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I don't know
which way to go.
I'm blinded by
the tears in my eyes,
and numb
to the way I feel inside,
but baby,
at least the bottle's dry


She fell and broke her life
People rushed to help
It was touch and go for a time
The surgeon had to amputate
But he was finally removed
The recovery was long
Sometimes she felt he was still there
Touching her inside
Messing with her head
They said this would happen
Such intensity is bound to leave scars
But they would heal
Someday another would come along
She would be stronger.


Dare I speak hope and light in a world that's darker than night?

Political agendas coming at us from the left and right,

and we the people stuck in the middle, tired of playing fiddle.

History will be made by the ones they call little.

We're smarter than they think see the math is easy,

They trying to divide but we rather multiply the answer equals unity

All it takes is you and me.

I'm no poet I just use my words to spread truth.

Revolutionary thoughts and I'll leave a trail that leads to the top of the mountain that Martin saw.

When you passionate you can't lose, they try to brainwash us with the news,

but our guidance is coming from a higher power

been waiting all this time and we finally reached the hour.

Ig: @voicesinthewild

It may take only a few seconds
to hurt someone that you love
but it may take a lot of years
to heal this pain.

Like most things that live
I need the sun to caress my skin
for the wind to paint an echo
of my skull
for the rain to wash away the ashes
that I hold in my hand like gold dust, as if my appetite for destruction went deeper than an impulsive slash of flesh
I am waiting for the snow, for the purifying whiteness of angels
to lick my wounds, to freeze the ground I thought held my foundations firmly
Oh, how to be deceived by the seasons.

Sara Jones

Maybe one day soon,
I will cut my wrists wide open,
And find flowers growing in my veins.
Taking root deep within my heart,
Branching outward, trying to gouge out my eyes,
Curling around my eardrums,
Around my spine.
Blossoming in my temples,
And in my fingers.
Stems wrapping around my throat,
Making it hard to breathe.

With fuzzy vision, choking breathes, trembling hands,
Maybe i can manage to cut them out.
Carve up my hands until i can reach inside and rip them out.
Dig into my chest and tear them from the roots.
Maybe i can stop the pulsating, as the flowers try to make me beautiful
Try and make me like them
Try and kill me
Like we try to kill them

shanika yrs

We are lost in unknown space
she shredding tears
and my heart cries so brutally
we are stuck
sometime it feels it is a dead end
or an endless pit
I am stuck
someone help me out
to stop the time
please I am begging
just before I die
stop the time
for the sake
of bloody god


i seldom slept.

in my solitude, the mask gingerly slips from my hopeless expression. it cascades to the ground with an aristocratic grace; beautifully meandering towards its demise. it is in this frail slice of time, that i can be still in the silence of my mind.

in that liminal consciousness in my screeching silence, the balance shifts and i am consumed. in an instant i am overwhelmed with the blaring monotonous buzz of panic and dread.

fear wakes erratically from its slumber; zealously drilling anxiety deep into my veins. i am barricaded by the doubt and confusion hysterically racing through my mind.

is this mind still mine?

and i wake from tormented sleep.

questions remain faithfully unanswered, and i am left to polish the broken scraps of my facade. who am i? i guess its easy to put a mask on a blank face.

John Reilly

Follow the colored lines
down the corridors
one by one
they diverge
abrupt right angles
a sharp turn
into acute psychiatry
a long gentle curve
into imagery
we've seen before
we've been here before
this time is different
and the same
old places
and brand new
parallel worlds
perpendicular paths
follow the lines
of this
hurtling us down the halls
through the partitions
particles collide
and time stands still
which path do we follow
to bring us back
to the beginning
a whole universe
of possibilities

sad depression hospital mental health  anxiety emotion hope catharsis
Ellie Geneve

But compromise, felt a lot like human sacrifice
I lost myself
To be with you

Thomas P Owens Sr

when the time comes for me to pass
they shall lay me neath the shadow cast
by the great oak standing silent, true
watching over me
and you
when light wind blows
in sunlight's trance
I hear your whispers
through leaves they dance
I take your hand
o'er the fields we stroll
your head on my shoulder
as the church bell toll

in the mood for something a bit less dark

It's blue
It's green
It's Yellow
It's white

It's black
It's grey
It's fluorescent
It's bright.


like blood

Is the color of love.


she stands startled
from the blow of feelings
that hit her

this man

this person

a simple living soul
has helped her discover
the beauty of just

she feels a thrill
at waking
a comfort
that cradles her
as she drifts to sleep

her days are long
but filled with an anticipation
of more

the pores
of the universe
burst in exclamations
of joy

smiling is
a permanent grin
plastered to her face

the skip in her step
in not imagined


has found her

and the suffocating passion
she clings to
will be her

The Fire Burns

In this life there is rhythm and blues
every body has to pay their dues,
so find your solace where you can,
Cause in then end, your just human.

