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Matthew Bridgham Aug 2014
Shh… Shh… Shh…
Shh… Shh… Shh…

cars hush by pale sod mounds of urban fields
odd Sirens sing while small plush bits of skin fall again
autumn brings the tree-cricket trilling in
and roads of dead asters in brown brush…

Shh… Shh… Shh…
Shh… Shh… Shh…
kaitlyn Dec 2013
shh, the voices are speaking again
shh, i wish to listen to them
shh, they may be giving advice
shh, this time they are saying
i should rid you all.

shh, that it's okay
to watch you fall.

shh, into the fiery reigns of Hell.
shh, not only must you go
shh, but i am to assist you on
your journey.

so the voices know you are;
where  you  are  meant  to  spend  all  **eternity.
Javaria Waseem Apr 2015
Shh!
Don't speak!
Keep your voices down
for they might hear you talking
your heart out.
Shh!
Don't speak!
Go and hide inside your shelters.
Be helpless and scared
or at least act and be selfish.
Shh!
Don't speak!
They'll silence you forever
With the power of bullets
they'll make holes in your papers.
Shh!
Don't speak!
Now run back to your work.
Don't gather around for
there's nothing here to discuss
Shh!
Don't speak!
Don't act!
Don't believe!
Shh!
Just sleep but don't you dare dream.
In the memory of Sabeen Mahmood who was shot last night for standing up for what she believed in.
Rest in peace Ma'am.
Aditya Shankar Sep 2014
Light fades away slow
And your feet move backwards
Underwater, underwater now
Shh shh shh, bubbles of time
Float by your eyes, glimmering
Glimmering
Black; in the dark every thing drowns
Back back back, you go now
Flow back, rewind to the start
Shh shh shh, it begins now
All interpretations are welcome :)
m i a Mar 2016
shh// don't speak,

trust me

your voice leaks

with inspiration, courage, trust, hope, and ugh

it reaks,

no one wants to hear all of that.
shh// don't speak,

or else you will get slapped upon the cheek,

by society for your words mean nothing darling,

they'll kick you out of their petty clique,

and we wouldn't want that now would we?
so shh// don't speak

sure you have a lovely physique,

but you're not fooling anyone,

we all know on the inside you're weak,

and if we took a peek into your dark little mind,

everyone would call you a freak.
so shh// little girl don't speak,
don't even shriek-
or squeak out a word,
because what comes out if that mouth is absurd.

**so shh//
little girl, don't speak.
this is about a girl who is held down by anxiety, fear, society, people and etc. she is afraid to use her voice.
Shofi Ahmed Apr 2017
Just a dew drop, let alone the sea,
and a handful of earth, not the Planet Ge.
Not a shade of blue, save the rose for bee
Purely a clear drop didn’t spill in the core,
because the whole sphere feels the pinch.

Singing chorus rains down, bouncing back
to earth the only open-through planet.
No black hole is as deep as the sun jumps,
dives in the dew on every flower they wet.
Every bird in the trees sings and tweets,
yet one is stone quiet, shouldn’t even hiss.
Shh! shh, the sleeping beauty is sleeping!

Cut above the rest, the unique earth
brimming with the infinite finishing line
by design pans out to the transcended pi.
Pure spring, the waterfront by the Moon,
untouched, unspoiled is her swimming pool.

How she goes by, wetting her ****** toe
Only to bubble high up the transcended circle
If only the sun could rise high in that pole,
for the rest of species could sneak a peek.
She’s there with the capstone of the pyramid!

Shots beyond the fixed circle, netting the eyeballs.
The stars, the Moon on the move for pure freedom.
The thrilled earth did come out, smelling of roses
Off the golden cut pi-decimal-abyss digital spring.
With a handful of earth and a drop of water dew
This is a pure mirroring thanks to the original, you!

At the end of the string apt you lovely took her by hand
and she took it in emptying her heart and soul.
Earth is now too thin on stock, she is no more
Just a shadow, a 360-degree hollow flute!
Oh light at the end of the tunnel shine and show
Play in like in the Night of Ascension once more!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Leah Matilda Jul 2014
Mama it happened again
He did those things to me
made me feel ashamed
shh, it’s our little secret

Mama, don’t leave me with him
What if he comes close
If I can feel his breath on my skin
Shh, It’s our little secret

Mama trenched gashes caress me
but I can’t feel it anymore
Come a little closer, can’t you see?
Shh, it’s our little secret

Mama, I cut a little too deep,
took too many pills
Please let me fall asleep
Shh, it’s our little secret


Mama, I see you crying
"Beloved daughter and friend"
I’m not sorry,
I was so tired of trying.

Shh, it’s our little secret, our little secret, our little secret.
written when I was 15 - in a group home for foster kids.
Dre Guthrie Dec 2013
You're drowning here, in your own mind,
in which the world is falling atop your skull.
The panic is setting in, the tears come, and
you are preparing to die.

Shh.

But, how can I be quiet?
If everything is dying around me, and I'll be
all alone in this treacherous darkness
watching it all end.

I'm here, and you are safe. Shh...

Are you really there...?
With me right now, and you
won't ever go...?

Yes, now shh...

... Okay. Okay...

