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Jul 2015 · 582
Sweet Nothings
Rachel Lyle Jul 2015
Oh, and we're just departed ships
Basking in our own sun
We're just ghosts in the night
Passing corridors long
And I scan the pages
Crevices turn yellow, then brown
As I envelope your scent
I want to bring you down-
Crashing canvas
Entice, as I search for your sound
But you're nowhere to be found
No, I cannot see you around
You've left me long ago
A hollow body
I am now-
No longer how you left me,
I can still hear your sounds
As you whisper
Oh so softly
I can still taste your breath.
As you whisper sweet nothings
They encompass me now.
Jul 2015 · 292
might as well
Rachel Lyle Jul 2015
I do not know who I was
When I did those things I did
Good and the bad
It makes no difference still
Because even at my happiest
I cannot remember who I was
I do not think I had a soul then
I think I was a sponge
I think I would engulf them
Until I felt they and I were one
Because I could not be alone then
Because I'd try to bite off my own thumb
From going mad inside my room
Mad inside my heart
A coldness overwhelmed me soon
When you and I would part
And I liked you best because you filled
My silly head with gold
You told me fanciful stories love
Inside of a princess room
You never knew me though
You see
I did not know myself
So I would sit at the old stoop
And let you tell me who I was
Who I would be
You hung the stars
The moon
The sun itself
They danced around your head
When you look at me now
I might as well be dead
Jul 2015 · 301
Rachel Lyle Jul 2015
I've got two more weeks
But I'm burnt
Crispy and fried
Belly full of resin
Stomach full of rye
And I think that I can do it
But sometimes I screech and cry
I've got two more ******* weeks
At least I can try
Jul 2015 · 393
Rachel Lyle Jul 2015
Blackened with weeks old mud
Through the wilderness
Cuts, bumps, lumps
As the child cries
Without a care
For any state of mind
It may be anywhere
Wrapped up in a tourniquet
Sprung in curlicue skies
Pink and blue cotton
Parades in my mind
Tiptoes so quietly
Now a thunderous cry
Silly stories
Fake lies
Crooked grins
Pour me the gin
I need to be pacified
Jul 2015 · 291
Rachel Lyle Jul 2015
He will return the years the locust has eaten.
Jul 2015 · 583
Fine Arts
Rachel Lyle Jul 2015
There is so much beauty
That never did take flight
There is a sense of wonder
In deep mysterious nights,
Listening to the old sage speak
I feel my heart take flight,
Through music chords
Shiny shores
Velvety delight,
Encapsulates me
And I dream
Forever in a spell,
If only I could stay right here
I would do very well
Jul 2015 · 447
Deferred Pain
Rachel Lyle Jul 2015
There is madness in the words
Scattered upon our bed,
While you sit in the other room
Mesmerized, practically dead.
Your eyes are glued wide open
Your mouth it is sewn tight shut,
I cannot help but whine inside
Whilst you look at ****.
There is madness in my head
A certain fragility in my pride
Confusion and exclusion creeping up my side.
There once was a story that my mother read to me
I think that I have lost that now
I never liked playing tea,
Or listening to fairy tales
Or playing make-believe.
I do not give a **** my dear
what you think of me.
And I think this is how I like it,
And I think this is where I want to be,
Sitting in my bed
Quiet as can be.
And if you weren't in there right now
I wouldn't need to cry,
And if you weren't a traitor
Maybe I could fly.
But you clipped my wings time and time again
You left me out to dry,
Ripped my limbs from ball and socket
Left me empty, blackened, dried.
And I am used again ,used again
Tattered as can be,
And I will give again, give again
Hoping you will stay with me.
I tried to send you letters
I tried to keep you mine.
I'd let you rip my nail beds out
If you would just go back in time
But I am asking for a miracle
I am asking for too much
So I will be a good little girl now
Whilst I choke on my own punch.
Jun 2015 · 330
Still Dancing
Rachel Lyle Jun 2015
In the midst of sun beams and clouds
High. I am low. Surfing on the bottoms
With leeches and magical monsters
Shinning. Dazzled and sunken to them-
I follow like my skin is wrapped in woolen fur,
Them with their sharps caught upon mine,
I with my lows wrapped into their depths.

