Ignorance is Fear
What knowing have you
of what you speak?
The rotten fruit from which
you've bitten and consumed,
has truly brought to you
the seeds of idiocy.
What have you done,
to comprehend such words as provocative?
As pure and professional
are the letters that I form to art.
Doubt I that you
know a significant thing.
The ignorance you so proclaim,
is the fear from which you flee.
You dread whatever is misunderstood,
and without reason do you lash outward
with teeth and claw,
like some rabid beast, tormented by disease.
In the end, the clarity has marked
that yours is the feeble mind.
Yours is the debate of madness,
and the indecency of your own nature.
In the end, you know nothing,
because you are nothing.
from inside my veins.i want to sing out of tune,from inside my veins.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
become undone, fly a giant
marshmallow to the moon;
i want to jump on a sponge
three miles long and a mile wide.
i want to speak in bubbles,
just to pop all the words i wish
i hadn't said.
because i'm allergic to the sound
of wind-chimes, sea-food, and the
coasts of france.
i'm dying to become someone, but i don't
think i have a chance.
so i will throw my beer caps away,
i'll light the warehouse all ablaze.
and maybe i could lay down in the grass,
maybe i could sleep beneath
the constellations, dream about
Achilles' heels, take a breath
and breathe out sunflowers.
oh, it could happen,
one of these days.
i could be sitting at the bus stop,
and suddenly a millionaire
could be tripping, and i could catch him,
charm him, maybe. who knows?
and then i'd have sixty million pennies,
lined up in my saving's account.
and i could buy a beach house
on the coast of maine, i could
live to breathe a hundred years.
maybe i could be someone,
maybe i could.
after all, fate is
Broken PiecesIn an instantBroken Pieces3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pick up the pieces
Bond them with the glue of mistrust
Re-frame that perfect picture
That you hold so dear
Drink DeepWe are not yetDrink Deep3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
dead, but the
have you believe
that we are dying.
We have rehearsed
the methods of our
We make muses
from nature and
from each other.
We assume, like the
canyon's high-water mark,
that the floods
will not come.
Who am I
to say that
this is false,
that we have
that hold us apart-
(we are ever so slightly
levitating off the ground
and from each other.)
And the streets protest
by rehearsing the methods
of our end.
When our blood
turns to alcohol
and the first thing
they see of us
is the white
of our bones.
fingernailsfingernails have stories. attachedfingernails3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to the phalange. attached to palm.
thumbs mean good things
but the lonely index is like a toddler
[choose me. point. pick me. point
it was him. it was her. point. jab. kill]
caress with palm [bump. by bump. by crinkle]
scrape up the excess drippy-drop dead
constantly dragging over the cheeks.
such high. high cheeks. like a movie star
[sucked out. hollow. no-lunch-for-you dreamer]
she's really a model without the paint thinners.
[but she is kind of thin. paper stick lady]
fingers have bones
i love bones. chew on them whenever the
family meets for our unrequited love me.
love you fest
[do you really love medown to the limber
chew toy of my piece by piece puzzle anatomy?]
chicken parts get
DisillusionedBlack streets in the dawning lightDisillusioned3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we punch out dissonant tap dances
in high heels grinding out freedom
on the south side of suburbia
we remember the lost stars
and wonder if we're just faking,
or if our souls have curled up
in the night and relinquished
their heartbeats to the sound
of the storms of traffic.
Cultural obsessions hold bottles
of vodka, wishing they could feel
the bacterial cultures bunching
in their battered chests.
Hyper but flaccid
we slump behind screens
and pour out missives in broken english
pushing keys into our fingers
slip sliding into madness
and sadness, and when we die,
we do it for the lulz.
i am the bird with the broken wingAnd this is how the story goesi am the bird with the broken wing2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There is no high in these winter lows
The love that left me has faded away
My tears blur the night into day
For I am the bird with the broken wings
Who has fallen behind the flock,
Now I have fallen by the way side.
With no one to pick me up.
The love that left me died in my arms,
Now things are all messed up.
I am floating beneath the water,
But I cannot get back up.
The silence floats around me,
Where there used to be your voice.
I reach out in the dark,
Hoping for your touch.
All there is, is empty sheets,
A reminder of my loss.