I'll be quiet for a little while.
Alexis A Jun 2014
Shh
Don't tell anyone
But I'm not gonna eat today
I've lost 8 pounds in 5 days
I want to do better
Because I'm not happy yet
I want to be thinner
So people will like me more
I have weights under my pillow
But I'm not obsessed
A scale is just on room away
27 steps to be exact
The toilet is 28
And to give the toilet a purpose
My binge is 32 steps away
Shh
Don't tell anyone
But I don't want to live like this
But of course
I won't give it up
Not my chance to be perfect
No, I care too much
So please
Get those calories away from me
Because I want to be
Actually pretty
Shh
Don't tell anyone
But I'm willing to die
If that's what it takes.
V C Vaughn Nov 2019
SHH
Can you hear it
Come closer
SHH
Listen do you hear it now.
Come closer
SHH
Can you hear it now
My heart is beating your name
SHH
Can you hear it skipping beats
that's what you do to me
SHH
The closer you are the louder and faster
the beats
SHH
Can you hear it
Phil Lindsey Jun 2015
Soon, the masterpiece will come.
Shh, soon you’ll fall asleep,
And maybe in your dreams discover
Words and lines to keep.

For the darkness is a tunnel
Straight to Heaven’s door,
There a thousand poets wait for you -
A thousand gone before,
Before their works were finished,
Before their jobs were through
Now creation of the masterpiece
Is solely up to you.

Hear their spirit, poet!
Listen very close.
You’ve been chosen as the protégé
But do not brag or boast
For the masterpiece consumes you,
Like hell-fire, burns you up,
Leaves you thirsting for some water
And reaching for a cup,
That crumbles when you grab it.
While the water turns to dust,
But still you keep on reaching, reaching,
You must, you must, you must.

Feel their breath, oh poet!
Cool upon your skin,
Though sweat and perspiration
Reveal the torment trapped within.
For the masterpiece consumes you,
Like a pen that’s out of ink,
Leaves you reaching for a pencil,
And needing time to think,
But both ends are erasers
Now your passion turned to lust
So still you keep on reaching, reaching,
You must, you must, you must.

For the darkness is a tunnel
A tunnel straight to Hell
There a thousand poets wait for you -
At a long abandoned well,
Before their works were finished,
The waters all ran dry
There will be no masterpiece
If all the poets die.

Shh, soon the masterpiece will come.
Shh, soon you’ll fall asleep,
And a thousand poets after you
Will search for words and lines to keep.
Phil Lindsey 6/9/15
William Jan 2014
Shh shh
close your eyes,
shh shh
you feel that pain? It will dissipate
be strong. dry your eyes
for life will move on.

You'll put gravel in your guts and dirt in your eyes.
you'll be strong, you'll stay put.
no force on earth will move you
no hand will shake your hold.
no fist will burden your load.

You will be strong.

You are alone  now though
and you will stay alone, least you
push on, Push On, PUSH ON
be strong

You will rise from the darkness one day
and shine with a light all your own,
for you are strong.
M Cannon Feb 2015
Shh baby girl, it'll be okay

On the cold wooden floor she lies,
Her small body trembling with fear,
Three nights before Christmas.

Her eyes clenched in terror,
As a rough hand moves down her body.
Her silent sobs cannot be heard.

With her mother in the next room,
A  4 year old girl's innocence is taken,
Just in time for Christmas.

Shh baby girl, it'll be okay

A 6 year old girl alone with a friend,
Locked in an old dark shed.
Unfamiliar touches cross her body again.

A friend whose touch in no longer kind,
One little girl who is trapped inside her mind.
Another set of sobs that are forever silenced.

A little girl who was discarded,
A broken toy.
This little girl was nothing but used.

Shh baby girl, it'll be okay

A young teen speaks the truth,
She sits in a chair
Before judgmental eyes.

She speaks of a man
From many years ago,
And of the friend she used to know.

The eyes just narrow tightly and scold,
It's the little girl's fault,
She should have yelled out.

These eyes don't care that the man was armed.
These eyes don't care that the girl was strong.

These eyes defend their son,
The one who is in jail for molesting his sister,
But as his cousin, *I don't count
.

These eyes defend their daughter,
The one who was violated herself.
They said I was overreacting,
It is I who was the bad judge of character.

To this day, there is a little girl,
Trapped and trembling,
Scarred and scared.
Trapped forever inside her adult body.

*Shh baby girl, it'll be okay
This is my story. I'm sorry if its hard to read but don't comment rude things. I don't deserve it, nor does anyone else.
Thank you.
Abigail Bryant May 2012
One day my brother and I walked the path to the Mango Tree
I was so happy to go see my friend the mango tree.
How ever my brother was not…
What’s so great about a stupid ol’ mango tree it’s never done anything for me!
SHH!” I said scornfully “She has feelings too, and she has done much for you. She has given us her fruit to fill our bellies and shade for free.
But my brother didn’t listen to me,
He stubbornly went and kicked the tree repeatedly.
And yelled “Mango Trees do NOT have feelings!
The tree shook violently and out from under it’s leaves dropped a bright green mango SMACK right on my brothers head and he fell dead.
Another juicy plump mango dropped at my feet like the Mango Tree was thanking me.
I picked it up and sat beside my senseless brother by the Mango Tree while devouring my mango and enjoying the silent scenery.
Sky May 2016
Well, everything is spinning,
And it’s all because of you,
Darling, you’ve left me dizzy
From the lack of oxygen
You’re stealing all my oxygen
The fire in your veins
Yanks the breath from between my lips
And sets fire to my heart