Shotgun blast from the speakers,
the bass hits hard this song a keeper
guitar and drums lay out a groove,
lets everyone get up and move.

Harmonica starts sounding, like a train,
clack, clack, of tracks and whistle insane
music and tunes, in my simple brain
rhythm and flow keeps me sane.

The spark of my engine plugs
start a never ending feed
booze, meds, and drugs
not just a bit always exceed.

Shotgun blast from the speakers,
the bass hits hard this song a keeper
guitar and drums lay out a groove,
lets everyone get up and move.

Sex and lies as the music plays
in one place I never stay
riding on Ozzy's train, crazee,
I got problems just like Jay-z.

Shotgun blast from the speakers,
the bass hits hard this song a keeper
guitar and drums lay out a groove,
lets everyone get up and move.

A collaboration with Temporal Fugue

my mind so chaotic, insane and out of mind,
i'd have been rejected by 13 different mental asylums.

Emb        race,
           Gul                ping        
   Poi                      son
  And                 Slit
-ting         My

Poetry written in the shape or form of an object. This is a type of concrete poetry.

How have you been lately?
The poo of the pooh'
Don't you just give me
an 'okay' or a 'Fine'
For I wonder..
Are we even ever das ?
Fine as the chiffon-cotton balls..
gliding through the blues.
Or like the waves somersaulting over the shores.
Or like these...
tinkling rythms..
Oh! The ether hasnot stopped pouring
for days and days now
and You might have abhored the moon so far..
but | DON'T |

Oh ! Ruler of the sad sad sea.
Calmest of them all.
Don’t be sorry.
Don’t you be sad.
you are nowhere near the blameworthy .
Oh ! Guiltless listener .
Sweet sinner.
You should nowhere be near this cyclone :
such abrupt but obvious..
This self-forge crater.

That is why
An enforced hiatus is must

Shifting random mind positions
Carving steps out of de' labyrinth.
Away and away
Must I
Oh! Dark matter
I must .

Blindly Certain

I'm a no one;
Just a stranger that happened to pass by,
Who made a silly mistake,
Yet you talked like we were meant to.

Just a peculiar case;
Talking random things,
That seem to mean nothing,
Yet made its way to be remembered.

A cathartic mess;
Leaving a note that said I'll leave,
Trying to forget how much it'd hurt;
You told me to come back.

Words that made me hold on,
Coming from the most unexpected person;

Dancing with what you've said,
Somehow excruciatingly sweet;

Exhausted with nothing more to say,
Though wanting to talk;
Cold coffee.

I miss you

Even if I know you don't remember me
Claire Elizabeth

Things that nobody talks about:
The desperation of loving someone who doesn't love you
How the sun feels warmer when you've spent a year being cold
The feeling of weightlessness after crying yourself to sleep
When he stares long and hard at you and smiles softly, making your eyes feel shy even when you are not
How people who used to exist in your orbit still take chunks off of your surface, even when you've taken so many hits you hardly exist.

Things that nobody talks about:
Even when you've moved on, even when you've found someone who loves you more, even when you've discovered better things, your skin remembers things best forgotten.

Leiser Poetry

The world is a distorted mirror
that reflects your desires
but deceives
turning you into the madness
of keeping
yourself sane.

People calling out your name
as you fall into trees
you feel your legs
brittle and body snap
apart from the strain.  

You revolve through
constant cycle of doors:
You hear the hiss of snakes
the sharpening of blades:
leading to the destination
of nowhere pictured before
that very dark and light
abyss from where you came.