We go deeper, down to a trench- the bright lights,
And I to follow unceasingly like the little lamb
I am naught without it. Naught without him.
And so I shall be naught at the bottom of this trench.
Going deeper but always keeping my eyes on the light
In the back of my pupils, you may still see the light
If you look hard enough you still see us dancing.
May 2015 · 318
Damned Two Cents
Rachel Lyle May 2015
I am beginning to hate the male species
From where did they come?
Where it is acceptable to think a woman dumb?
That she shouldn't have the answers
That she ought to be sweet-
Rearing children, never barren,  
Incessantly caring
Wake-up I want to shout!
Open your eyes and see.
Just because I have breast that are tender,
And a ****** that is moist.
Makes me no less your equivalent
Or dare say more so.
I needn't always wear a smile
Strong-willed doesn't ensure a wretch.
Oh, I won't find a mate if I go on this way?
An old hag I shall be then
At least I'll keep my ****** two cents
May 2015 · 242
Rachel Lyle May 2015
I am neutral as neutral comes
And no I'm not defeated
And no I've not gone dumb

I've got the neutrality of the ocean
The serene of a morning dew
Watch me glisten as I escape you
May 2015 · 522
Rachel Lyle May 2015
I have fears like the hundred year
Swarm of locus in my breast
Bundled up tight and lurching
Through my voice endless breaks
Sobs beneath smiles
Smiles under clenched teeth

I have sorrows like Noah in the belly
Of a ferocious beast
Flopping and sinking in bile
Turning green with stench
Of salted tears
And gangrenous wounds

I have two feet that push forward
And eyes to pinpoint light
Hands to guide me
And a God on my side
I feel I've yet a hard plight
Apr 2015 · 372
Rachel Lyle Apr 2015
At night when alone
I must find the patron
Find the ways to cope
While being
Just me and the world
Inside with my thoughts
Saddened and maddened
Me and my thoughts
Do not know right
From the left
Back from the front
Or any in between
Me and my thoughts
Far from serene
And I envy the others
Who sit back
Silly simple things
No thoughts of the mother
Broken with shame
Afraid of her name
The babies with bellies
From hunger
The men shot on site
Afraid of their brothers
The world gone to ****
I'm scared of it all
If I were strong
Yes richer
I'd like to think
I'd stop every bit of it all
Halt the nasty
In tracks
Screeching to a halt
Stop the famine
And the bad men
And just save all
I like to think these things
But then I think
Thinking isn't right
Do I need to calm down?
Do I need to take flight?
See I don’t really know
But I do know one thing
This world is ****
And I'm just a pawn
Who really

Can't solve ****
Mar 2015 · 587
Hungry Heart
Rachel Lyle Mar 2015
I stood up today
Put up a fight
Slapped on my boxing gloves
Straightened upright
Arched my shoulders back
With so much devotion
I socked it to you
No hints of emotion
Were shared
With your hungry heart-
It wanted a bite
Yet couldn't even start
No more shall I be prey
To a hungry heart
Like you, untamed-
No, I'll slap on my gloves
Call it a night
Draw back a fist
Sock it to you right
Leaving a hole
In your hungry heart
Hoping no more
A hungry heart to bite
Breaking an addiction is a powerful feeling. We should learn to get high off of accomplishments rather than feelings. Measurable goals are where it is at, :)
Mar 2015 · 404
Pope of Nature
Rachel Lyle Mar 2015
I have a pope of nature you see
She is always there for me
Inspiring me to greater heights
Keeping me grounded during tumultuous nights
Gave me air to breathe and grow
Taught me how to count leaves in a row
Sprouting from the green fig trees
Bouts of honey rain from her lips
As she soothes my worries and miseries
I have a pope of nature you see

Where would I be if not for thee?
Mar 2015 · 525
A Pointless Ride
Rachel Lyle Mar 2015
What would I be
If the words ever left,
Me to be muted
Dull and flattened?

What would I do
Should my actions cease,
Mattering for mere sake
Busy work at lightening pace?

Where would I rest
Should I get caught in current,
A pointless swim uphill
Tumultuous and torrent?

