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I don't understand myself, nor love myself.
I'm stuck, trapped with a person I can't stand.
I guess that's adult life,
accepting your own misery,
citizens of this wasteland.
My time spent chasing rainbows taught me of pipe dreams,
and liars.
Dusting off the fairy dust,
I learn my limbs have life
Evolution saunters, entertaining kings
Picking fights, for the sake of the queen

Animals were made to bleed
Rainbows are made from rain.
partials of color
tend to escape

My time spent chasing rainbows, gave me bruises
cuts so deep, I never heal
there is beauty in the damaged flesh
solace in regret
Truth shines across the sky
colored in lies

I spent my time chasing rainbows, lost in the thrill
I should have spent my time admiring the still
the small feel, of standing beneath.
The pieces crackle under foot.
Glassy daggers pattern the cement.
Alleyway objects fall and stick,
collect,
under oil, ash and soot
The pieces crackle under foot.

The cries echo, howling wide
muffled under pain and grim
muffled under bends of time
muffled, quiet
hushed and silent
The cries echo, howling wide

The burning smoke, fowl and rank
invades the air we often drank
suffocates the smiles we made
the yellow thick
the yellow sticks
the yellow smoke
fowl and rank.

The bodies piled, bloated flesh
freshly killed, forgotten trash
faces of crumbled hopes
faces of lost souls
faces froze
faces cold
The bodies piled, bloated flesh
Watching Dunkirk, had me thinking dark war thoughts.
Is paradise an afterlife, or is it a feeling?
A release of being, freedom  
a soul unwrapped?

Is paradise a pasture, litter with green luster,
forbidden fruit, collecting in heaps of loot?
A sanctuary?

Is paradise a common place?
A corner of space, where again I will see your face?
A haven?

I only hope, the after life has rope
Incase it's not what we expected.

I hope you're there, aware
of who I am
The many questions we ask about what comes next.
Sweet one, dear lost friend
you have moved to the sky, on a higher plain,
free of your darkest pains.
Nestled there, hugging the stars,
surrounded by colors you so foundly wore.

I wish we could have had more time,
time to laugh or share a pint.
But I know you're safe, settled in.
Dancing moonbeams and rocking out to the big bang

I know the grief will someday vanish.
Once time has healed our gaping wounds
the hole you've left will one day fill
with new and exciting thrills.

But when I hear a corn song,
or taste the bubble of a stella
I will think fondly of you and smile.
When a girl with curls of color crosses my path,
I'll turn and wonder if your her.
Maybe I'll yell "hey Ally Progar"
and she will stare like I'm crazy girl.

I want to thank you for the person you were,
for living life the way you want.
No reservations, with a giant heart
I wish you were here, and in some way you are,
never forgotten,
our shining Ally star.
I lost a friend to suicide on tuesday night and thought I would write something about her.
I hold on to my anger
I give it a home
I live with the anger
I ignore the noise

With anger my lover
I'm stronger, brick and stone
With anger by my side
I burn hot, never cold

I stroke my anger's ego
in return he strokes me
cuddled in close
hatefully warm are we

If ever anger leaves,
I may shudder the cold
but perhaps with out anger
love's embrace could grab hold
Somewhere beyond the hast of commerce,
where noises sing rather than shout.
I know of a place under a canopy of emerald leaves, haloed in the sun.
Creatures come to crawl and fly, soaking the bounty growing natural.

Moments of stillness blow soft, carrying stresses away.
It's a place owned by the trees, they bend to greet travelers weary of their cage.

A place I long to stroll,
where summer kisses all that lives
and wildness sprouts within
A happy place
A box of rusted feelings hides in the salvaged yard of my mind.
Jagged sorrows and broken promises surround the dismembered machinery,
forgotten and guarded.

The old dog with his once beastly growl, no longer cares who leaves or stays.
The dirt below, slowly pulling
forming his final resting place.

