All poems found containing the word like
Tawny Denton "like a drug,"

you are poison;
toxic to
my heart,
deadly to my soul.

You are addicting.
like a drug,
I am hooked
on you.

Annabel Flemate "! No No some one says they will be just like Paul the saint."

It's time to face the facts!
People always paint out a picture of how one is supposed to be.
Some paint a picture of you saying  you will become the next Alexander the Great! No No some one says they will be just like Paul the saint.
Pictures are so pretty but once they start to fade and the colors start to turn to haze there will always be someone to say this painting is awful in many ways!
You see the picture you paint should be of your self not of anyone else for there colors may change to bright not light the way you want them to be.
Be yourself don't paint out a picture they want to see.  Paint the BIG picture it is to be true in your art and in your ways, for you see that is what they call a true masterpiece !!

Amelia Chantarotwong "it looks like you're all alone"

first star out at night,
don't you know it's getting dark?
it looks like you're all alone
to me.
you must know
something
I don't.

JAM "I'm gonna enforce orgasm's like it's the law"

I know a lot of people on this site are against certain types of writing's so I'm just gonna warn you before you scroll, this is dirty. Not trying to offend anyone, but these are the thoughts of an extremely sexual being (me). I'm a very complex individual and have many sides. I'm actually having to pursue another site, cause it's so plain here. Someone said to me in a message, "I'm tired of reading about love and nature" haha, me to. Let's get some diversity going people!

















I'm gonna enforce orgasm's like it's the law
Lets get a lil raw
Marks you left on my back lookin' like I got scratched by a tiger paw,

We can go for a ride and I'll show you somethin' I been writing to this new beat
You get impressed and feel chills all the way down to ya feet
Shortly after that I can see
Me and you gettin' down on the bench seat

Of my '49 chevy truck , we anything, but typical and that's just how we like to fuck
Runnin' amuck in a world full of blind luck

My biggest turn on is the juices I get you to leak
I'm gonna get my burn on and turn up the heat
When I'm done you'll barely be able to speak
Your gonna need to recover baby, just go straight to
sleep

-J.A.M

Joey Molteni "Sometimes it seems like you aren't even trying"

You can't hide those lies behind your eyelids
Shutting them tight so you won't see the world where we live
Trusting yourself to let it loose
Between the work, the love, the life, and the self-abusiveness
Throw up those waking nightmares
As I'm the taste of bile that will always reside there
Just go ahead and face it
Those lies behind your eyes give me no form of entertainment

Sometimes it seems like you aren't even trying
Pain pills down you throat leaves you no room to fly in
Desperation makes you angry
You don't know when your dreams will set you free
This time you're going to go a little too far
From the devils your run from to the drunken dents in your car
But shut those lying eyes
So you'll never see the story end with the way that you die

Carve my charm into your arms.
KC "d resting on a pillow that still smells like you. In one of my favorite places. Its"

My last words should I die tomorrow how I wish.

I'm just tired of feeling so hurt and lonely. The pain is far too much to handle. Depression is something I've struggle with for many years now. My many reasons to live were my family, my friends, but most of all my love. Even with those amazing people in my life the depression always hid underneath. Coming out to Barre its ugly teeth when I was intoxicated or vulnerable. I hurt the women I love most in this world. I can't stand to live with that. I'm tired of the many tears. I'm tired of the heart ache. I'm tired of ruining the good things in my life. Please remember me for the goodness in me and not my evil deeds. Rest assured I'm at peace now. I was rarely at peace alive. I hope everyone's dreams of an afterlife were true. I'd love to see those pearly gates or if what I did sends me to hell so be it. Maybe we are apart of gelatinous cube, one of my favorite ideas. If it wasn't I wouldn't have married it. I will never be entirely sure why you left me Alyssa but I love you and I want you to move on with your life. I was a destructive character in yours and everyone else's life. As you know, you're far better off without me. I made some big changes trying to clean up my act but instead it all just came crashing down. I'm glad I died still married to you cause that is how I would choose to go. Having had a loving wife who cared for me deeply. I'm wrapped in your favorite blanket, my head resting on a pillow that still smells like you. In one of my favorite places. Its a frequent of ours when we were stupid kids and we'd sneak out together. Little did I know she was my future wife. I just knew that I adored you. I'm holding the book of poetry you wrote me. I'd like to be barried with it unless Alyssa wants it. She can have anything she wants. You always were a sucker for a poet and I hate that you fell for cheap words when I would of bled right infront of you. You'll find a man with far less flaws and he'll sweep you off your feet. He'll treat you well and wont taint the memories like I did. When you broke up with me the first time. I cried harder then I had ever cried over a girl. You've found another poet in your life. This time when he dies or breaks your heart I wont be there to take you back. You were always my dream girl. My sweet love. My love was my name for you because you embodied every wish I ever sent to the universe. I just had some issues that we couldn't fix. So just hate me and move on. I know this will only push you further into the arms of another man. You were already there when you left though. I also want everyone to know that I want Alyssa to have all my belongings. She knows me better then anyone and she can burn it if she wants. I want her to have my life insurance money also. Please buy yourself something nice. I'm in the same place, in the same car looking over the beautiful lake remembering my perfect moments. When I still made you happy. I remember getting you to fall for me. I will never forget that unique connection we shared. We had so much in common. Our playful nature. The books we loved. The music we adored. How I fell inlove with your brothers. How I had to convince you Jacob was the greatest guy in the world and pushing you to make amends with Gille. I always tried to push you to better yourself and situations. I was off mark sometimes but Gille's your best friend now. You've come to realize how Jacob is an endless friend, a companion til the end. You were blind to so many gifts you were givin from birth. If there was any gift I could have givin you. It was to make you realize what you have. So go find someone better then me, don't ever settle for less then perfect or I'll haunt your sex life. They built a statue of us and put it on a mountain top. I want you to know I was endlessly lusting over you. When you thought the passion died. It was because I forgot what to do. I just needed a little guidance.