Dance with me in the flames,
Dance with me, don’t play their little games
I’m your dance partner ‘till the universe dies
Don’t listen to the voices, baby, they all tell lies

Well, you’re telling me something’s wrong
There’s a piece in your head
that’s not quite right
You tell me that you’re just not right
But I just want to kiss you,
Hush
I don’t care if you’re a shattered mirror
Reflecting my pain
I see your soul,
and it shines bright next to mine

Dance with me in the flames,
Dance with me, don’t play their little games
I’m your dance partner ‘till the universe dies
Don’t listen to the voices, baby, they all tell lies

(Shh!)
All those people saying you’re broken
They tell lies, darlin’,
(Don’t listen, don’t listen)
(Shh!)
And the voice in your head that says
That maybe you’re just better off dead
It’s lying to you, baby
(I can tell you the only truth)
Dance with me in the flames,
Dance with me, don’t play their little games
I’m your dance partner ‘till the universe dies
Don’t listen to the voices, baby, they all tell lies

(Shh!)
I’ll be your dance partner ‘till the universe dies
(Shh!)
I promise you, baby, I won’t tell you any lies
Kemy Sep 2018
Can you feel it
Shh, allow the galaxy to pamper your body, blanket the essence of your mind, bit-by-bit
Travel on a higher awareness to understand the galaxy’s gentle gift
Close your eyes and allow your mind to softly drift

Soft Moonlight Dust
Illuminating the night skies, given warmth of its inner trust
Centered in the sky, a star abates for its enlighten ******
Kindred minds to enrapture, as souls physically adjust

So gentle, as a touch to the skin
An inner space to conquer, there an exploring craving begins
Awareness of self stirring into the constellation
Bodies attuned beyond the stretch of imagination
Savoring on the flavor of the alignment sweeten taste
Desires igniting an inferno, the heat of its flames refusing to wait

Overheated friction surrendering without debates
Runaway yearning weakening in the presence of fate
The ecstasy of the moonlight’s dust felt, abiding to the crack of dawn
Emotions of the elixir slowly withdrawn

A Cheshire moonrise
Always a sacred communion given in surprise
Masked feelings hidden behind the stars in our eyes
Sprinkles of pixie dust as the moon becomes full
Paired upon, as lace meets wool
Interwoven and tenderly spun on a galactic spool

Stars In Exile
Twinkling for eyes to glimpse beyond the earth’s smile
Canopus to Antares, oh how you make me shine
Closing my eyes, coveting your point as I’m making you mine

Settled and glittering as small diamonds binding in the sky
A wondrous elopement to experience in the blink of an eye
Soft whispers to the ones that shoot right before they fall
Such a beautiful and breathlessly cadence to wish under them all

The Gift Of The Sun’s Stroke
Umm, shooting stars kept me awoke
Relentless bodies bathing under the moon
Caresses, touches, entwined souls echoing the note of its weakening tunes

Sweeter and sweeter, deeper and deeper
Bodies fueled, hot as a heater, bodies climbing steeper and steeper
Heat consumes the interior of the temple
Sweat of life, as movements come together and then disassemble
Elated, sedated, dipping in a cool blue lagoon
Kisses under the sun on a beautiful afternoon
Temperatures rising not a moment too soon

June slamming into summer’s heat
A merriment of a sun stroke basking in the glorious feast
The galaxy and its spicy passion
A gift to the world to enjoy in any unbridled fashion
She would give them order. She would create constellations.
Thomas Pynchon
Jellyfish Dec 2014
You taught me how to be pro,
It's not like I was ever proficient,
Tibbers goes where he pleases.
But of course you knew that,

You've always been 100 percent-
Cheesey. And because of that,
You sound silly all the time.
Well, okay maybe that's a lie.

But you are a true goof ball.
And I know I'm a dork, but
You catch me when I fall.
And I love that about you.

Shh, that's supposed to be a secret.
Oh yeah, I mean.. it's not like I meant it.
We all know he's an idiot, right?
Wrong. But I won't keep going on.

What am I saying? My words are all over-
The place. Look me straight in the face.
I want you to know that I want to embrace-
You. But I'll give you your space, it's okay.

I don't need it.
My heart is
Complacent.
You are my-

Inspiration.

To land that stun.
You know I will.
We'll get the ****.
Don't say you're done.

We got this Thunder Lord,
Now don't be blunt.
Tell me your opinons,
You know I want to hear em'

Whether it's about past topics,
Or about what I'm writing.
Tell me what you think about-
Anything, just don't get toxic.
Somebody is shooting at something in our town --
A dull pom, pom in the Sunday street.
Jealousy can open the blood,
It can make black roses.
Who are the shooting at?

It is you the knives are out for
At Waterloo, Waterloo, Napoleon,
The **** of Elba on your short back,
And the snow, marshaling its brilliant cutlery
Mass after mass, saying Shh!

Shh! These are chess people you play with,
Still figures of ivory.
The mud squirms with throats,
Stepping stones for French bootsoles.
The gilt and pink domes of Russia melt and float off

In the furnace of greed. Clouds, clouds.
So the swarm ***** and deserts
Seventy feet up, in a black pine tree.
It must be shot down. Pom! Pom!
So dumb it thinks bullets are thunder.

It thinks they are the voice of God
Condoning the beak, the claw, the grin of the dog
Yellow-haunched, a pack-dog,
Grinning over its bone of ivory
Like the pack, the pack, like everybody.