Akira Chinen

Never lie to the same poem twice
save it for the next one
or better yet don't tell it at all
for a lie no matter how beautiful
it may sound
or sweet it may taste rolling off
the tongue
will always leave behind a sour smell
to linger in the mouth
of the past and present
and more often than not
carry knives into the future

Never kiss a new lover
with an old prayer on your lips
it will not bloom
to love or lust
only heartache and embarrassment
be alone and lonely and miserable
until there is no stain or trace
of old fire burning
or cinders glowing
or ashes still smoldering
forming the face and the name
that no longer cares for your prayers

Never tell the truth to a kiss
that whispers only lies
when speaking of love
and dances with serpents
that tend to planting seeds
of venom and lust
in the skin and the core
of pleasure that will
only wither and rot on the vine
only kiss the love
that whispers in dreams
that only speak the truth


Fall in love with her;
realise you’re never good enough for her,
watch her through the lens of friendship
and savour the way she says “I love you” –
think things you shouldn’t,
know that she won’t love you in the way you love her,
cry, kill yourself, cry;
this is suicide.

Gunshot wound to the head.
Leave a circus for the people who will find you;
let them understand the empty bottle of whiskey and the high pile of suicide notes to those whom you love,
let them shed TV tears over the fact that you never let them in
because it’s your fault –
you never let them in.

Listen to sad music.
Think of the pills on your desk,
how they wouldn’t be enough for an overdose,
you know,
but maybe they’d be enough to make you vomit and get attention.

Slit your wrists.
Down, not across,
straight razor, steady hand, right wrist first,
like you’ve planned this,
like you had her face in your mind as you bled out,
like you imagined you died saving someone’s life,
like you saved someone’s life.

Learn to hate yourself.
Learn to run your hands over your body and wish it wasn’t there;
learn to fantasize about being an angel without a physical form,
learn to want to watch over the girl you love.
If you learn to hate yourself,
it’ll be easier to finish this poem,
it’ll be easier to read the book of the ‘Methods of Suicide’.

And when you finish it –
your life, the journal-book of your weary travels,
put it all down to experience,
and think that maybe, some people aren’t born to love themselves.
Then put down the book, and pick up the gun,
and let me finish this stanza already.

Don’t forget to write ‘The End’.

Scout Pilgrim

The harder you try to pull away,
the tighter I squeeze,
and I swear I don't mean to come off too strong,
but a history of abandonment
and fizzling potential
has left me with constrictor instincts

guess how fucking old this is lmfao

Love cannot be pictured
or imagined,
there are no wispy flowers
or cranberry shades of red.
Love can't be written or tasted,
but if you were to touch my chest
with the tip of your index finger
and feel the blood pumping
to and from my heart,
beating hard with anticipation
and empathy,
if you were to touch
my heated neck
with the palm of your hand
and my quivering fat bottom lip,
then maybe you'd be touching love.
I don't need anything from you
to fall for you.
I don't need your time
or your number,
and I don't need your heart;
mine can beat strong enough
for the both of us.

Laurel Leaves

Couldn't love me
When my body dripped
The blood soaked through the floor boards
Picturing the seconds when they strip me
Bite the tips of my toes
As they beg for the pain
To pull out my eyes

I don't scream loud enough
I dont fight tough enough
I dont lay complacent

The agitation
How they rise
How they devour

I drip I sting
My venom
Doesn't even drop them
To their knees.


I tore down every bridge,
and every wall to let you in.

I dried lakes, rivers, oceans,
to save you from drowning.

I found myself,
draining in weakness to strengthen you.

You became powerful, you became immortal,
you became my god.

Now I clench onto this sadness of mine.
The loneliness you left behind.

Its the only thing that reminds me,
our story was once alive.

Its my safe place.
When you're gone,

and I need a muse to help
bleed all this pain out.

Like tonight,
when writing about the moon,
can no longer help me survive.


To Drew..
B Young

They keep calling me an underachiever.
I don’t understand is this all a contest. What is there to achieve?

There is no hope for you
little girl little girl
You drive too fast up north
little girl little girl
You are running from mediocrity
little girl small girl
You  fill your lungs and heart with poison
little girl little girl
I refuse to watch the streets take you
darling girl
sweet girl
Be beautiful forever
There is hope for you
my girl my girl
Drag yourself from your demons
my girl my girl
with the world my girl
Don’t turn blue on me ever again
dancing girl dancing girl
See the world through the songs of redemption
and recovery,
Dancing girl
Be still
Be free


It hurts

To get mere sayings from you

While knowing you are poet

But your vivid language was spent for her

It hurts

To be aware how amazing you're in love

After cognizing  your sentiments

Better I wouldn't know

Better I would still take you for another sort

At least I was honored to be guest of that heart for a moment...

