Doug Collins
Doug Collins
Aug 18, 2012

Everything is spewing
Out of you like frothy
Beer
Bearing nothing
And sparing taste

Fermenting and brewing
Through all of these
Years
Yearning insignificance
And lacking grace

Red blotches
On my arm
All this harm
It's in my veins
I'm too deep
For you
This will end
Bad
Unless
You prove me
Wrong?

hilaryish
hilaryish
Jan 29, 2013

i can’t get my fingers to
move in such a way as to make
words, little ideas
that seem too much to be so
easy on paper,
so simple but evasive;
a dog chasing its tail

i’ve an appetite for genius
but no clear path

While I'm stuck in this rut
Nyx Ashling
Jul 23, 2013

Sometimes it feels like you were never here
Sometimes it feels like just yesterday that I told you it was over
That today I could just march over to yours and inform you of your abuse like a well practised debater

I know that you've moved on
While I'm stuck in this rut
The wheels spinning and spitting the same dirt from the same spot in this goddamn rut
The engines riddling the air with the same plaintive and helpless whine 
I don't know how to move on
I just keep hating you

I wrote this back in June when I was still struggling very hard to deal with my anger over my ex.
Kevin Triolo
Kevin Triolo
Dec 9, 2012

It starts slowly
with a thread
pulling out
like clumps of hair
from a frazzled scalp
aching through
bones hot
with chemicals chemicals
piercing in
screaming blood
streams trickling down.



© 2012

Alex L
Alex L
Apr 15, 2013

Just rolling along,
spinning my wheels.

Is this all there is here,
is there any more?

I just wish I knew,
where to go,
who to see,
what to do,
to find that one thing
to keep my hopes alive.

Just rolling along,
spinning my wheels.

What else is out there,
is this all that's real?

A Poem by quinfinn
" are we awake at all? "
sleepwalking to the rhythm of nothingness
unenlightened to diversity's glaring offer
steel railed direction, forced by manipulation
old vinyl malady...stylus popping repetition
gravedigger values held motionless
stuck, fluid...glass slide microscopic scrutiny
broken treatises penned to perfection, imperfect
vague betrayal of reckless predilection
blunt profundities, confused to reason's haze
candlelight life...spawn of a half death
smoke ring logic under oscillating airs
funhouse mirror reflections of life's hardened glaze
and the spiraling smog of a soul misused......


© 2013 quinfinn

david badgerow
david badgerow
Dec 3, 2011

the words are
dangling desperately

tip of my
tongue-brain

jSweptson
jSweptson
Feb 12, 2011

TIMES THE WORDS FLOW
UNENDING
AS A RUSHING RIVER
THEY HAS NO BORDERS
THEY ARE
AS THE HARSH WINTER WIND
THAT PRESSES UNFORGIVING
AGAINST MY BACK
CLUTCHING ME
I AM
VOID OF FREEDOM
IN THE DARK OF NIGHT
AS THE WIND WHISPERS
THROUGH TALL OAK TREES
THAT STAND NAKED, AS GIANTS
THEY APPEAR
WITH THE MOON PLAYING SHADOW GAMES
TIMES THE WORDS
BALL UP INSIDE OF ME
HIDING BETWEEN
THE CREASES
OF MY SOUL

jSWEPTSON

This morning
which is night
to most people
I felt tired
of doing
the same old thing
so I made a change
and here I am.

 
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