Shabby parts like tired looks rot under thunderstorms of powering weather.
Torn threads like once relationships, patched and torn asunder
The Stacks pile high, a top the years of mistakes
The box slowly sinks
heaving more and more heartbreaks
A metaphor for the pain we pile up
The potency froths the glass in ghostly embers.
Rectifying a suppressed kiss.
Liquid's juicy lubrication sweats
as the icy voice asks,
refill my void.

Fingernails cling
like thorns to skin.
Waterlogged and fogged,
my footsteps fall,
sloppy little domino.

Mindful thoughts yank at drunk appendages.
One too many benders, far too many hands.

Awake, the memory kaleidoscopes.
Pieces unmatched.
Strange images fade,
meshed in sheets.
evidence stains.
I know not what I am,
though I exist, I persist in the acts of wondering
Am I here?
or are you there?
How does Einstein know which way is up?

If you live, long after you were born
long after your death,
would your light still show
Could you call it forever?
Or is it just another breath?

Would you call it a moment
or something much more potent.

I know not what I am
I see only stars, forever they spread
out past the future,
out near the end.
Feeling sad and small with tightly wound muscles, in balled fists
I lumber to the backyard.
The itch of my cage tickles the lungs as I slurp the cold march night.
My small yard hushes the creatures announcing my presance.
The wind tosses empty trees,
cracking the branches like drumsticks.
Above me the sky fully lit with the silvery lights,
stars so old they speak no words.

I find a small dim speck, precious.
I name her Sylvia, sweet Sylvia star.
I watch her twinkle, nestled in her corner of the sky, shinning.
Sylvia begins to swell with glow, and then slowly fade.
Her tiny sliver frame swallowed by the night.
Her long life burning out.
I smile up, silently thanking the universe for giving life.
as I smile at the star, sinking into the deepest pool,
the black well of Mother night.
Goodbye my star,
sleep tight.
“The night, like a well, was swallowing stars.”
Feet bare and scarred, limp toward the edge
scabs pinch at tired flesh
skin of leather fights gnawing winds
trampling the barren land, where graves begin

The shoe fits this haggard beast
he no longer roams the church of priests
no faith is left, no judgement thrown
A mountain up, a cliff below

One item left behind in folly
atop the edge a haunted body
time can cut emotions thin
shadows linger where soles have been
Prompt was worn boot
How long have you been struggling,
with the thoughts and theorems caged inside?
How obtuse the sudden angles
knifing us one stab at a time.
When the equation hangs unbalanced,
we look to correct the path behind
When the choice is always present,
to multiply or to divide.
Dawn was born in the beginning
Dusk born at the end
Only to circle back to dawn
For dusk to be born again

Circles, cycles turn and die
Then turn around to wave
Morning awakes to live
While night sleeps in her grave

Know the end is not the end
Only a simpler way to phrase
The birthing of a dawn
The beginning of future days.
A poem of circles
Bubbles bubble boiling brew
bumblebees and bullies too
busted bridle, bridges burn
buggie babies bob and burp
brush and beast brawl and boast
badly bruised burnt like toast
buttered bread, blueberry blue
better biscuits bake a new
boarder barriers bend and break
bested by a bigger quake
bald barbarians blunder business
bark and berate the only witness
bitter battle burns the brain
blurting out this blissful game
I love writing tongue twisters. It's so fun...try one yourself. It's hard to rhyme them while only using words starting with the same letter. B words are easier, then let's say...K or V, but hey challenges are fun!
What can I say it provoked me.
The smokey black slithered with sultry grace
passed all my carefully placed defenses.

Humor me, it spoke
caressing the ear.

I watched the glow of it's single eye
searching my mind
The black became a tether
knotting, choking.

What can I say I did nothing,
little lamb laid to the slaughter.

I remember it choking, the smokey black.

Like a raven haired lover,
A mistress of shadow wills my curiosity
In that moment, lost to the movement
I would or could never return.