The bees have got so far. Seventy feet high!
Russia, Poland and Germany!
The mild hills, the same old magenta
Fields shrunk to a penny
Spun into a river, the river crossed.

The bees argue, in their black ball,
A flying hedgehog, all prickles.
The man with gray hands stands under the honeycomb
Of their dream, the hived station
Where trains, faithful to their steel arcs,

Leave and arrive, and there is no end to the country.
Pom! Pom! They fall
Dismembered, to a tod of ivy.
So much for the charioteers, the outriders, the Grand Army!
A red tatter, Napoleon!

The last badge of victory.
The swarm is knocked into a cocked straw hat.
Elba, Elba, bleb on the sea!
The white busts of marshals, admirals, generals
Worming themselves into niches.

How instructive this is!
The dumb, banded bodies
Walking the plank draped with Mother France's upholstery
Into a new mausoleum,
An ivory palace, a crotch pine.

The man with gray hands smiles --
The smile of a man of business, intensely practical.
They are not hands at all
But asbestos receptacles.
Pom! Pom! 'They would have killed me.'

Stings big as drawing pins!
It seems bees have a notion of honor,
A black intractable mind.
Napoleon is pleased, he is pleased with everything.
O Europe! O ton of honey!
To be loved or to be killed answers by Mario Antonio,
A beach signature novel, very guilty and very pleasure
Soaked in with characters of mafia and every targeted ******.

Shh!——He is whispering to me
“Keep your friends close but your enemies closer”
Who is under control, who cares about the battel

Whispering Shh! Some say the world has balanced ball
Godfather is a silent observer. With guilty but pleasure
He demands no power but friendship loyalty.
Struck fear in everyone he has known.

Shh! These are Five Families he plays with,
Still figures of glory. Shh! check the ground
The mud ******* dragon flight throats,
Stepping stones from Europe boot soles.

The Cloud, clouds. Under defence of greed.
The gilt and secure domes of Russia melt and float off
He commands dragonflies behind the clouds
with circled country borders. Across countries and spaces.

Like the drone, drone like shooting machine.
The invisible drone has got so far,  with 400 feet height!
The Pentagon calling Trafalgar Square
Russia, Ukraine game theory with Tianmen Square

Back and forth of tactical and strategic manoeuvring,
with every character shining in little part he must play
“Your enemies always get strong on what you leave behind”

The drone, The Cloud, clouds drone
He is a silent observer, the Godfather.
Reflect from the novel "Godfather" and with current world power tackle Europe, US and China.
Reflect from the novel "Godfather" and with current world power balance.
Notwithstanding the allies’ early show of unity in the wake of the Russian attack on Ukraine, some of their differences and challenges to a more robust NATO posture have not disappeared entirely.  The nature of power is Changing.
Lakshmy Menon Apr 2018
SHH -
That is the way they spell it.
One snake, two ladders.
That's life - so calm down, the sound seems to say
as it escapes your rounded lips.

SHH,
The grown-up cousin
of the sizzle -
the sensuous serpentine siren,
the sunken sinner without a ladder,
the hiss that emanates like a mating call
as our limbs entwine.

SHH.
As it emerges from your throat,
it lingers on your tongue just a little,
grazes your teeth just a little,
before landing decisively in my ears
like a slightly tempted ascetic.


SHH...may the ellipsis lead us to the ladders.
SHH...
hannah Sep 2014
"shh don't talk" the monsters,
they can hear you.

"stop don't move" the monsters,
they can see you.

oh wait.

the monster is inside you.
bad ik but just read and see the message in it.
Cathy E Hodgson Jul 2014
Softly Tenderly

Shh, shh, whispers sing gently
Heart quickens in rhythm and rhyme
Softly tenderly held in whispered lips
Traveling to heavens pearl gate divine

Shh, shh, don’t say a word
I hear your heart with mine
Softly, tenderly singing our rhyme
Our golden canopy fingers entwined

Glistening smooth skin savoring touch
Breezy window ruffles our climb
Softly, tenderly kissing finger tips
Together eternally two hearts that chime

© cat hodgson
yúyīn Jan 2017
Everyone comes with scars,
But you can love them away.
I told you that I wasn't perfect,
You told me the same
'You don't get it, I-"
'Shh, I love you, imperfections and all',
You said
But a month later,
Everything changed
You looked at me with disgust-
Like I was **** on legs
'I'm breaking up with you',
You said
'Why', I asked
'You're not perfect, I don't love you'
Hysterical sobs, at the loss of-
What I thought was love
'But I love you!',
I screamed at the closed door,
For you walked out on me
Your previous words meant nothing
I'm not worth loving, why?
The cuts on my thighs?
My eyes full of hurt?
My mouth full of lies?
The pain you caused,
Hurt more than the fresh cuts-
I just made
These were dedicated to you
Etched into my skin,
The perfect reminder of the pain you caused
'I love you' it said,
Used my blood to make-
a small heart on my tear-stained cheek
Then I slashed both wrists
They were dedicated to you
I love you
Hours later, remembering something-
You left
Found me lying there,
With the note cut into my hand,
'I love you' it said
The perfect reminder of the pain you caused
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2018
Shh
Shh.
My ears are exhausted.
Do not say those words.
I turn the music up louder.
Screams fly out like weightless birds.

Lungs fill up with air, still and stale,
They will burst with one more breath,
I sit beside you on my bed and sing.
A desperate song that may be my death.