How could I live
Without you by my side?
Cold clammy hands,
It would be a pointless ride.
I cannot help but to want to write a poem every time I log-in. There is a lot of learning left to be had even after we become "adults".
Feb 2015 · 299
You Had Me At I
Rachel Lyle Feb 2015
He sends me three letters,
A little I-L-U
And my heart sings
Light air beneath my wings
Send me into a flippy flight
Where he and I can rest tonight,
Swimming through silver clouds
Celestials spouting-
Humpback whales
Sing us songs in lover key
Silent but to him and me.
Our own little melody
Wrapped in love and hate,
I'm glad tonight that I took the bait.
when it's good, it is so good.
Feb 2015 · 365
Hollow Shell
Rachel Lyle Feb 2015
My body is a hollow shell
An exoskeleton that does me well
This skin, these bones
Provide contour
Could I really ask for more?
Is it wrong to feel divide
Between my body and my eyes?
A prisoner trapped in a well
Summoned here to there,
Eternal hell.
It makes me do things rather strange
While inside screams are not contained-
Yet my body it does not allow
A single peep from its hollow shell.
Feb 2015 · 402
7th Grade
Rachel Lyle Feb 2015
I used to have a hard time writing poetry.
Even in word searches,
The words would scare me.
They had fangs
And blood eyes
Things to make a stomach curl.
They wanted my id,
Desired my world.

They wanted to know me,
Inside and out.
They wanted to hear
My innards and outs.
They wanted me to write
A pretty little poem,
They wanted to hear
A haiku- or a string me
With thorns.

They wanted to know
How I was a liar-
How I hadn't a mother,
Barely a father.
They wanted to know
How I was neither Catholic
Nor saint-
They wanted to know
I wanted my taint

Touched by many men
Maybe a girl,
They wanted to know
I hadn't a soul.
That I wasn't pretty and pink.
How I'd never loved.
How I thought they all rejects
******* on thumbs.

They wanted to know I hated them all-
They wanted to know,
I am a loser
I am a fake-
They wanted to know,
They could all make impressions,
On a tormented girls soul.
Sting of consciousness...

Trying to channel the girl I used to be.
Feb 2015 · 460
Take You To Bed
Rachel Lyle Feb 2015
A woman is not pretty
She is not made like a rose,
She is ******
Sometimes evil
Got her warts
From a toad.
Just like you
Out back
******* on toads-
Smothering salt
On spinals
And taps
Into cow wells
Swimming amongst bile
And of salt
And of feces and toads,
She romped and walloped
With the best of you boys,
So much you forget
She threw a mean left jab
Scratched your brand new cycle
Called you a hag.
And you went home to momma
And to poppa
And to dad
Cried in their faces
While she got to brag-
Amongst silly other girls
Finally you must take revenge
Because never in this day
Can a boy
Admit  a girl
Could wallop their heads
Tidy their skirts

And send you to bed.
Pretty sure this is a J. Holiday(sp?) song. R&; the song but it is sexist none the less. Take me to bed? No, I think I shall take you to bed!

This is a steam of consciousness piece of work...No intentions to correct a single word of it have been made...

I hope you can relate and enjoy, :)

Happy Sunday!
Feb 2015 · 468
The Dead Among Us
Rachel Lyle Feb 2015
Noxious haze did coat the air
Peculiar winter noons,
Leaving branches bare
Hollower now than pale moons.

When the three of them did come
In alignment, suddenly you can see
Tattered roofs piled with crum
Toys lined haphazardly.

And they're all dead-

Zombies in the factory
Ghosts in the town,
Martians walking down the street
Dead buried in the ground

Inside torn and battered homes
Corpse lie on the couch
Perpetually glued to the tube
Souless men can vouch.

Careless vows
Broken words
Babies let out sharp howls.
Love and understanding unfurls