Pinned to obsession
staggering the lines of possession
A rebel's tango begins
the staccato steps to be my end.
about letting your problems win, night anguishes
I left the candle wax to cry,
not wasting my own tears on emptiness
Blank space eats up all my comfort
too much space
too many hours, till morning

Sweet scents cling to cotton and pillows alike
venomous aromas you've left behind,
to suffocate my sleepless nights

The colors have left me too,
choosing the quickest exist.
Grey lingers the lone exile,
as black and white space defiles
our empty bed.
When my boyfriend was gone for a couple of nights I realized I hadn't slept alone in like 7 years so I wrote a sad poem.
Peach blossom scents
slip through the breeze
felt and caressed by half naked trees
with branches stretched
their limbs squeak
with sways they shake
awake they speak
I am dreaming of spring
Satin ribbons of galaxy blue sparkle
mild, but melting
they hang from the hair of a sweet gentle head
raven, but silky

One tear to spill for delicate tosses
strands so inky and spellbound in blue
Tides of strands so vast they ripple
whisps glimmer the breeze
smelling of coco and brandy

Bright beams of beach sky all around
waves of plenty
magic images fade
blue afternoons stand still
Blue inspired
These salted tears blur the view
you hammering at my heart.
Blow by blow
the world fades some more
and all that was is folly
25 words on crying
Blushing bleeds
dark against the ivory
We are here in between the hours
watching breezes
with pink flushed skin

I've felt vanity's edges
slick porcelain corners
pain is a passion
Lips tangle me in thoughts
smokey rage, sultry flesh

You hunger for what waits below    
Eternity vents holy hymn
swept in between your lustful murmurs
no perfume lingers
once licked clean

I've broken the ledges
torn and slit open
rolled in lust and pain  
Faking the climb
Come follow me, not far
I sing witchcraft    
while blushing
...what do you think?
By candlelight I love thee
but the quality of my professed love
depends on the lasting of the candle wax

The fiery temptress lulls me from my writing
She dances her shadowy skirts
feathering across the walls of my bedroom
Wax fading, light dimming

So seductive is her lullaby
My pen trails
My love fades
aimed instead at the low light
her orange glow, a goddess's
and my droopy eyes wilt
smiling in her warmth
Textured flame,
the air of burning dark
softly ashes drip, melt
dusty ivory and haggard looks
lonely bones like stepping stones
encased they lay

an avenue of haloed ground
features burnt
sing of January's frozen shroud
stagger on
agony claim
faint, and frail
tempest paved
The colors of your hair
burnt and tarnished brown
wrapped up in curls and tendrils
like oak branches twisted in a crown

My gaze I could not hinder
the vitality in your stare
heavy durable and textured
I'm irrevocably hooked and snared

The shades of your skin
flush rustic patterns dance
smooth but rugged finish
the mere possibility of a chance

If only once to touch and finger
through your oak branch hair
to brush against the oaken leather
exposed skin left out and bare

Across an expanse I can admire
in a small fleeting instance
As the light shifts your colors
worshiping forever from a distance
Have you ever met a shadow,
one that was not your own?
Such complicated creatures,
such dark and twisted souls.

No eyes, no mouth to speak
they stalk in silent haunting.
Shadows know no bounds,
they walk beside in taunting.

Have you ever ask a shadow,
who or what they are?
Have they ever answered
or left you with a scar?

We like our shadows,
know no bounds
We haunt and stalk in silence
shading these hollow grounds.
shadows
Her sun-kissed face was painted shy.
Closed eyed, her lashes shimmer.
Redden lips pucker,
our feelings glimmer.

Limbs brush, grind then speak.
I place my hand under cheak
and spank the skin with my own.

Our cloaks of royal stitching
mingle exposing, panels of flesh
Twined minds wrapped
a couple meshed.
I was trying my hand at subtle adult, inspired by love.
Darkness lays heavy
upon my heart
as the bleak night seeps

no light in sight
not dim nor stark
my faith fades
here in the this dark

Dearest darkness
my only friend
shakes my faith
before I leap

he whispers close
Light will come
day will break
just please believe
Just please believe!
Nothing more precious than moonstone,
she'd say
Nothing more precious than moonstone.
Deep in her sleep, she'd mumble the phrase,
over and over as if in a craze
Nothing more precious...

