Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Like the fresh buds of
a Prunus serrulata,
it's light and airy.

From the color of
heated cheeks and
the tips of ears,
it's warm and inviting.

The harshness of a
simple lipstick shade
against pale skin,
it's bold and bright.

Lips pressing lips,
entangled in a fervor
of lust and love,
it's a distinct aura.

The gentleness
it brings forth from
strawberry ice cream,
it's a devine pleasure.

Delicate hues dance
across the sun's rays,
it's a sight to behold.

‘Tis worthy of the
majestic color
pink.
What do you expect of me?
To do everything for you?
Like a simple housewife in 1950?
Cooking and cleaning and laundry?
Hell to the no.

Yes, we have a child,
but does that make me the
sole caretaker of them?
The one they come to
when they're scared?
Hell to the no.

We are a partnership.
A force of support
for those around us.
A team working together
as one giant entity.
Should we be any less?
Hell to the no.

So please think before
you act or speak.
Especially with phrases like
"I will get to it later" or
"In a minute".
Then not do them.
I will end up doing them then.
Hell to the no.
You gave us a superhuman spider
and an insect of ant proportions.

You created the man of iron
and a man that can control it.

A pioneer of an epic approach,
you challenged a great authority.

By bringing forth enticing characters,
you lit a fire in those that followed them.

Everything about them is extraordinary,
and the passion radiated from the pages.

Thank you for all that you did, Mr. Lee,
you surely will be a man that we remember.

❝ Excelsior!❞
To honor the great legend, Stan Lee, I have made this poem.

In the words of the man himself: "I try not to do anything that's too close to what I've done before. And the nice thing is we have a big universe here. It's filled with new ideas. All you have to do is grab them." Basically, variety is the spice of life and with it, something miraculous could be made.
Red. Yellow. Orange.

These colors represent autumn.
The leaves will start to fall,
The weather will become cooler,
And the days will become shorter.

Leaves will crunch underfoot,
Flowers will start to die.
Say goodbye to summer,
Because autumn has just begun.

Put those leaves in a pile,
Get ready to jump in,
There's nothing more fun
Then playing outside for awhile.

Halloween will soon be here,
So get dressed and go have fun.
Before you know it,
Autumn will soon be done.
der Verbrecher
waits for an opportunity
to strike at the weakest points.

der Moment
comes for them
to attack the vulnerabilities.

das Zimmer
is encased in black,
shadows creeping everywhere.

die Frage
remains if there's
a lurker amongst the darkness.

das Blut
splatters the wall,
staining the darkness with red.
The translations are as follows:

der Verbrecher - The criminal

der Moment - The moment

das Zimmer - The room

die Frage - The question

das Blut - The blood
You preyed on my innocence,
assuming my naïvety as advances,
telling me to think of you as a
'second father' and that I was 'wanting it'.
Would a father do this to their child?

Was I 'wanting it' when you
put your fingers inside me?
Or said that I 'tasted good'
once you were through?
Did you know what you were doing?

I will admit that I did not help matters
by answering your perverted questions,
but that does not excuse your behavior
or how you acted after it was over.
I am sorry for insinuating I 'wanted it'.

Was it your intention to make me this way:
to have me grow up feeling low about my self,
to become so obsessed with ***,
to want to cheat on those I am with?
If it was, I applaud you for achieving your goal.

Because of you:
I became someone obsessed with ***,
boys, and the way I looked.
I became someone I hated.
You kept me in my shell.

Because of you,
I let people in too easily,
I gave my heart away,
and I trusted what they said.
You violated me at my most vulnerable.

I reveled in the attention I got
and figured that, because of you,
I should not worry about my self-worth.
That this was how normal relationships were like.
You left me broken and confused.

I am finally starting to break free of your bond.
To love me for who I am becoming.
I am no longer fearful of you,
though I am fearful of people like you.
Those that prey on the vulnerable.

I will never forget you,
but that does not mean I have to forgive you.
You do not deserve forgiveness.
To know who I am today is enough for me.
I hope you feel guilty for your actions.

Now I am flying free,
fear of the past no longer an option.
Like a bird, I break from my shell,
knowing that you will never hold that bond over me again.
I am free of you at last.
Eyes burn into the back of my head,
watching my every move.
How am I just now noticing this?