Leaving a scattered messy mess
(Which no one wants to clean)
All like to say they've tried their best
But the best has yet to be seen
Feb 2015 · 903
Dark Side Of The Moon
Rachel Lyle Feb 2015
I'll cradle your little head, if only for tonight
If only inside of these sanatorium walls dripping with disease
and with bleach, I'll count every finger,
learn every fold, memorize your face,
which one day I shan't hold.
Because I am broken; crazy as a loon;
because I am dysfunction lost inside the moon.
Here on planet Earth I just do not belong-
From my womb you came, but to them you belong.
And just know sweet child that I tried my very best,
Crooning every love song that I have ever known
Jam your image into me for nights when I feel alone
But little baby I am broken and there is nothing that I know to do-
Look for me a lifetime from now, on the dark side of the moon.
PLEASE READ! If you feel moved speak about this subject to others or repost...anything if you agree. This is a poem inspired by witnessing the tragedy of drug addiction. DRUGS ARE SAD NOT BAD!
Feb 2015 · 450
Rachel Lyle Feb 2015
The most important things I cannot write
For my heart is filled with lead
It sinks to somewhere underneath
All the mighty heads
I find myself amongst disparity
The sadness of them I feel
As if just by glancing and knowing
I've chopped out chunks of me
Flung them out amongst them
Hoping to set them free
Hark! I've been among you
The sadness too I've felt
I don't know why I'm standing here
Rather than the other side of the shelf
Often times I think there is nowhere else for me
Often times I think
Often times I think
Then I cannot write
Feb 2015 · 450
Silent Cries
Rachel Lyle Feb 2015
Hush your pretty little head now honey,
They don't want to hear you talk about money-
About how women are treated unjustly.

Pipe down now lady,
If not I fear they will label you crazy-
Send you away until things get less hazy.

Yes now darling,
This isn't your calling-
Can't you see a woman ain't fit for brawling?

Silence sweet baby,
Your daddy is here-
To make all your senseless cares fly away from here.

Submit dear wife,
You've signed the vows-
Bible states I'll be in charge now.
Feb 2015 · 534
Glory Days
Rachel Lyle Feb 2015
He looked like my beau
What's a girl to do?
He looked like my beau
Back when he was brand-new.
A pretty shiny toy to sit upon my shelf
Debonair and charming
Sophisticated air
Became rather stagnant
Sickeningly sweet
Fruit flies on pears

He looked like my beau
What was I to do?
He looked like my beau
Back when I was brand-new.
Back when I was a pretty thing
Sitting upon his shelf
Back when I was a ***-kitten
With a dainty meek purr
Yes back in our glory days
We both had quite the lure
Feb 2015 · 331
Hungry For Mother
Rachel Lyle Feb 2015
In volcanic rifts
There is life
With each breath
There is air

As the tears fall
So does rain
In the dew
We are there

Giving each song
As the birds wake our soul
We sing to the fish
Nestled deep down below

In the wind
We are wild
Spotting fairies
A child

Runs in the summer
Close by her mother
Boys follow bears
Girls brushing hair

While willows speak
To elders
Clouds part to
Glistening fur

Of rabbits in boroughs
And families in town
Pink necked flamingos
Enchanters in gown

We reach for the sky
Leaves branching high
With thunder we growl
Hungry for mother
Jan 2015 · 411
No-Man's Land
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
I am trying to figure me out
Whatever the hell that means.
But as I hunt and find, all that's there is uncertainty.
And I suppose it is a dangerous game I play
One cursed with no way out,
Because the deeper that you search to find
All the light gets run out.
Then you're left with dark and dirt
Bits of puzzle strewn about,
But **** it you forgot the torch,
You left it back in town.
See now you're here and it’s a lonesome thing,
Finding out who you are-
The innkeeper, the toll-taker
Obtainable is just too gosh **** far.
So here you sit with bits of dirt
And pieces in each hand,
But with no you to solve the puzzle
You're left in no-man's land.
Jan 2015 · 284
Poetry Is For The Pits
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
Why do I write poetry?
Certainly not for the fame.
No it is not for him or her,
See it is hard for me to even ascertain-
Why I write these silly little lines
Why it eats me alive with its power
Why I cannot relinquish one thought
Without a line attached.

Surely in another life
I could have chosen another course-
Stayed away from the slippery *****,
Diverted toward the door;
But another life I have not
And you get what you get
So here I am writing another silly line
Poetry is for the pits
Jan 2015 · 464
Penny Loafers
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
My penny loafers have gone missing-
I haven't the faintest where to find them.
They once held shiny pennies in their mouth
Promising and self-assured,
Soles never worn or tattered,
Carried on by a sorcerer's spell
The flight of endless trip-tops
Over bridges and through islets.
They knew right where to lead me-
But now they have escaped me
And I haven't the faintest where to find them.
Jan 2015 · 363
Day Dreaming
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
Breaking through polyurethane
I glance the sea-
Blue and vast,
I play make-believe
In a cloud with you beside of me.