I shudder at what my life has become,
Fragments of glass spread around the floor,
I cut myself trying to pick the pieces up.
But this is how my story goes,
There was no high in my winter lows.
The love I lost hurt too much,
Now there is no night, there is no day.
it's the little things that follow you to sleeplately, i’ve been wasting every minuteit's the little things that follow you to sleep2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
choking on inevitabilities; wondering
how many times i’ll promise myself
this year i’ll be different until
i move on to something less
unattainable. truthfully, i’m just sorry
for the ones who still think
and i have been waiting an
ugly amount of years for my
prophetic completion-- a love like
i say you’re beautiful when really i mean
you make my heart stop, like
i was born to meet you or perhaps
i’m actually breaking some universal law
of equilibrium; loving something
i want a love like that:
napkin poems, handwritten
and tender and accidental collisions
igniting a thousand forest fires
beneath my skin; me,
blossoming like a wildflower
on a california highway, basking
in the sun and ignored definition
of earthly limitations. i want to believe
that somewhere, there’s a boy
built of summer sunsets and shooting stars
for every homesick girl who never
quite fit in, t
Sometimes, It's Okay To CrySometimes, it's okay to cry.Sometimes, It's Okay To Cry1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's okay to let the world see your tears.
Sometimes, it's okay to be angry.
But the hardest is to be angry at the right time, for the right reason.
Sometimes, it's okay to let your emotions show.
Because you've been strong for too long.
Sometimes, things can shatter you permanently
But you've got to pick up the pieces and mend them back together again.
You can't stay broken forever.
Just because it's okay to cry,
Doesn't mean that you should live your life in tears.
It doesn't mean that you have to be weak.
The hardest part is telling people that you're 'not okay'.
The hardest part is telling people that you 'need help'.
Because sometimes, it's okay to not be strong.
I'm SorryI'm sorry.I'm Sorry1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm sorry that I'm never good enough.
I'm sorry for being imperfect.
I'm trying my very best.
But I'm not Superman.
I'm sorry that my 'best' doesn't reach your standards.
I'm only human.
I make mistakes.
I have flaws.
Please don't leave me.
Don't leave me just because of one little mistake.
You strike me.
You jeer at me.
You curse me.
I'm sorry that I cry every time.
Maybe I'm not worthy of you.
Why do you hate me so much?
The question has always echoed in my mind.
You never tell me the reason for your hatred.
The only words that spill out of your mouth are,
'That's not good enough'
'You're so stupid'
'You're never going to get anywhere in life'
I'm sorry I messed everything up.
I'm sorry for being me.
TimepieceThis cohesion staggers Timepiece4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Some form of mechanized calligraphy,
And all my words
About-face, and this body becomes
A factory, a virus.
Typing my tongue into these pages:
My pen in the ink cartridge
And my soul sterilized.
Without my heart,
I am two pulses away
From becoming a titanium clock.
1,001 NightsIn a land of1,001 Nights2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
dreams and dust:
the curve of
a half-hazed sun,
AbsenceShe used to lie awake all nightAbsence2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
consuming letters with voracity;
it was the utopian lair she created
to slip away from the turbulent world.
Only too soon she learned
that you can't always hide
within parchment crevices.
(reality always finds you)
Even now, when she yearns to fall between printed canyons,
she can't help but curse those passive and lethargic days;
"It's too damn easy to fall in love with words on a page."
The WriterHe lived through prophetic fever dreams.The Writer2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
::..you're worn out.this::..you're worn out.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
ruby red reflection
breaks your knees
and propels you to the ground.
smiles crack and splinter;
broken bottles of sweet honey
cracks in concrete.
healing shan't begin
until you inhale the gusts of her winds
Morbid conversation.excuse me, is anybody there?Morbid conversation.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i need some help hanging this noose.
i've got a pocket ful of insecurities and a backpack full of doubt
(please don't love me just to pass the time).
i live off of a pile of weak ambition and a bath tub overflowing with hate
(what's the point of locked doors when you just smash through my window?).
loving you is so exhausting but i need to sleep somehow
(don't forget to forget me).
i'm so filled with bullshit that there's no longer any room for sensibility
(you're not what i want but you're exactly what i need).
i would like to return this skin, sir,
it's a thousand sizes too small.