If you utter the phrase I have been hiding from,
Black magic words spun into a lullaby,
We will both have no choice but to accept..
The love we have been trying to deny.
Shh.
This is an old one. I dont even remember who it is about it is so old.
Sydney Jun 2014
Shh
Finger to her lips
Shh
Under covers
Alone we thought
No more
Dark
Footsteps
Hit hit hit
She was ripped from my arms
Hands legs heart mind
Her mouth said "Its ok"
But her eyes said something else
They never touched me
But I was bruised
Black blue red
Blood dripped from my eyes
Whats the point of having them If
I can't see her
It's been four months since
Her beauty graced my pathetic existence
Her pale skin marked with scars and bite
Marks
I miss her teeth
Her mouth
Blossoming lips
Fingers flat
To her lips
Shh
Think Oct 2014
I must say your conversation is not interesting  . What  do I got to do so we could start kissing. The only thing I want to learn from is your name
The only I want are your lips and hips.
Let's skip this boring introduction . Lets us go to that lonesome chamber the one the service any guest and pretend it’s ours tonight. Let me just feel the weight your body . Place my hand any part you want me to touch you. I never been great in reading people minds .

Sorry sometimes I get so lonely
My mind gets a bit naughty
All I got this lustful love to give
Sometimes I confuse those words .
In my raw desires I hide a long for affection
Don’t blame me if I hug threw the night.


Do you think I'm crazy ? Does my random mutter annoy you ?
why are you teasing me
Why are you keeping mouth silent
Why are you licking you lips like that
why do you keep looking at me with those eyes

She said “shh no more talking”

She was gone before delight
JP Goss May 2014
1
Shh…the rain cooed, calming the flood that rages
Still a concern…or was
Now placed upon the wetted soil
Transfigured, blessed in holy oils scented with cinnamon.
#2
I grasp at the compass that Donne reassured,
Tragic to find it etched in notes
Of the Song of Swans:
It may commune beneath a firmament of birds
Yet, it seems divided in this steely sky—the color of wrathful swords—
I sniff: it smells of cinnamon.
#3
I am drawn by the scented bliss, anointed in general
That is, with the rest,
But somehow, cologned, it’s too sweet, too new
Now a criminal to laws of ancient Hebrew.
To the iron clouds, the necks will bend,
To turn from he who smells of
Cinnamon
That is, with the rest.
#4
Yet, they do not smell
Nor peel back its bark lest it poison the oil
As rain poisons soil,
And ignore, as they do, when rain is to come,
The oil is fragranced evil with cinnamon.
#5
And though I complain, clack to the mud
It, too, smells of cinnamon,
And so we’re the same.
#6
“****” is my cry. “**** them to their hell,”
Burn the concrete buildings, tear away social offal
That, with some entreaty, seems to plague us all! Why so much Injustice?
Who are you? A God? What makes one lump of clay
A clod, the other a home? Upon the heads of refused beings
How do you stand so tall? You can’t lest your empire fails
While the seesaw of suffering hoist up the side of wails
And smoke the vital oxygen,
Scowls, the first impression
Worried not about advancing goals but living day to day,
The things that move metabolisms, world-wide, subject to pay,
Wasting our lives not in 9-to-5s but looking
And failing to find
And toting excess and praising their holders
While blaming the others born from behind
Partitions drawn in world wars started for oil
For money, for wealth, both so glutted and glutting pride a nation wide
While its cells are tinged with cancer,
Both sides of false dichotomy claiming they have the answer, to answer the question
Of recidivism, the poor and they are to live or get along, dangling the carrot so high
It goes above their dreams, and it’s so blurry that it’s hard to tell
What exactly one pursues,
Or race, religion,
Of a woman’s place in the is to see how absurd such a question should be,
Here is a question that seems appropriate: why are differences discouraged,
Who says what is better but the powers that be
Lenses shaped for us to see only those things specifically made
To make the made untouchable,
And they do it, and will not stop, we’re left with no hope
But from where pleasure is wrought: drugs and sedatives that
Blunt the mind that worries, sober, replacing them until they’re over
But without any solution; a bandage to a bandage
Since a sober mind that cognizes problems can’t possibly solve them in the same state
Of mind.
A lust for love with no genuine conception,
*******, deflowering with cold, stony hearts
Fostered in a day and age where manipulation is more inescapable means
And less insidious art,
So broken by our broken dreams and forced to walk without contention
Compromising on who we are
No struggle to help make us strong
A simple shrug to carry on,
While the most powerful blood, the fire in our veins is given, given, given
To those we think we love,
While we sit dreaming and falling in love with love
Always coddling the scars, where the blood and sinew were streaming
Until they are closed and pink, taut and empty like a drum
Still yearning to beat the same rhythm again,
Needing to learn before synchrony may happen
And two drums may beat to the other’s tune,
Feeling some pulse that holds us feet from decay
All the warmth and butterflies
Come in a zephyr smelling of fetid, carrion meat
That makes true affection
Feel like maggots in the skin
And we leave to new horizons, akin in their process:
Where they end, where they begin.
And yet we’re so weak in every regard, being the forge of our own fortress’ petard
Sade-masochists that run, run, run away
Feeling as though we’re cast to sea, waiting for the problem to deal with itself
A shining light house on a miserable horn
Hides by our back, the shore receding out, and even in the darkness
The vastness of the sea, there’s still the light cast ‘cross the sky
With the same, though fleeting, periodicity.
And I can do nothing, least, nothing of worth
Being as I am, a whiny little white boy with middle class struggles,
Well-fed, well-cared for, and some domestic unrest
But I am minor, mediocre at best,
And have never had the muscles, the mettle, put truly to the test.
So I can only complain beneath the anthill of my worries
And all my attempts to make any change are thwarted by my failings, my comfort
My life,
Doing drugs, self-medicating because it’s the best I can come up with
Spiraling beyond uncontrollable until it is no longer
Me whose spinning down to destruction,
That was something of the past
Now, I truly have nothing to grasp
And I kick and I scream and I try and I try and I try
But look in dismay at any hope I may have for people to change, yet their conduct belies
A sense or desire to be anointed enspiced
Since the general oil has seemed to suffice, and that’s not enough, but I just want some change
Some honesty, but I can’t find it, I know not what I feel
All this angst piling up, like a chapter in the life of Holden Caulfield:
He’s my ******* idol since I pressed with all this
Stupidity with no venue but complaints
And this is doing nothing, this ******* poetry, neither solving nor affording comfort
Back to me. It is art and no one cares
It has no voice, save the face-value point
And I want meaning, and so I try to make it knowing full well
The intention is demeaning, but not in my writing
Its filthy fingers touching on everything that I’d like to achieve
Legitimately, but it’s all conditioned
It’s breakdown is imminent  
If only I knew how accept
Oils scented with cinnamon.
I wish I was different, or acted upon it, instead of just ******* in the lines
Of a sonnet,
Or that others may smell of their own fragranced oils
Then trifles, then problems may seem something
Of little toil
But, but, but, where am I to go, where do I begin?
I’ve gone in circles, where I stopped I’ll start again
And I’ll never escape because…
#7
Shh…the rain cooed, calming the flood that rages
Still a concern…or was.
In due time the sun will do as it does:
Show us what is, is soon to be what was.
The nature of me, with little consistency, is grasping for a dawn
I see it coming up
Now that I’ve smelled the breeze
Of cinnamon.
http://neverendingword.com/Never_Ending_Word/The_Holy_Annointing_Oils/Entries/2010/10/18_Sweet_Cinnamon_in_the_Holy_Anointing_Oil.html
Aarya Jan 2014
It's lunch time
And I'm in my math teachers' room
Writing godawful poetry
When I have a math test next period.
Our health class
Just watched a video about cyber-bullying
And the girl forgives her lying backstabbing ***** of a friend
I just called my friend
Who is absent
I called her twice
And she hung up twice
          Sixteen seconds
          Eleven seconds

