I feel the labored breath of the world
the unceasing battery
the shards of frigid breath
the dark, pregnant clouds that fill
the pallet of the sky
Gaian forces are besieging our hallowed, hollowed, bastions of culture
the persistent scraping of our walls
the pre-disposed prophecy of sand
life given over to the evergreen
the phoenix must burn
and that is the way
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 8:42 PM UTC
to say I am lost would be to imply that, at one point, I was present.
My presence was ignored from the time I crawled the floors,
feelings inside transformed into sores
boring onto my soul scars.
My father, my guide, idolised in mind.
when eyes open and you find monsters, sponsors of crime
doing time for a dime?
I am lost
rather never found, no guide by my side,
going with the tide, building walls, to keep the feelings back,
that torment my mind.
The forges of feelings foundries have gone cold, Shut away
barricaded
with un-shaken walls.
So I wander, in search of myself,
I wonder
if I’ll be found or
if I’m bound for a battery of uncertainatity:
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 8:39 PM UTC
I squander my time
I wander and wind between pillars of despair in my mind
crawling my way through mazes of “Phases” in my mind
trying my best to find out what it means to be normal.
I hear that storm calling out all the time
thunderclouds battering,
the darkness that rolls on all sides.
My smiles go with the tides
Who is it that deicides that I feel this way?
Who is it that decides the worth of my life?
who is it that decides I should feel this pain,
behave astray or be taken away
from my mum: I was young.
I don’t have the capacity to be okay,
I don’t have the power to end my days
let go of my pain.
why can’t I be like them?
why can’t I think about cars and tv?
why do I think of stars, poetry
or the feel of wet grass beneath my feet?
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 8:34 PM UTC
I have nothing to write
I am Empty inside.
Unsure if I have been robbed by medication or maturation
or perhaps emotional numbness has caused this.
I do not see the seasons change or the flowers bloom and die.
I see dead leaves, polluted skies.
oppressed peoples, blind eyes.
My empathy has been sapped from me by many years of life.
I am reminded constantly that I’m powerless
to aid them in their strife
women, men and children suffering through life
but someone is helping them, probably, and that’s nice.
then life goes on
again and
tomorrow I am told
suffering exists, numbness is bliss. please return to your clockwork life
Yours’s sincerely Head manager Mrs...
Nov 14, 2021
Nov 14, 2021 at 6:16 PM UTC
I WANT TO LIVE!
I want to die
I WANT TO DIE
I WANT TO LIVE
honestly though; I just want to be okay
Aug 17, 2020
Aug 17, 2020 at 7:05 PM UTC
I met today the daughter of a diplomat
her face was framed in such a way
that I found it hard to stay my gaze.
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 3:54 PM UTC
a poet who can't write
a dog that won't bite
a hill that can't climb
a clock with no time
an ist with no ism
undead but not risen
an endless schism
of self sedition and indecision
a two headed coin
a completely missed point
a light in the void
a limbless joint
Bo-Peep with no sheep
the shallowest deep
an unsailed sea
of dreamless sleep
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 7:37 PM UTC
Besides the screams and panic
Besides people becoming manic
Was the most haunting of sounds, ever to be heard
Surreal and hysterically absurd
As loved ones try to leave nothing unsaid
Was the continuously ringing cellphones of the dead
©Pauline Russell
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 7:35 PM UTC
Same place
Different faces
Same path
Different paces
Same promises
Different lips
Same heart
Different lovers
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 7:51 PM UTC
A seed, set into soil, seeded to be
a great oak tree.
sprouts in deepest of hells floors
towers unto heaven’s door.
Many try the climb and fail
Not many live to tell the tale
Many try the climb and find
At the top they are forgiven sin.
Many will gaze upon the tree
maybe you.
Maybe me.
Golden fruit and angels high
branches of life unto the sky.
Pleasure below, swapped for the soul
Ecstasy traded for a heavy toll
Angels look down from tree branch high
Demons beckon below
One way yes, one way no
I am climbing from bottom to top
Although at times I am stopped
even when I begin to fall
I catch myself and begin again
That climb from Worlds end
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 7:48 PM UTC