KaleidoscopeOn a field of pitch black,Kaleidoscope2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A kaleidoscope shines
In the last remembered corners
Of my tire-laden eyes.
It taunts me
It haunts me
as I try to find my way,
dancing all about me,
inviting me to play.
Hopeless dreams are mirrored
in each coloured, spiking swirl.
Promises of riches,
All the beauty of the world.
Something is wrong.
Grasp a glowing shape,
It will elude me.
I try to keep in rhythm,
The dance changes to exclude me.
Shattered glass blinks miserably
from synthesized facades.
Perfect, polished surfaces
Erupting rainbow shards.
Slicing through the head
Serves as a solemn token
Of what life must be now
Seasons of RealityWhen I was youngSeasons of Reality4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we based wishes
on catching leaves torn
from their branches,
It seemed that
strong winds and
were more reliable
than the souls of falling stars.
Stardust never graced our town.
We were the ordinary children
whose pants were too short
and whose noses always ran.
Like the April buds we had seen
before October was a glimmer
in our minds,
we would outgrow our lives
on the tree that bore us,
and when we turned,
we longed to throw ourselves
from the branches of the neighborhood
and drift further than our dreams
could carry us.
Some will be caught
in the child-like palms of fate,
but most will fall underfoot--
at the mercy of those
who trample over them.
Sir's TheologyBlack, grey, and blue in the rainbowSir's Theology3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And pink and gold in the rain,
Bloodied and bruised at the wedding
Cleanliness oft dyes the stains.
Rose-fashioned cheeks on the corpses;
A child who reeks of cadaver.
A memory upsets the future
And backwards we tumble thereafter.
A scientist hollers, "My God!" as
A preacher cites psalms of Einstein:
"Science without religion is lame,
Religion without science is blind."
Truth is assumed by believers
In ignorance masked as blind faith
"An angel!" he clings to the lie
When, truly, his reaper's a wraith.
These murkiest sources reveal
What mirrors so often condemn,
That hindsight beckons man forward
To never be sightless again.
Stay AlivePlease.Stay Alive1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Talk to me.
Tell me what shattered your heart inside.
Your heart is beating, yet, you're not alive.
You're hearing, yet, you're not listening.
You've become a black shadow.
I can see the demons in your eyes.
Your eyes have glazed over.
Your life is coming to an end.
But yet, you're still healthy, still alive.
You smile to hide your pain.
But you're slowly dying inside.
You keep saying 'I'm fine', when I know you're not.
You tell me 'it's just a phase. Don't worry'
But I've never worried so much before.
You're like a leaf
Your beauty slowly withering away, unbeknownst to everyone around you.
Soon, you're going to fall from the tree, and hit the ground.
People will walk over you, ignoring how much pain they've caused your heart.
But hold on.
It gets better, I promise.
Your heart will beat once again.
I'm hoping for a sign of life.
I'm watching for those eyes to fill with joy, like they used to be.
I beg you with all my heart.
ChambersWhen I started this relationship, I was a fool.Chambers2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The thin soft walls of my heart so fragile.
I was left in solitary.
Your words the
Your decisions the
And I was found so guilty.
Every hurt, every pinch to my skin, you brought chaos.
And i'd scratch another day gone by inside my cell.
But the day you broke up with me,
you gave me the key.
Unlocked the door
to this harsh world
And my heart,
my solitary was broken.
At least now in pain, I can be free.
Lost FreedomThey say freedom is a beautiful word, a beautiful thing. When you dream without fear and live without oppression, all you need now is for your life to embrace it. Isn't it easy though, just to think the concept that dwells in the West and disintegrates in the East could be as powerful, as life-changing, as the word "love" itself?Lost Freedom5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I beg to disagree, but then again, circumstances have dealt me a different hand.
I'm not saying that humans don't deserve to be free. I hate any repression to freedom. Human trafficking, for instance, makes me sick to the bone at the cruelty that humans can be so capable of. Being denied freedom of speech silences the hopes of future generations and reveals the cowardice ingrained in human psyche. But freedom, like love, has many different facets to it.
Freedom for me is the lightening of the soul, the inner peace within myself and with life, and the joy of knowing that burdens do not make me a shadow in the light. But for me, there is no freedom. There is onl