For the one who seems merely happy-go-lucky for everyone

A broken jar
I fixed when fell
From a far
No one can tell

A broken heart
I tried to fix
But part by part
It all got mixed

A birds feather
I tried to catch
It blew off further
In the thorn patch

A child's cry
Weakened my soul
I went close by
His leg stuck in a hole

A set of painful eyes
Watched me through
An angel in disguise
Yes, that's true

I am quite broken
But I am strong
I am not a token
Don't take me wrong

My love is in my smile
Like a tombstone on a grave
I think for a short while
Then just smile and wave...


Smile, even when you think your life is sinking.

you have learned
that the world is
not as forgiving
and kind as what
you have thought
it to be,
and so,
you have learned
to not trust
anyone easily
and to be harsh
on yourself,
but dear,
don't let the
world take away
the softness and
kindness you
have in you—
do not let
the world steal
your sweetness.

Stu Harley

an hourglass
with men
who ruled
time again

Nat Lipstadt

Yo! Yo! My Drug of Choice (Damn Poets)

Yo! Yo!
Member of the troupe?
You up all nite?
You always hungry,
Making trouble, rite?
You one of those?

Damn poets!

Exist on strict diet?
Constant-continual surges
Turn into urges,
Full-time suspense,
Juices always flowing.

Damn Poets!

Yo! Yo!
You one of those?
Never knowing,
What? When?
The eyes gonna invert
Retina images into words
Brain signaling, semaphoring the fingers
Yo! Yo!
You don't get nine months,
Maybe nine seconds,
Then mother-birth another verse,
Damned poets!

Yo! Yo!
Remember your first real high,
That moment
No absolution, no return.
That moment
When you admitted, confessed,
to yourself:

I am
Forever forward,
A home-grown poet.
I am
Soul enslaved to words.
The alphabet - My oxygen molecules,
I am both,
Addict and dealer
A damned poet

Yo! Yo!
So you do recall,
The exact moment,
God-spark-within, ascendancy gained
You lost control,
Wept words instead of tears!
A damned poet junkie!

Yo! Yo!

Sophie's Choice.
You chose writing over breathing,
Worshiper of the purest pleaure,
Sucking in deep the smoke-high of
Head-nodding discontented contentment
Stealing anything you saw
For to satisfy the need, the craven
Damned poets!

Yo! Yo!

Don't you're ever sleep?
Hear that the city, the state,
Gonna methadone your kind
In a special program
Teach you only language to sign.
Damn poets!

I am a damned poet.

The first step taken.
Poetry is my default rest position,

My drug of choice.

June 12, 2013

cherish these flawed ones,
gentle these frail but gritty,
the Lord has tasked them
to be prophets in one tongue untied,
undo the strife of Babel's tongues

It was in Spring when you, a complete stranger, had melted my heart, uttering sweet words to your mother whom you've missed. And I thought how eerie it was that a stranger can easily tug at my heartstrings. I mean... everyone loves their mother. What makes you any different? That remained an enigma to me, but perhaps it was the words you chose that enthralled me.

Still, in Summer, I gave my love to another. That didn't close my doors, though. I still wanted to know you.

Autumn and Winter came. Seasons pass by quickly as I, too, quickly grew fonder of you. I count the leaves fall from the trees just as I count the times you've made me laugh. I watch the snow fall from the sky just as I watch you and realize... I do like you, dear.

A year has passed and I got to know you better. This time in Spring, I started falling for you. You've melted my heart once again when you sang to me. Your voice that holds so much emotion ― how mesmerizing. You never cease to amaze me. And perhaps that's the reason why I was bemused the first time.

Who knew it was the same season when you first knocked on the door of my heart? Now I'm finally letting you in for I know the answer this time ― I do love you, dear.

This time in Summer, I didn't look for another and gave my love to you, wholly. You truly know the way to my heart.

But nothing can compare the love that bloomed in Spring ― the time you had enchanted me with the euphonious voice of yours. Just like how you sang to me, “I'll be the spring to your smiles,” for you are my only spring love.