Yesterday brought me Tomorrow;
Tomorrow lacking Nothing-
Nothing and everything...

hahaha I just realized off mark

Erich Hunisch "like birds do soar, so does love."

It doesn't hurt to bleed,
it isn't bad to hurt.
whether we ascend into the sky,
our bodies buried dirt.

the stitching and the staples,
reunion of the skin,
the pain you suffer
doesn't matter,
til the wounds will bleed again.

the mouth of every river, continuous aflow
only break the rushing rapid water
when dams direct them where to go.

flow the water freely,
whip the wind about the air.
fire burn and earth stand solid.
transpose yourself with care.

as solid as a statue,
as crumbled as our state,
to truly build,
united strong,
a heart will find it's mate.

so take the chances, joy is free,
the question is
does it return to thee?

on eagles wings, or bleeding dove,
like birds do soar, so does love.

Kaila George "What is it like to cut?"

I look at my wrists

And wonder

What is it like to cut?

Why would anyone

Want to cut them self’s

I can understand the pain

I can understand the anguish

Quite a few times I wanted to end my life

But why for the life of me I cannot understand

Why why….would you want to cut yourself

This is a requiring question that seems to be ongoing

Just baffles me why you would want to even cut yourself with a knife

Sigh…I look at my wrists in dismay…it would be horrible to be disfigured

I would regret for the rest of my life what I have done out of remorse

I just don’t understand…really I don’t…shot me if you must…what ever you want

Just please I ask you from one human being to another stop your cuttings

It just kills your living soul

I have memories that I would like to gouge out of my soul

But I have to live with them for the rest of my life

So don’t tell me I don’t know what I am talking about

It’s an ongoing battle and damn it I’m still here

I will always be a part of me, pain….misery…fear

But hell at least I bloody faced it, accepted it, it’s just there

Sad to say it’s a part of fucken life…sigh

Sorry excuse my profanity just then

Just so passionate about being human

And wanting to live my life

©Kaila George2013

Kaila George "So I would like to say thank you once again"

My heart is heavy with grief
It’s been exactly five years today
Since my mother’s death
Every time I remember that day
It makes me want to cry
My father was devastated
When he saw his wife on the ground
My sisters crying as they gathered around
I could not, would not cry at her grave
It was bad enough she was gone from my life
It was bad enough I would no longer be a part of her life
It was bad enough that I disconnected from life
Only thing kept me going
Was being with my poet friends
So I would like to say thank you once again

©Kaila George 2013

Bleeding Rainbow "like the landscape of hot wet garbage"

.






It was a demon's night,
traveling alone in Cindar forest;
the wind pushes me forth
and steers me into madness.
Gripping at grooves in scarred bark,
my balance is constantly steadied;
my sanity constantly endangered
breaks at the seams for a swift escape.

Thrown about the foot trail,
bones broken with bleeding clumps of muscle,
in shock, resemble that of human
and little skeletons of hunted beasts.
My name is Francois Martyr,
a true monk employed by Christ's church.
Though the name does not interpret my resolve,
I shall not want, nor desire,
to accompany the souls of our deceased!

Reporting, now in the third month
of my extended travel in Germany's ranges,
feeble stories of the invention, Lycan.
Evidence acquired in short tales,
birthed from the touched tongue of the poor,
speaks of fanged savages evolved from man.

I, Francois Martyr, can assist
the church's needs in evidence of my own
having never suffered my eyes
to be that in nature of failing.
Deep within this enchanted wood,
wind filters out yonder screams
that seem to derive from cliffs that tower,
descending me into a darkened void that's terrifying.


My once sharpened mind
was once notable in reason,
always employing the rational narrative.
I fear the fisher
has become the shadow target.
In what realm of God should I deserve this?

The air is of great thickness in muggy mephitis,
clinging on my loose trails of cloth, soiled.
The stewy broth of sweat, death, and wrath
permeates a, now, threatened heartland.
Millions of full moons wane and wax
in the reflections of forest blood splatter,
like the landscape of hot wet garbage
primed in yellow, olive-green rigor, fanned.

A formidable spectacle in form,
silhouetted by the expanse of cerulean space,
with the threat now real; becoming surreal,
I am left with that, which corrupts my faith.
The putrid rot of congealed pus and blood
revealed itself in the chewing dissolve
of the menacing monster perverting
life's natural design, before me, in its voracious state.

I write with danger looming in my sight,
watching, waiting for something to ensue,
passing out deep breaths to the unseen mosquito;
echoes of bones breaking like snapped branches horrify.
How impressive of such imposing display
that this creature feared is of this world;
alien in disguise, damned by God himself,
coat of hair, bristled and black, matted in grand supply!

The creature has applied fell eyes upon me,
seemingly wary of the cross I bear,
with eyes rent and fired in their sockets;
a profane mastery of evil incarnate!
This death dealer of a life discarded
has attended a baying at the Hunter's moon,
dripping, spitting, shape-shifting from wolf to man;
Wait, he has seen my face!
I have been sentenced to my mistake!

The man, from wolf, drilled his stare
and upon my presence, growled the words to John 14:6








-Mark Lach

I was pretty sick for a few weeks when I read this poem, and it cuts off a little early, but if you would like to hear me read this to you, copy the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoQRkCZ4BZ8

John 14:6=  “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."
 
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