Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Oct 2015 Reynard
Ja
LIFE
 Oct 2015 Reynard
Ja
I was contemplating life
When it occurred to me
That nothing in our lives
Means as much as we

No matter good or bad
Or what it was we had
In time, it just becomes
Another memory

We instinctively move on
To new things we are drawn
And the happiness or hurt
Becomes for us, the key

That decides what we do next
And thus our life affects
As we progress from here to there
And so, defines what we shall be
BOEMS BY JA 105
 Oct 2015 Reynard
AJ
I have this dream that I'm a failed 1940's housewife.
And I can't get this image out of my mind.

I swear I left the iron on,
The sink is overflowing,
The roast it burning,
The twins are crying,
The washing machine is pouring out suds.
And my husband gets home....
It's a mess.

He tries to put me in my place,
Apparently I must be submissive.
He tries to **** me in the kitchen
To prove his possession of me.
I yell and scream and
When he doesn't stop....
The knives were just.....
Too close to my end of the counter.

My lawyer pleads insanity.
I just plead.
"The invention of the ship was the invention of the shipwreck."
I've loved you,
Since the day we met.
I knew you were the one,
I was willing to bet.

You loved me,
Since the day I asked.
But just look upon us,
How much time has past.

You have my heart,
It's yours to keep.
Your are in my mind,
It cuts so deep.

I'll never forget,
The day we met.
The first time we touched,
True love would be set.

I love you
Im sorry for everything..
 Oct 2015 Reynard
Nevermore
It's always,
"Man down!"
God.
Man up
For a change.
Drowning,
is that what this feels like?
suffocated by nothing but air,
duties to preform,
but nothing gets done.
working hard,
but blamed for getting no where.
something fun that went a-rye.
power mad authorities,
wishing for control.
chains refusing to allow,
this wasn't how it was meant to be.
Friends laughing and enjoying life,
not to be mesmerized by the numbers of unfair calculations.
Hard work that spiraled to the ground when that power wasn't enough.
No more titles,
no more 'authorities'
in this happy place I created we do what is enjoyed with those who share an interest.
Not in the budget,
than make it so, or just don't go.
We can have fun other ways.
Simple can be fun as long as no one corrupts us.
it was my creation,
but I am equal to those who come.
Money is not a priority,
power is not our undoing.
It was meant to be enjoyed,
and reminiscenced after these few years,
not the cause of agony and failure.
 Oct 2015 Reynard
lucy
Loss of Self
 Oct 2015 Reynard
lucy
A part of my died last night. Well, I don't know if it so much as died as it just vanished. I think I lost the most important part of a soul. And that's the capacity to hope. I sobbed from dusk til dawn because part of what made me human walked out on me. How am I supposed to find happiness without hope? Without love? I kept my chest cracked open and vulnerable for the chance that he would take me back. All I have now is my dying heart and the final truth that I will never call him mine again. I feel as if I cried my soul out yesterday. I'm just a walking, breathing robot. A phenomenon of nature! I don't feel phenomenal. I feel like I'm doomed to a life of numbness. I lost love, then I lost the hope that love would one day fill the empty spaces in me again. The loss of hope is the loss of humanity. I grieved for the disappearance of the self that I had been. I am different today. Colder, less compassionate, slightly less alive.
When I woke up this morning, my ribs felt as if they all broke overnight. But I know that the crows outside my window must have finally gotten in. They had been picking at my bones, trying to get at the decaying flesh underneath. And I let them. What's the point of salvaging something that is past the point of no return? I think the worst feeling, the feeling that can break a person in half a second, is hopelessness. And when you walked away from me and half-heartedly said, "I'll always love you even if I can't show it," I felt everything but hope for a better tomorrow. Sorrow. Anger. Frustration. Grief. Desperation. Haziness. Numbness. Lifeless. Hopeless.
 Sep 2015 Reynard
raine cooper
you wrote a story
of a girl and a boy
they fell in love with old books
and each other
but the pen wasn't real
and sadly,
neither were you
#boy #girl #books #pen #story
From deep within I breathe a wisp
of air that holds dear to me
t'is but a wisp of love pure divine
and I do it instinctively

From deep within I hear a voice
of that which grasps my heart
t'is now but a faded memory
yet it shall never impart

From deep within I hold my breath
just to wait for the call of love
t'is but a far away voice I hear
and it is sent from up above

From all that has been within
bursts a long lasting flame
and from this day forward I see
nevermore shall I be the same
 Sep 2015 Reynard
mk
everyone speaks of going to heaven
"may his soul rest in peace"
acting as if they don't realize
he chose this for himself
conciously decided to take his life
he did not grow wings and fly away
his coffin is not empty
it has a body
and that body has rope marks
around the neck
his hands are cold
his eyes are shut
his organs are slowly rotting away
it is not beautiful
he is not an angel
he is the dead remains
of what once was
and all those saying
"he is in a better place"
have absolutely no proof of their statement
and neither did he,
all he knew was
that no matter what awaited him in the afterlife,
it could be no worse than the life he was living right now
it was not an accident
he did not fall,
he jumped
he chose to die
he chose to die this way
because the pain of death
& the pain of the dead
was nothing in comparison to the pain of life & the living
because it was easier
to hang himself from the hook on the ceiling
than to wake up the next morning
and look at himself in the mirror
he could not run from life
unless he was running towards death
so he chose
to win the race
first place
*once and for all
- our educational system tells us
that we can all be
big-*** winners

it hasn't told us
about the gutters
or the suicides.

or the terror of one person
aching in one place
alone

untouched
unspoken to-
[charles bukowski]

h, my prayers are with you.
Next page