
undersides of my fingernails.
her nature is that of the rain,
falling where the wind blows,
and today she tumbles into me.
i'm fun, she's nothing permanent.
the sigh in my breath is
an echo of her lascivious
and the people stare
Darling DaughterDarling Daughter2 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
I often wonder what she would've looked like
I know it was gonna be a girl
I've always wanted two girls and one boy
The boy being the youngest
Perhaps I'm being foolish
Dreaming about the future
But you already made this future happen
We made this future happen
You and me
She would have your eyes
Your magnificent green eyes
And strawberry blond hair
Her dimples would be faint
And her smile would be perfect
She would've been tall
Not too tall, but not too short either
Reading would've been her favourite hobby
She would've loved everything we love
She would've been just like us
There would've only been one difference
Our daughter would've had friends
Her open and friendly personality would've been cherished
Not just by us
But by everyone
Everyone would've loved our little girl
She would've loved everyone
She would never have a reason to feel sad
She would always be happy
Happy because we loved her
She was so excited to meet us
And I her
She would've been so beautiful