What is moonstone to gold, I would think to myself
as her words sputtered broken but heartfelt.
...precious...

I glance at the stone, placed by her bed
kept close and safe, tucked near her head
Moonstone silvery woven like thread
blinds me cold, steals my sight, knocks me dead.

Lovely lips part
the **** is her art.
Nothing more precious...
she brushes close, her breath chokes.
I finish her phrase, dying slow
my finale breath utters in madness
...moonstone.
nothing more precious than moonstone, nothing more dangerous.
Its like standing on a sheet of glass
over a black abyss,
looking at the ground,
glass cracking all around,
all you see is down.

The abyss, endless
nothing beautiful like outer space
no glittered stars
no friendly face
glass cracking all around
all you see is down.

You think silently,
the situation sinking in.
You wish sullenly
to be free of your skin
The abyss, endless
on the edge, breathless
I often end up describing the feeling of depression. It's not feeling sad, its more like standing over an abyss. You watch yourself slowly sink further in, the abyss is cold and lonely but glass is cracking and your going down.
My recent reluctance plays on repeat
My shaken hands radiate with heat
I choke on my words
Throat thick with lies
I swallow them down
Gagging on my pride
Regret in my chest
I attempt to catch my breath
Praying for solace
My head to the ground
I'm stuck in this moment
I don't want to be found
When your feeling guilty.
I plead with my bottle, never empty
The glass neck has a lush feel
I strangle it like a lover
victim still in hand, bleeding to my pleasure
the fill,
the thrill
The deepest cuts, like drippings
gnawed tapered hangings
darkest meats, dragging
separating from bone

Boiled sores, slit scars
sewn together like cotton threads
Needles stab holes (pave avenues) for drugs
We hand sickness a gun

They slip, slump away
like Christmas day, here and gone.
We might remember
or not.
We might just live on.

I'm alive, I guess
slowly rot,
green to purple, putrid flesh

Spots that maggots eat, or lay
but still I live, a walking corpse
down crippled way.

The avenue whines
the boardwalk abandoned
like holy shrines, sings
a language long forgot
The younger can not help,
their flesh hangs, wet

The stones we walk, layered cement
over battles fought
Soggy terrain flooded plain
memories nurtured with death, fead.
Lush meadows green,
nurtured by the bodies we left,
hanging flesh

Drippings, of the deepest cut
My thoughts illuminate a face of cool regret
while feelings grow hot behind her shaded eyes.

I know not what to say
Her windows do not glow with emotions
Wisdom has gone home, afraid to entertain without the sweetness of ice cream.

A distortion of combating ideas
floating here and there,
salient among the scatter objects
left today, to be swept under the rug tomorrow.

I could say I am sorry
and she could forgive
but Rome wasn't built in a day.

I'll open my windows instead of my mouth
no words, just open books
staring.
About wanting to say something, but instead letting your eyes say it.
Skin and bones, walks but roams
Starved from lack of touch
Empty holes wither away
as hunger overtakes
thin, so thin
claws flay the space
in between now and yesterday

Never look down
unexpected horrors, animate the sounds
as she walks the earthly grounds
searching
famished
unbound

Framed thin,
roughness scored
not thin enough, but fat enough
to gorge.
If remorse, never weighs
feather light, guilt repeats her phrase
such tastes, such toughs
I've felt before
Like ****** raw steak
ate with a fork

salivate such vivid plates
worry it to be your last
longing's wrath
The sweet daisy with her bright smile and white collar, marks the birth of spring.
She sheds her tender petals in the breeze.  
Sailing graceful like a summer snow.
When the dark skies fold over the shimmer of the sun, you may find the daisies turning colors.
Her sunny mood, dampened.
White and pure no longer.
On dark days, marked with grief
You may come to find a field of blue daisies, blowing paled, darkened petals like the rain.
For in her eyes
lie solemn cries
Irises of icey blue

With in her mind
You will find
Voices playing tunes

First, they sing
Last, they sting
Screaming, screaming
Hear them ring

They tell her lies and sprinkle truth
They lure her soul into the blue

Can you see her eyes
How they truly cry
Irises of icey white

Can you find
With in her mind
The answers of the night
It might need work
Looking back over my shoulder,
I hear my mother.
Her sweet voice, rippling in memory.
"Never look back" she said.
"What's behind will fade"
...keep your head toward the future
...eyes open to the unknown.