To think that I was once doing the same,
only I would try not to be as obvious.
It takes great skill to master what I do.

Be careful where you are,
you never know who is watching you.
Creeping around corners and over hedges.

I look in the windows of everything you own,
waiting for the moment you realize I am there.
I love to watch you squirm under my gaze.

On the other end of the spectrum,
is something I would rather not be on.
It is nothing short of unpleasant.

Could you leave me alone?
I would rather like to hear myself think.
Though not much thinking will be had.

You get closer with every step,
hoping to catch me in your grasp.
You shall not win at this game.

I get closer to you everyday,
yet you seem to slip further away.
An enigma I cannot have.

I dance this dance with you,
but nothing seems to keep you ensnared.
Will you ever become mine?

This never-ending cycle of cat and mouse,
is something I have grown accustomed to.
Please, let us end this soon.

I shall never grow tired of the day,
where we dance face to face.
Instead of from across the way.

You are my treasure,
and I am your prize.
Until the day we meet, my shadowed friend.
Stepped on, squandered, smashed.
Thrown, trampled, trashed.

Everyone passing you by,
Not wanting to look you in the eye.

They think you're ugly,
Glancing at you smugly.

What they don't know,
Is that you bestow

A beauty they can't even comprehend.
For I think you set a trend.

A trend of great love and beauty,
Who's splattered cement still smells fruity.

They'll never know you like I do,
So let's bid them all Adieu.
Vibrancy is all that I require,
Since I hold a special beauty all my own.
I'm all that you desire,
When sitting in my glass throne.

I come from fields of plenty,
Bathed in hues of violet.
I'm used for bouquets of many,
Making everything ultraviolet.

My smell is quite unique,
Since I have a spectrum of them.
I have my own mystique,
All coming from my stem.

People love me from up close or afar,
Maybe it's for my color or my smell.
All I know, is that I'm special by far,
Having everyone cast under my spell.
I see thou walking over there,
With a single rose in thine hand,
Hafst thou loved another,
Just as I hafst loved thee?

Why, Randal, must thou leave me so?
I hafst been nothing but good to thee.
I prepare thy food, watch thy children.
I hafst done everything thou hath asked of me.

My heart aches for thee.
Thou hafst pricked it with a thorn.
For thou hafst cast me aside.
I guess thou hafst never truly loved me.

Thou know me the best.
All my dreams and fears.
What I value the most.
How shall I live without thee?
The sea is like life,
on which man must sail.
In both, there are a number of possibilities
that lie hidden from the common eye.
Some are gifts to be treasured
and some are problems to be defeated.
Neither will be found unless man embarks upon the journey.
If man is lucky enough to discover a treasure,
he must fight until death to retain it;
if man is unlucky enough to discover an evil lurking underneath the surface of the sea,
he must fight it bravely and nobly until the end.
In either case, it is the struggle that is all -  important,
and a man obtains the status of hero if he battles the sea with grace under pressure.
The lions appear to be mere cubs, playing like young cats in the dusk,
they always make him happy; they are good company.
When the lions appear in their adult majesty,
they suggest and signify great strength and nobility.
The lions in his dreams always appear, not in their natural environment, but on the beach,
they suggest that there is a harmony in all of life.
The marlin is the ultimate foe, one that brings out the best in man.
A man who loses their faith as life's woes attack,
for those without faith are defenseless.
Man embarks on life and encounters treasure.
Man battles nobly to earn the treasure and then fight the problems to save it.
Even though man lose the treasure to the problems,
he has won the battle of life.
Standing on center stage,
you wait for the curtain to pull back.

Once revealed,
you start your dance.

Left foot up in a triangle,
higher than the other.

Down once more,
while the other goes up.

You dance in a circle,
hands raised above your head.

You want to jump,
soar, and fly.

But you're inhibited
by invisible strings.

You're my marionette
and I'm your marionnettiste.

The song is over
it's time to be done.

Let me show you
what these hands can really do.

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Your precious strings
tangle around your limbs.

One by one,
they start to fall.

Leaving trails of blood
where they drop.

You should never
have tried to soar free.

For that, you must
face the consequences.

No longer
shall you dance.

No longer
shall you spin.

Now, an empty shell
of who you used to be.