I'm sitting in the library now
On a circular table
          Table for four.
I am one
But I always sit on a table with empty seats
So that I always know I am alone
This red ink looks darker in this lighting
A much more appealing shade
In comparison to how it looks in my bedroom

I'm thinking that I all I should be doing for the next few years of my life
Is math and music
          More of both

I'm really scared one of my friends will come and sit next to me  
I'm pretending the monsters from Six Skies are there
This might be unhealthy

Some ***** Megan just sat here
           She's not really a *****
But can't she see that my monster friend is angry
Because she just took his ******* seat

Whenever I'm in math class
I always feel like writing poetry
When I am writing poetry
I don't want to do anything else
Math class is over in five minutes
I think I did okay on my test
But Spanish is next
And I know I won't be doing okay there

My stomach feels as if
The acids that are supposed to be breaking down my food
          There is none shh
Are killing the lining of my stomach tissue
I have a self-destructing *****.

Once upon a time
This used to be a math notebook
That's all I ever write about in here
          math.

This is satisfying
My monster friends from Six Skies
           aren't here
           and
           I really wish they were.

I'm sitting encased in a red velvet colored blanket
It's actually my brothers
This is his third blanket
He got it for Christmas
Its his for a while, and then I take it
          even though I already have one of my own
So I guess he'll be getting a new one soon

The monsters from Six Skies
           are here
           watching me
           protecting me
I quite like their company
I don't want them to leave
           even at school
It's not a metaphor
But then again some days I look at myself in the mirror from several different angles of view
More satisfying than I'd imagined.

I forgive everyone for everything
             and I don't angry
Before it was anger and unforgiveness
Slowly I realized feelings like these
            were just too unnecessary for me
I think I do too many unnecessary things things like that
And I want to cut all of it up
I like basic
But I also like intricate

I have been writing poetry
           for three years.
           since I was in the sixth grade
They all used to rhyme
And my parents would be proud
Because I was proud
           as I grinned while I read them to them
And they were proud because it was about things
            like sunshine
I wonder if they would be proud now
Because I never even show them
And the only time I write about sunshine
            Is when something else is eating it away.
The children they run, jump through the Sun,
...scream at the Horse for nary the fun.

What have you seen? What do you believe?
Did you get burnt on St. John's Eve?

Which day is it? Oh what the time?
Who be the meaning of old fabled rhyme?

Can you see stars? Oh great the heavens...
...can you see stars, so great the heavens?
Can you see stars? Oh great the heavens...
...can you see stars, so great the heavens?

Shh, here she comes, break black -the night!
...washed away the horse with infernal delight!

One is left ******, burnt, torn, pieces broken,
..and Momma, please Pappa; one's life merely token.

The children they run, jump through the Sun,
...ritual of the fear, for New Age begun.

