On a little red flag from the barrel of this pistol
pointed poignantly at my temple, 
it grazes the flesh and draws precious little blood in a rivulet down my neck.
I'm tempted to pull the trigger again,
to see if the gag is still funny,
for if the next chamber is loaded, I'll laugh.
Loneliness is like a lake under freeze,
iced over and still,
and hard as fucking concrete when you slip.


Like my head on the floor,
like the door
behind you as you left,
like the doors always in front of me.
Ones I've seen opened briefly;
enough to vaguely glimpse
the trees and sunshine on the other side waiting.
But I can't seem to find my keys.
They were just here, I swear;
they were in my fucking hand.
Where the hell did they go?
Goddamnit I'm late, I'm always late.


My fist through a wall that I wish was my skull,
or you heart.
The cracks in my bones are
the cracks in the ceiling
I study as I stare soundlessly, sullen.
I only ever express my anger in solitude,
and dark, where it can be hidden
by shadow, surrendered
and silently sequestered to my hearth.
My fire is burned low and I'm running out of fuel.
It's growing cold in the dwindling light,
and I know if I sleep I'll just freeze;
better to shiver and seize;
to survive, to hope to see sunrise...


She is rising and I'm blinded,
but I refuse not to stare directly into her shine.
She breaks binds,
brings back to life my corpse with her light.
I won't let her day slip away this time.
I was told that I would know it when I see it, and I see it
star-bright, burning brilliant in the sky.
I take aim and hold my trigger-hand high.
I'm not scared of consequences;

I'm just a little gun-shy.

Pagan Paul
Pagan Paul
6 days ago

How I wish I could lay my head
down gently on your thighs,
to make you moan and sigh aloud
and slowly close your eyes.

How I wish I could use my tongue
and give you more than rhyme,
to bring a flush up to your cheek,
of feelings beyond space and time.

How I wish that I could speak
in words of feathered certainty
and so entice your curious mind
to lay down with me for eternity.
© Pagan Paul (2017)

For the Muse I have yet to meet.
For the Lady I have yet to undress.
For the Lover I have yet to eat.
For the Goddess I have yet to impress.
I continue searching for you.
#love   #poetry   #words   #mind   #sex   #muse   #search   #lonliness  
Amber Hayes
Amber Hayes
7 days ago

I bruise myself when I'm reminded of your beauty, and the
Blues and purples are nearly as satisfying to my eye
As you are.

I'll let the wind blow me into the headlights of a car,
So long as you are in it and
Your face is the last thing that
I see.

You unknowingly hurt me-
I willingly hurt myself.

Some of my parts
-The ones that are left-
Work only in memory of you
And I cannot shut them down,
No matter how much I want to.

I love not only the body,
But the soul-
The photos;
The memories;
Your smile;
The clothes you wear;
The music you make;
Your glasses;
Your hair.

There is a weight that is chained to our fractured heart.

It is filled by our worst failures, and emptied by our greatest triumphs.

We wish nothing more than to be rid of this cursed pendulum, that swings to and fro as it deepens the fissures in our heart to reach our very soul.

All around us we see those whose hearts are joined with a kindred, like the morning rays in the night sky.

And the pendulum continues to swing.

We see their faces smiling, as their hearts beat in perfect harmony, a symphony of resonance with complexity and depth.

All the while our heart exudes a lonely note, sharp and unanswered.

And the pendulum continues to swing.

Our efforts to remove it have been in vain.

Our triumphs are few, and our defeats plenty, and with it, its burden grows.

And the pendulum continues to swing.

Though my boat is tossed
high upon these crests,
I fear not the deep sea
where the sailors souls rest.

Cast adrift, alone to float,
my mother Sycorax had planned.
But lo! I reach sanctuary
and dance ecstatic on the sand.

My grotesque form I treasure
but loneliness soon must end.
Yes! A monster I might be,
but Caliban needs a friend.

Paradise is mine and ripe.
Behold! A kingdom and a home!
The sun blisters all day long,
oh Muses why am I so alone?

“Hush boy! Careful of thy wish,
the scheme is so much grander.
For Prospero prowls the island
with his witch daughter Miranda”.

Run ugly Caliban. Run away.
Disappear, you must be brave.
For the Wizard has loosed Ariel,
your wretched body to enslave.

The girl holds you enchanted,
with promises of fair romance.
Feel her pull puppets strings,
watch her make You dance.

Oh Caliban! What darkness befalls,
a prisoner tithed with no trial.
Yearn, dear boy, for isolation
and the loneliness of your Isle.

© Pagan Paul (28/02/17)

I have always empathised with Caliban.
Enslaved by Prospero, teased by Miranda and
bullied by Ariel. Simply for being an outsider,
stupid, an ugly monster and supposedly subhuman.
Shakespeare's metaphor is rather apt for the way society,
in general today, treats people with mental health issues.
As freaks and outsiders, less than whole.

My fondest memories of you
Shall be spun into the finest threads,
Painstakingly woven into a blanket,
And worn on the coldest of nights,
As I sit under the stars in solitude,
Watching the Leonids burn their existence ,
Across an unforgiving, lonely, and cold black sky.

I wish you well and let go.

The best gift a person can get is the undivided attention of their love. The only thing i have ever wanted.!!!

When all alone,
Be oxymoronic;
Focus on all,
Not alone.

We're never alone.

She sits watching,
over the plain sky in wondering.
is this how my life should be?
should i even consider this real.

i have been lost for too long in my wanderings,
my dreams have become too real to compare.
yesterday i lay awake yet sleeping,
thinking of ways to make me feel better when i wake up.

then today am caught up in wanderings again,
is my life real,
or is it a dream?
have i dissociated myself too long from reality
that i don't even know if an still in pain?
have i rejected the idea of love
that now all that lives in me is anger?

have i been drown in so much sorrow
that now all i feel is anger?
have i been hurting for too long that i don't even know if am in heartbreak?

what happened to all that jolliness,
what happened to that girl who always had a smile.
what happened to me that now i do not see the beauty of the sky.
my eyes once sparkled like the stars,
but today they have been veiled with darkness.
what happened to that little girl that always tickled my interior,
the giddiness in her has died

Nathan A
Nathan A
Jan 15

She pulled out my heart.
She kept it warm and beating.
She smiled and I smiled back

My heart pulsated in her hand....

She stopped....
Took a look at my beating heart...
She smiled as she threw it too the floor
Stomping on it, till it was broken

Leaving me.



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