We are mummified,
Dead inside, you and I.
Wrapped up in cotton and silk
Amongst last night's soured milk
We set each other free-

We understand each other,
You and me, to lay here forever
With soured milk
In a sarcophagus
By the sea.
Jan 2015 · 623
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
I am a con artist
Who creeps amongst shadows
Afraid of brilliance
And light.

I am a vagrant
With frayed hand-me-downs
And disease out the ying
Yang, and through the door-

Creeping into your two stories
With white picket fences
And rose bushes
Where children laugh and bleed.

I am a soul sucker
Slurping your pretty jewels,
Coveting your life,
Slipping into your eyelet blouse.

I am your peer,
Your friend,
Your lover,
Yet you shiver at it all.
Jan 2015 · 707
Night Bloomer
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
Incubated in the ground
Moles and ants would gather round
To see the princess of the night.

Between the spiral pastel shells
Where dung and life choose to mell
Gracefully she undid her veil, ready to take flight.

Stretching arms wildly
Little princess bounding, set free
To live among humanity.

There she found quite a scare
For man nor woman believed in hell
And trampled upon heir to be-

Petals crushing in the ground
Not a trace of princess there was found
Except her scent- priced a buck thirty-three.
Jan 2015 · 556
Tripping Down The Freeway
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
I'm east-bound
Heading down
Ninety-five on 95
And two ticks in,
Two more ****** of a cigarette
And I'm in,
I'm in.
I've been hit with a bore
Needle to my spleen
Its ruptured and its doing me in-
I'm in.
Here I go by ninety-five, 95
Silhouettes without faces
People without skin
In armored guard cars
Tripping down the freeway
Outpourings of their sins
Just wave at me,
Grin grin.
And I've been hit with a bore
Needle to my head
Feelings yes feelings
Shrivel me up.
Devour tenderness
Smother me in salt
Crystals to my wounds
Metamorphism to a saint
A brave one with a cap
Fit enough to be in the parade.
Title stolen from a Weezer song title.
Jan 2015 · 466
About My Mother
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
My intestines are growling
For you in the other room with your sweet head
Resting on another borrowed cradle.
My eyes used to burn for you,
Acid teardrop rains
In springtime despite life ablaze.
Freud would say it was ****** in my ****
Phase- Like the moon we wax and wane.
It's not a reliable guide for me,
At any given moment I wax and wane
Because I like to eat hearts out to feel less insane.
If I could ever get a hold of you,
Green child in the next room,
I'd savor you in little bits for lost times
The little bits I've lived and missed.
I'd cover you in honey
Wrap you up in gold
Keep you in a crystal vase
So no one else could hold,
Your dainty neck in vice grips they'd never be as bold.
Yes, you pretty baby in the other room,
Although I'd never tell
I'm hoping you will stay with me
I'd hate to lose your smell.
Jan 2015 · 956
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
Inside of me I'd like to write pretty poetry
The kind that makes parents proud,
Calling out the cavalry, send in the national guards:
My girl right here has spinach in them veins, I'm here to testify!

Up I stick my nose
Quietly I shake my head,
For pretty words I cannot muster
Feelings better left unsaid.

Last night I saw my friend grazing in the mall
I scurried fast away from her
Darting by the wall.
Amongst the dirt and cobweb silk

Is where I poured my sweets
Finally I could take a breath
Finally I could sleep.
Without pointless niceties and cuteness

I felt my breathing lessen,
Cool and steady waves rushed over me
Right then I took my vow:
Never do the small talk route, you're better off in hell.

On this orb I cannot live
Listening to your chatter
Of sweetest words, kindest thoughts
Let's cut the ******* banter.
Jan 2015 · 1.2k
Leo the Lioness
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
I believe in a red hot fireball
Standing still
Or orbiting too hurriedly to tell.

I am standing here in amazement
Of a fiery ball
Worshipping it as it nurtures-

Hate to see it fall.
I don't like things too complicated;
Just me and my pretty ball

Light years away from me
And a blessing in itself its true,
For I'd admit its fuel

Douse it upon my head.
Yes, smother me in flames
So my little fireball and I can be one and of the same.
Jan 2015 · 298
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
Slivers of metals hang from her undone mouth
Wide and open,
(She used to be so ***** down south)
But now all I see are golden tokens in her mouth

To take her away to where the air is more airy,
Where she plans on gaining
A cellulose type, of invisible form
(God, I wonder if she still remembers Jerry?)