Before long,
you'll be forgotten.

Nevermore than
a simple memory.

We're all puppets in the end.
Munching on the cold interior,
Every speck of juice running down my chin.
Longing to sit here,
Only me and my watermelon,
Noises all at bay.

Only the crunching
From the tasty treat can be heard.

The sweet taste
Hitting my taste buds,
Ever so slowly.

Whether rain or shine,
Anguish or glee,
The succulentness watermelon brings to me.
Everlasting juicy redness,
Refreshing melon of the water.
Star filled mind, and mindless stars
O, how I wish you weren't so far.
Why must you beseech me so
before you're about to go?

You twinkle up above, so high.
I itch to get up and fly.
I need to reach you, before you go
So shine upon me your bright glow.

I can see you glowing in my mind,
but alas I must leave you behind.
You will forever be in my heart,
for we shall never be apart.

I hope you can see me from where you are,
because sometimes I wish I was a star.
That way I could be up next to you in the sky,
watching over others from way up high.

I'm going to miss you, my bright star.
For, my love doesn't reach quite that far.
I must bid you Adieu, dear friend,
I'll miss you until I ascend.
This dedicated to my Uncle, without whom I wouldn’t have a love of the stars.
The springs creak
under the weight
of the shadows.

Everything around
moves silently.

They're waiting to strike.
To peel off your flesh
and watch you suffer.

You never know
when they're coming.

Hiding in plain sight
is what they do best.
Mistakes will be made.

Claws extend
around your throat.

Silencing your screams,
they watch you struggle
enjoying your light fade.

Licking their lips,
they devour your soul.

You disappear,
a speck in existence.
Forever gone.
The color of mud,
they live underground.
Only coming up
when they want to be found.

Oh, woe is me,
a mere farmer,
that I produce
a product as ugly as me.

It can't help its
oblong nature,
bland taste
or simple denature.

‘Tis but a spud
of different types,
colors, and shapes,
yet still manages to have a bud.

A simple starch,
that much is known,
but when added to things,
it brings in a life all its own.
The blade presses against my flesh.
The cool metal feels good on my skin.
I long for the pain to go away,
that harbors against my soul.

Why won't this feeling end?
This constant pounding in my head.
I want it all to disappear.
Could this be the only way?

Cut after cut,
they still aren't leaving.
Line after line,
they're still swarming.

The deeper I go,
the number I feel.
Yet the pain remains.
Nothing stops these thoughts.

If only you cared . . .
Maybe I wouldn't have done this.
Just one smile from you,
would have changed the world.

A last breath escapes my lips,
as I go to meet my maker.
Forever His.
Never yours.
If you or anyone you know struggles with anything that has you thinking of taking your own life, please don't hesitate to call this number - 1-800-784-2433. It leads straight to the US Suicide Hotline who have people willing to help you with whatever you're going through.

"Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten." ~ Stitch
On the day we met,
you hooked me with your laugh
and hilarious demeanor.

On the day we met,
all it took was my name being
said from your lips for you to catch me.

On the day we met,
you laughed at my blondness
and still give me crap for it.

On the day we met,
nothing else mattered
as we travelled across the universe.

On the day we met,
you didn't have to say anything
for me to know exactly what you were thinking.

On the day we met,
the message I received was innocent
until you heard me speak.

On the day we met,
you said you were surprised
by my voice and quiet nature.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

On the day we met,
I had you hooked
with my easy-going disposition.

On the day we met,
nothing could stop us
being flirty with each other.

On the day we met,
I entrapped you
with my words.

On the day we met,
we became friends
and warmth was born.

On the day we met,
I made you jealous
by playing with your friends.

On the day we met,
those feelings
became so much more.

On the day we met,
I was told of your affection
and spoke my own.
They trained hard for this,
Sacrificing themselves for others.
Something that strong is tough to dismiss,
Becoming each other’s sisters and brothers.

They fight so we can live free,
Wearing different colors of camouflage.
Yet, we disgrace them by taking a knee.
That, to me, is the ultimate sabotage.

They are our fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers,
Even our friends and neighbors.
So let’s remember them, as we do others.
As we rest from all our labors.