Can you see stars? Oh great the heavens...
...can you see stars, so great the heavens?
Can you see stars? Oh great the heavens...
...can you see stars, so great the heavens?
The ritual of the May, the Spring, May-Queen, Beltis and Bacchus as Beltane for both are one; two sides. The Catholic Church folded mythology into it's own canon by deifying Celtic, Greek, Norse and Roman gods. St. John's Eve is the ritual of Bacchus. In this ritual a fire pit is made and children jump through the flames; pass through the fire of the Sun. They do this while fleeing the two men dressed up as a white horse; the Pale Rider which is the Moon. Enacting the two sides of Janus; all coins have on their face an image of the sun god or sun king and an image on the obverse of a horse or horse's head. The moon has three faces that can be seen by the naked eye and if you look at it you will see one of them appears to be grey spots that form a horse's head. They are chased by the moon and saved by the sun but one is caught and torn apart the way Bacchus was killed. In the longer form one constellation character is, "caught," each Spring as the Age of Precession and once every 2,160 years a new one is, "saved," by the Sun passing through him.
Robin Carretti May 2018
So grace me through
my colors
Let's Start

God Grace me

Someone was smart
To raise me
But the blaze
came and love
pursued me
He pushed me
Into his hot blaze

His ***** of fire
A big part of the script
Another lift in his
desire
But my lips
Got raised up
But couldn't.sustain
the fire
The glossy shimmer
Sky hug
He Aint nothing but
a hound dog goodbye
Raised me Orange
Red Robin fly

But how you
face me
Never to
disgrace me

You pick me up with
all my goods
Odds with the bad
Honorable Gods
And so many facets
of my moods
Watch out!!
Starburst

Or a war curse

We  evaporate
In fragments

Orange segments
Sliced and eaten

Love forbidden fruit
One hidden

Embrace the warm solitude

all over your face,
Someone is rude
Fresh Orange
told you
It's Fate

That brought us
together
Orange juicier sun

So many love forms
Whose terms? Just run
This world full of
germs
But to juice things up


How the colors of your
eyes came to an epical stop

But nursed me
orange juice hip hop

He dazed into me
After-life
They named her
Saucy before-life
See ablaze
orange zest
See me and fly me
At my very best

My breast was
so nicely raised


Lips so fruitful
he cannot
resist you know
the rest??

In the mix of orange
things
Pink rings
Butterfly eyes
winged

Was set so privately-----*

The red tail hawk
Was the talk of the 
 Orangey words flowy
Popsicle poppy eye town
No time to refresh
my colors

Free bird orange up
The ramp no lady
and tramps
Just (Gypsies Orange Vamp)
The rocks fall to thump
Trump orange fixtures
Towers Forestal Gump

The soothing smile of lights
He came to you pop features
All over my place
So cultural to the race
The colors of
Orange mellow
oh! no
Here comes yellow----

Creaming into his
creamsicle
Gelato
popsicle
My feeling divided
like politics

Been sliced by
the orange Super bowl
Erotics
Sunny California Kist
Rodeo drive what a
list
Satanic red
Orange Christ
But that orange
She Shh_ sheets
Had the most vibrant
juicy beats
Tomato vines Rome
Lend me your orange
No ears no other
color of tears

Villians of vineyards
Orange bowl of fruit
No Junkyards
The owl started to hoot
Towards the bad apple

My heart was galloping
Shrimp and scallop
Right in my western charm
boot he takes off

Another mix of paint
Orange isn't carrots and
pumpkins
Austin Power Mini-me
Munchkins

Or goblins spooked
Mandarin Orange lovely
Divinely licked
Gingerly lovely Cayenne
Sweet Pepper he looked at her
Lucky 7 Orange ring karat

Whats up Doc
_


Any cracks of his cravat
Orange Key-West lock
Doesn't turn get off
my block
I am going to
Bangkok
With Chuck

Having Orange Tang
He was holding me
777 karat ring
The  Mediterranian
party
Why so dead sea
Pink Smarty
Orange blosson tea
Orange Marquis
Louis and Diamonds
All clockwork
Orange movies

In the lounge of
Raymonds of ring
junkies
Pour OJ for me
**** a doodle doo

Flash of orange came at me
Do you want to?

The operation of heartless
surgery
The Showstopper emergency
Revived refreshing lady
of purity but no orange
The
((Orange Marquis))
Off to see the Wizardly
Orange field gorgeous
WC fields raise

Writer with the
lucky pen praise
Her editor was
the perfect color
ten

Miss coralline with
her coral rock
The mixed infusion

Next color comes up
Raise your brow reaction

Needing a follow-up

Orange rinds
Another call-up
Giddy Apps up
Orange glittering
passion fruit
paintbrush
Soap Opera beauty
and the beast
Another gulp the
pulp pretty in pink
psst
_

Orange-pink tropical
girl orange whirl
The orange-red ringlets
She curled inside him
Glass raise you cup trim
In your villa stucco orange
You were breastfeeding
his orange suited juice

No time to see another
color
Orangey wiz showbiz
Arabian sky sunset
burnt orange
The caramel bump
of the camel
Her favorite one
mural

Lips of tang so foreign
She is flaming like a
flamingo bed

Get his color out of
Cotton picking head
Your shampoo
The
"Orange Oddysey"

Hey, what do you say?