Saw him down at the tavern, just the other day
Paying his respects is all I can guess-
He was whooping and hollering
Pretending to smack the old girl's ***

(God, I hope she has brought plenty of gold
For let's face it, she's no Mary)
But I fear even with a mouth like hers, you shan't yield

And never will the once sweet child be able to tarry .
Jan 2015 · 736
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
Guess it's time to shut it down,
Wind it up
Love in bounds.

Reckon I'll go and shave for him,
Bathe for him
Lay with him.

Suppose I'll need to turn it around,
Take my dreams
Wash them down.

Thinking it's time to put you aside,
Wipe my eyes
Jan 2015 · 471
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
I'll go on selling cookies,
I'll keep on baking cakes.
I'll wear my great-grandmother's diamond,
Upon a shaky hand.
I'll keep up with my studies
And stretch to ease the pain.
I'll be a loyal daughter,
Be the friend they like to have.
I'll scrub the dishes once for duty,
And twice if I am moody.
I'll keep up with the mending
Picking ***** bloomers from the floor,
I'll chauffer the young to their games
Keep the dinner off the floor.
Feed the cats before and after bed
Clean the rodents soil-
I'll muster all the strength I have
Because you like me to smile.
And while you peer at me
Through monocles and microscopes galore
I'll never let you see an ounce of me

For that's my bit of lore.
Jan 2015 · 368
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
And I cannot think of anything else that I'd much rather do,
Than to sit here like a school girl and wail,
But after so many years of packing it in,
I cannot master the spell.

Watching kung-fu in your room
Watching you play ball in the 9th grade
Watching miniscule beads of sweat roll down
Watching your sweet charades-

But I am sick of watching, sitting, waiting,
Waiting for a chance.
None of this is worth the pain-
**** Sweet Romance.

Every word I write
Every scream I cry
Everything an essence of you.
What a terrible way to die

In shooting wells
In shifting spells
I heard the death bells chime.
What a shame I'll still carry, to a lingering grave of mine.

Now you're lost forevermore,
But you always really were-
Unobtainable I told you!
How silly to ask me why.

Who would have thought that this would be
The way it would come to pass.
Would I have changed a minute of it?
Well for that I haven't a guess.

Would I have chosen this path
Of tidal waves and volcanic flare?
Hah, well if nothing else,
I'll have plenty pretty poetry lined across my shelf.
Love stinks.
Jan 2015 · 510
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
Ten years I've loved you,
Nine years to know it was love.
Eighty times I've dreamt our dreams,
The ones I'd never tell.

Five times I've kissed you,
Many more we've sexed,
And I cannot fathom the times I've taken,
I've lost without regret,

Allotments I've allowed,
Blueprints for times too hard to bare.
Your gait, the weight, the way you talk,
Lips as soft as air-

Couldn't I just stay forever relishing in your stare?
But it is all just a rouge,
A spell, a curse, a bruised -
Heart, ego, spirit too.

You've left me feeling *****,
You've left me feeling numb-
How can it be I who must walk on with such regret?
Going through stages one through five infernally.

My fantasies, my delusions,
Call it what you will,
But facts are she is pregnant now,
Time for you to foot the bill.
Jan 2015 · 611
Grandmother's Many Mantras
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
Full disclosure is to come, in case it was hard to tell,
My bluest blues turn to black,
I've wallowed in myself.

Until an unexpected evening,
Whilst going through the mail,
I came across an excerpt, hand not hard to tell.

"What do you want from this wonderful, wild life?"
Melting deep inside of me
Artic chunks took another dip,

Lightening the colors-
Blackest Black, fade
Crystal Blue now mere ice chips.

What do I want from this wonderful,
Wild life?
Well with that thought I felt empowered

Felt my senses rise-
Shivers down nerve endings,
Pure and electrified.

What I want from this life is much too long to view;
But with that thought, it is all I need-
Start myself anew.
I love my Grandmother. We have the strangest but most wonderful of connections. My only regret was that it took me nearly 22 years to discover it. <3
Jan 2015 · 682
Hardened Lover
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
Love songs.
Yep, they do me in.
Idealistic and wrapped-up in melody-
Took me right down to the grave,
As I lay neutral, in my new bed,
I think to myself:
Cannot this ******* just put the dirt over my head?
Then I think I'll be warmer-
Yes, perhaps, maybe then,
My ice cold heart will train,
It will mold,
Easy, Breezy,
As it was intended to be.
I don't think that even a good burial could soften-up this old ticker. :) I'm really sweet where it counts..I swear it's so.
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
In the end I am not sure who is justified?
Seems as though it is mere mortals bounding with pride.
Stabbing with words,
Brandishing wounds,
Of a yester-year, never to heal-
Get in the last stab.