Remember those that have and continue to serve,
On this eleventh of November, it's the least they deserve.
A tribute to those who have served/are serving.
We've been planning this for months, years even.
Nothing can stand in our way now, nothing.
The Protestant King will surely fall,
after we blow Parliament up the wall.

Today is the day that they will remember us.
We shall fight! We shall prevail!
History will be made tonight.
No stone will go unturned as we overthrow the King.

I sit here, keeping guard over the barrels.
Waiting for the signal to ignite.
It's a menial task - sitting and waiting. Caw! Caw!
There's the signal! Time to ignite!

Sizzle! Crack! Pop!
There go the barrels! Setting ablaze the room.
Parliament and the King will fall!
Down tumbles the building! Burning up the sky!

We have fought! We have prevailed!
The Catholics will be in power once again!
We have made them remember us forever!
Remember, remember the 5th of November.

*

"Remember, remember, the fifth of November

Gunpowder treason and plot

We see no reason Why Gunpowder treason

Should ever be forgot ...."
Silence.

Unwavering.

Unbroken.

Silence.

These thoughts keep swarming in my head.

Keep bringing me down.

Back to the
                      G
                          R
                             O
                                 U
                                    N
                                        D

When will these thoughts end?

This constant pounding in my head.

Thinking things,

I shouldn't

Be. Thinking.

Gripping at the corners of my mind,

I try to pull away from the noise.

Unsuccessful am I,

To succumb to such madness.

Take me away from myself

And let me live among the stars.

At least then I'll know of

Silence.
I come upon a rickety old bridge,
glancing down I wonder what it
would be like to float free.
Free of this life and all that it brings.
That would be something else entirely.

Lost in thought, I soon realize
I'm being watched.
Looking to my right,
I see a tall faceless figure in between
the barren trees.
It just stands there
staring at me.
What does it want?

I move along the bridge, my heart
racing at every step.
I hope my time
has not come, for I want to leave on
my own accord.
I stop just short of a rotting
board. I hear nothing but eerie silence.

My heart still racing, I turn around, noticing
the figure is there no more.
What could this possibly mean for me?
Is it really my time?
Am I being lead to my untimely demise?
These questions remain unanswered.

Next thing I know, I fall through the floor.
The last thing I see before I hit the water below,
is that figure again even slender than before.
The last face I'll ever see,
is that faceless figure staring back at me.
The Slenderman.
The wind rushes though my hair, 
Whistling it's shrillness in my ear.

The thunder gives a deafening boom,
Echoing inside my skull.

It never ends,
The crashing of water on rocks.

Like war soldiers in battle,
The waves cry out.

Desperately wanting to
Be rid of such pandemonium.

I'm unsure of the havoc it's caused,
With all the loudness it brings.

Everything is on hyperdrive,
My ears even more so.

Now the wind is coming much faster,
Causing me to loose all sense of direction.

The high pitch of an alarm is off in the distance,
Still trying to resonate above all the turmoil.

Suddenly, everything stops
And I'm left to wonder where it all went.

No nosie, no thrashing of the trees,
Complete silence - trance like even.

It's over. I'm free.
From under the bed,
the shadows creep.
Feeding off the dread,
that you do seep.

At night is when they show,
that you are never alone.
Always waiting for you to know,
that they are there in the unknown.

As you drift off to sleep,
the shadows lurk underneath.
After you are fast asleep,
they come with many teeth.

Fear is something that they eat,
the torment filling their bellies.
For they love the tasty treat,
the terror sensing a bit of jellies.

Once they devour your despair,
they'll leave nothing in their wake.
Only then will you be aware, that they are nothing if but fake.
The bell rang, school is done
Yet we have to return in a mere 2 weeks.
For, you see, school is never over
Here in winter.

Many of us leave to warmer weather,
But I stay here in the cold because
That's where I'm truly at home.
Here in winter.

It many seem cold, dark, and dreary
But at least comfortable
Surrounded by those I love
Here in winter.

Sitting by the fire, roasting marshmallows
And telling stories about school
Or life. Listening to Christmas music,
Here in winter.

Opening presents and eating great food,
Surrounded by those that love you
During these cold, dreary days.
Here in winter.

It's still cold out, but it's time to return
Back to were we can tell people how we were
Surrounded by those that love us.
Here in winter.

— The End —