Just open your
eyeshadows
He shadows her in

Or a site for sore eyes got
puffy war of
orange bubbles begin

Feather me
orange wings
The fringe orange
suede
flops
you happy

The A+ diet of fruit
he was the
hotshot
Glass
You're at the
bake me
What do you know
he passed

The spa refreshing
orange peel
mystique

Long lace-lit
Unique
He was coming on too
bossy orangey burst
cheeks were falling
Rise up not down
Orange Julius raise
his price
Fed Ex orange truck
got closer to
Her alluring butterfly
Orange U glad
To catch her
To court her
Fast Orange perfume
She Sha shala
femme
Orange flames came
from his cleft

Still no time for your
spouse whoa he left
_

Now please let me know

what I left out
Orange you glad

this is the only color love
him madly
Orange so vibrant masterpiece the butterfly changes
like a wedding centerpiece
Sky Apr 2016
Shh! Don’t tell!
I am melancholy
As the day weighs down my brain
And I yearn to sleep, to forget
Shh! Don’t tell!
I’m still sad, do you see it?
I hide shadows just beneath my eyelids,
I hide tears behind my teeth
Shh! Don’t tell!
I still get so melancholy
Even though I thought the darkness was gone
But there will always be a shadow here, I suppose
Shh! Don’t tell!
Well, they wonder why I cut
They wonder why I don’t cry
Well, maybe I’d rather feel pain than die
And maybe it hurts too much to cry
Yes, I know, that makes no sense
But I’m clearly not quite right in the head
Don’t tell my soul, don’t tell my heart
Don’t tell them I still may fall apart
I’m not dying, I’m not giving up
I’m just a little melancholy
In the morning, I’ll be okay,
I hope.
bri mylyn Mar 2014
you love him
you love his smooth hands and his rough cheek
you love your hands in his denim shirt
and the cinematography of you together
everything else is an afterthought

the knife in his eyes that is not always pointed at you
but when it is
you kiss the fist that rattles plates
the lips that wrap around clenched teeth
melt him

fail to understand his poison tipped arrows
that are aimed at the mother who threw bottles
if he could only pick one more fight it'd be with his father
you kiss him when he knocks his brother's teeth out

he leaves in the morning for coffee and comes back a day later
welcome him with open arms and abundant questions
he will be a tower of irritation and concrete
he will point fingers that will curl into fists
but they are not fists for you
they are for the devils that dance within him
and behind his wild eyes
and in his childhood home

you will not be fooled
he loves you
you know by every sweetheart and the lips on your forehead and the way he smells in between the sheets each night

he leaves
he comes back
purple flowers that bloom around his eyes are the bouquets he brings home for you
the front porch sags when he puts his hands in his pockets
his face buried in your chest
on nights when the lamp swings a little too low
and his body is wracked with sobbing and shoulders shaking

he mourns the gentle temper he never had
he mourns what he would be like without you
he mourns what you would be like without him
this is how he loves you

your hands in his hair easing soothing shh shh
you are the mother who left
you are better than every last ex-girlfriend
for reasons he will be happy to name
this is how you love him

you came because you are drawn to the shipwrecks
but you stayed in the water for him
ancient child
furious soul
you salt his wounds
and then you clean them
this is how you love him
Little Wing Jul 2012
Well sir !
Today we have, the usual, suicidal ******, paranoid drug addicts, skitzophrenic ******* that'll slice your neck open in a split second.
All the things you'd find in a mental institution.
Theres no place like home !
Walking these halls in my robe, and slippers.
You see darling, im not insane, they just think i am because well, im all of the above, ahahaha.
I didnt mean to **** that boy.
But ! He did say he loved me.
Who the **** would say that.
Filthy little liars.
He made it so ******* easy though.
But i did mean to **** him.
I didnt.
I did.
I didnt.
I did.
YOU'LL NEVER ******* KNOW.
There was this one day, they locked me up so tight, it left bruises on my ****** skin.
Oh **** !
Shh.
Shh.
Shh.
Do you hear that ?
What did the second one say ?
Well ******* too Elvis !
He wishes.
Ah, ****.
Scars are showing again.
Oooh,theres a mirror in this room.
smash.
''Nurse !, Lunas done it again !''
****** Luna they called me in school.
But i killed them too.
Anyway, i sat there with a broken piece of mirror in my hands and carved pretty little pictures into myself.
But, i needed stitches.
Yay the doctor !
He makes me feel good, inside.
Probably because he ***** me so hard it leaves me pleasure until the next time i break a mirror.
He's older.
42 to be exact.
Im 15.
Isnt it cute.
His wife doesnt know.
Or his daughter, i went to school with that dog.
She was the first one i got rid of.
Cheerio.
Christopher Lowe Jan 2016
Shh
Greatness
Spoken of in silence
Hushed kindness

Turmoil
Yelled through gritted teeth
Bombastic trivialties
Noel Billiter Mar 2018
I got a ruby secret
I keep it in my pocket
Only Zulu knows about it
So I put him in a prison
He thinks he's getting out soon
But he doesn't have a clue
He's just a little rodent
But he thinks he's a Raven!
He's in love with a prophet
So now he's on a conquest
But I planned his execution
He doesn't know know about it
He's always getting roasted
Thinks he's a stallion
He's really just a rodent
But he knows my little secret
I tried to sew his mouth shut
But he had an objection!
Thinks he's the president
Shh.. "He's really just a rodent"
I gave him a promotion...
So now he is my magician
He just keeps on escaping
He's drunk again, talking ****
Hey Zulu! Where are you running to?
Everybody is looking for you!

— The End —