Seasons change as my feelings grow but our love bloomed in spring.

oh boy
with long hair
and a wild mind
he was always there
never hard to find
he called me lotus flower
always okay,
even if there were stormy showers
and something didn't go my way
i keep listening to his music
in hopes that he wrote it for me
he cured my sick
and set me free

i miss you

Is the way
You fill me
In ways
I didn't know
I was

©LadyofRavenhill 2017

Shine the light of Christ for all to see
Living in love and peace and charity
Spread the good news to every people and land
See the good and the work of human hands
What God can do with and through an open heart
Broken can be made whole ad changes can truly start
Though your heart may be as hard as stone
I pray you remember you are never alone
For we are all children with one Dad
We have a safe haven when things get scary or bad

Written during Adoration at St. Patrick's Catholic Church on Wednesday

Leaping flames and rising fumes
Billowing through shattered panes
Of Mumbai's majestic Taj Hotel,
Choked the helpless inmates
Who knew not why and what
Had caused the terrible blast:
Trapped inside burning rooms,
Scampered and struggled                              in vain
To flee from the spreading flames
And bullets fired from Kasab's

Shocked and stunned,
the whole nation
Watched with horror and bated
On TV screens the terrorists' siege
And the commandos' daring acts
To rescue victims and seize
the fanatics
Who maimed and killed innocent guests
And left painful scars, indelible,
On the minds and hearts
of survivors.
When will the world find strategies
To end this menace of
recurring crimes
And save peace loving people
in  all nations?
        * M.G.N.Murthy
Hyderabad, India.

* Taj Mahal Hotel in  Mumbai was attacked by ten members of Lashkar-e-Taiba on

*Taj Mahal Hotel in Mumbai was attacked by ten members of Lashkar-e-Taiba on 26 Nov 2008. Fire engulfed the Hotel, killing 166 people
* Ajmal Mir Kasab, one of the terrorists was caught by the commandos.

She was the one rose remaining in a garden of stolen flowers.
And just because of her, a bare garden remained beautiful as ever.


A moment cuffs you in the face
like Newton's overstated apple,
and the evening dissolves
into sharp, steady resolve...
You think about the extra drink you should have drunk,
the song you should have sung
and the man whose touch you have so missed...

The Muse had disappeared.
Jerk Muse.

Every time you try to find news you want to vomit,
not just a little, but expel the very core of emptiness out of you,
and you picked a fine time to stop swearing
because there is a man whose feel you have so damn missed...

The stars continue to twinkle across the Northern Sky,  
oblivious to the bouncing of our big Blue Ball,
un-answering dreamful wishes;
though, there are other stars lying closer to your heart,
a fresh start and the barbells below...  
And you realize
life is found in the letting go...

And the Muse reappears, smiles an aching, wondrous, Hello.


would you believe me
if i told you
that you are the universe
in which i live in,
the air in which i breathe,
the land on which i walk?

would you shake your head
in disagreement
if i mentioned how
your smile acts as my sun,
your voice a melody
that lingers in my favourite songs,
your eyes as lambent
as the beautiful
night moon?

would you think of me
in the far future
on quiet evenings by the windowsill
as you reminisce the times
we spent together,
the memories i replay constantly
in my mind,
of days i wish will never die?

would you?

i hope you do.
i hope you do.


A bed in the middle of the room
with blankets scrunched up and
shoved in the corner. Dented
pillows scattered like debris
in a field of destruction.
A man in the mirror with
blood shot eyes surrounded
by dark rings. His hands shaking,
his heart racing, and his head is


'Love is a drug'
it's a bit cliche at this point but its true
not in the sense of addiction or how harmful it can be
but in the sense of its effects
love changes people and it changes each one of us differently
for some, they become suave people with immense charms
for others, they become bumbling awkward masses that are plagued with a mentality and drive that makes them try too hard
it can slow you down
make you hyper aware
fill up every bit of you
from your toes to your hair
Love is a drug
it can make you do or think or say things you never thought you could
it's an oxymoron that turns you into everything you never were
it's every color and sound and feeling; it's everything at once
it's pure, it's evil, it hollows you out as it fills you up and gives the deepest sense of pleasure as it kills you and eats you from the inside out
Love is a beautiful thing, some might say life's greatest creation
maybe this is true, maybe it isn't but be careful
because its beauty makes so shockingly easy to overdose on when you're in it

sometimes love is a science and love songs are the equations
(michigan - brockhampton, bad religion - frank ocean, supermodel - sza)
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