Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Mar 2018 Penny Iloa
Ted
The silence
between your words
is another
language.

Each  quiet        space
a   word     in    another
conversation.
 Mar 2018 Penny Iloa
Ted
"Addiction"
 Mar 2018 Penny Iloa
Ted
"A slave to your waters,
how I beg to kneel
and drink from you.

I feel so in control and powerful,
when under your influence.

Little do I realize,
how truly powerless I am,
when you're in me.

Under your grip,
with even one sip,
held so tight,
I have no life in sight."
 Mar 2018 Penny Iloa
Ted
"Self"
 Mar 2018 Penny Iloa
Ted
How to dream in this world,
when the light shines so dim,
through this heavy haze of perception.

Where to cast my light,
who is to be trusted to see a darkness lifted?

With eye's clenched shut,
A whole filled with my space.
Once upon a time,
Someone lived in me

I sheltered them,
And protected them,

Provided a place to hide from the world’s sorrow,
And to brace it’s storms

One day,
I was left alone

I was abandoned,
Left empty and hollow

The current took a toll,
It pushed and pulled

The ocean spit me out,
Broken and weak

I found myself wedged between two boulders,
Unable to move with the sea

Then I was found !
By someone who accepted my broken parts

She thought I was different,
My journey made me different

Because each journey is unique to its owner,
And it is theirs alone

Now, I’m on her window sill,
A place of value

Everyday she admires my beauty and my scars,
She accepts what is,

And that is enough.
I’ve worn the halo
I’ve donned the horns
each was a badge
of honor worn

stamp of authority
granted for acts
freewill stating
resulting headpiece

I’m here to control
those to be cowed
with badge of savior
or sign of the ******

headgear is placed
by deity
I’ll choose my savior
to make my path clear

one of rebellion
the other contrite
fight for their turn
to control my life

always an angel
differed by sight
shaking the fist
or walking the line.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180330.
The poem “Worn The Halo” was inspired by a Tumblr discussion that spoke to the differences between demons’ horns and angels’ halos.
I kept chasing
you, as if
you were
a distant dream.
But dreams
are not always
dreams.
Sometimes, we have
nightmares too.
When did those dreams turned into nightmares? When did I stop believing in the magic of dreams?
Next page