Oh, pride, pride,
Ultimate sin from which we came-
Not weeping vaginas,
(But with men's pride ,
Hurt like an infant bumped on the head)
I feel it’s the same.
Men is inclusive of women in this little tidbit.
Jan 2015 · 376
Tree Dancer.
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
Rolling through blacktop slopes,
Gliding to the trees,
Passing them one by one,
Chopped at ankles, missing feet.

Where have you run little toes?
Is it the cold that makes you hide?
I can recall, swift, giant strides made,
Knightly trunks take rise!

They cannot hear, nor can I speak,
amnesic of native tongue,
No, not a twitch, nor leaf, nor branch,
I zoom by, missing old chums.

Down now to the pits:
Green, white, brown, black, tan.
Vertigo between the ears,
Nausea in a bout.

What a nasty trail to take,
Slipping on down this hole.
Wanting lures of the unknown,
Forgetting truths told, and told, and told.

Where is Alice?
Where is Peter?
Mr. White Rabbit- hallo?

Muted colors, simplistic catatonia-inducing mirage.
Once you're here- succumb.
Watch your promising yesterday,
Madness in her form.
When I was young I remember looking out the car window and seeing the trees running by. I miss them from time to time.
Jan 2015 · 2.8k
You, I, & The Humingbird
Rachel Lyle Jan 2015
There once was a little hummingbird,
wings rapid, pulsating,
bleating, ceaseless in a cause:
either to fight or to flight,
run or to hide,
changes in the tide.

Come, with the palest of moons-
to infinity and beyond, sir,
infinity and beyond.

Come aboard the coaster,
just to pass the time,
care not for the ride-
just pass the time,
amongst the celestials,
biding our time.

Find our way to them,
to the divine,
heaven above, peaceful abode,
numbness no more, for,
You, I, and The Hummingbird are scheduled-
Pulling yourself out of a funk via spirituality and a good writing session, priceless.
Dec 2014 · 355
Rachel Lyle Dec 2014
I can pump out a poem a minute,
Like its formed by molding fire,
Amazingly, however-
The feeling still remains,
It is continuously sour.
Dec 2014 · 346
A Message
Rachel Lyle Dec 2014
I tell you people I've never met,
all of my problems,
deepest darkest secrets.

Although they are encoded,
I can tell I like you all fine,
because I can't even tell friends or families

highlights in my deepest, darkest, demise.
Dec 2014 · 439
Rachel Lyle Dec 2014
I'll never hold an ounce of it,
HP is my ultimate shrine.
To reflect on my bad times,
Recollect the fine times,
Store away all the stops between.

As long as the internet never fails us,
These memories are archived

In megabyte, fleeting time.
Title stolen from my favorite Purity Ring song. They are Canadian, and I know not what genre, but I encourage everyone to take a YouTube listen. They are divine!
Dec 2014 · 366
Abandoned Bay
Rachel Lyle Dec 2014
I think of you in the morning,
I think of you at noon.
Think of you in the daytime,
I can see you in my room.

I watch you disappearing,
Slowly dissipating away,
Underneath the streetlight-
Now an abandoned bay.

I remember you in fine times,
Neglecting to recall the poor.
I'll dream of you forever.

If only it could be more.
Dec 2014 · 1.1k
Rachel Lyle Dec 2014
Teen angst inside,
but not for long; slowly slipping away.
Home again, home again,

And excuse me, you other fools,
but I can't put my finger, precisely on this matter,
for often I feel,
it is all spiraling, lop-sided and out of control.

Continuously propelled in a forward matter,
tattered, worn - beaten - battered.
Here as an adult, it is all terribly lackluster.
Yes, sometimes, yes sometimes, I feel we are the silly ones.

We do this and that;
We're all-together righteous.
Got all the answers,
and just who is it that can stop us?

Those other foolish adults?
Cold, torn, and battered?
Ha, I think not,
Push 'em over, they're really all that's the matter.
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