And still, with the voice whispering
I turn slow, unable to let go.

The moment passed too chaste.
I wish for more time to linger on your face.
The light it clips,
sparkles the lint like stars,
and somewhere behind me,
a part of my future shines.

Fate has blessed our encounter
magnets pulling
you behind
me ahead,
Looking over my shoulder
our worlds intersect
Last night I sat lonely
Wishing for things that could never be
Out my window the moonlight bright on the garden stones
speaks to me

I putter to the gates
Perhaps among the rose bushes
And Lilly beds, I will find
nourishment in nature.

I sit in casted moonbeams
still wishing for things, that could never be
no solace in the garden green
just alone beneath
a midnight scene
Sometimes nature is magical and you think it will bring a peace. Sometime it does and other times not so much.
Is a genie blue?
such myths are unclear.
Will a genie grant your wishes?
ridiculous or pure.

In a bottled prison,
will a genie stay?
lounging in cramped conditions
will a genie grey?

Be mindful what is wished
watch each word that is missed
Genies tend to twist a promise.
magic fogs ellipse

Dizzy are these questions
certain I must be,
before I set to seek
a genie just for me.
I was given a word and asked to write a short poem. My word was genie.
Each link of steely metal
worn, not in fashion
worn in purgatory
each link has it's purpose
to weigh her down
to crush her small

Locked chains draped round
the tiny waist, the delicate fist
Heavy chains placed so well
Worn not by choice
Worn not in sin
But given

A sentencing carried out
Guilty found
She's the judge
There is no jury
Bound to carry
Each link, each pain
A woman bound
To her own chains
A woman in chains. Much of what binds us is of our own making.
Conscious or not, my will had a way
feet tend to limp along
dragging a shuffled sound

If power comes from within
where is it hiding
perhaps hanging by the bay
waiting for a ship to carry her
wave by wave
Wishful thoughts float inside a pretty melody
Sullen voices pour the silky wine for me
This darken red fills me
And your absence will drown me

The stool in which I sit
Has a deep impression
As if my *** were made for it
The feel of my glass is wet
As my breast is set
heaving with regret

Have you ever felt my sorrow?
Has someone ever broken what was borrowed?
Holding clutching then crushing
A delicate flower

This hollow withers still
No matter how much wine I fill
No matter how many tears are spilt
No matter really, if time can heal

Because agian this feel will rise
Above the sunny beauty of life
Its burrowed in deep
Depriving of sleep
Holding and clutching then claiming
My keep

If I see you again, with hope in your face
If we pass by, the same little place
Please remember our laughs and forget the mistakes
For my hallowling heart needs
to mend from its breaks
Heartbreaks, cut deep
I can't remember if I told you,
but I like it when you stay.
You don't have to say anything
only music should play
You don't have to pretend anything
only our truest selves remain

I can't remember if I told you,
but I like to see your face.
You don't need any makeup on
only bare skin to grace
You don't have to look anyway
only your truest self remains

I can't remember if I told you,
but I love it when you stay.
You are next to me,
only soft hands at play
You don't have to look away
my loving touch will remain

I need you to stay.
A love cry
It's not easy admitting the spots of your being
that make you dark.
Sometimes there is beauty in the starry nights
while alluring and alive,
these far away places free the thoughts that cage the mind .

I'll stare and wonder, swirling in the starry luster, light years from my pain
Are my problems, problems at all?
Perhaps life is bigger than the rot cratered in the sands.

The blackened sea so vast and strange
Can calm the smoke of heavy emotions
I'll stand and whisper a simple phrase.
I am not alone
If I lay still enough
here in this pitch black vacuum
they call my room.
If I lay still enough
will I disappear?
Fade into the background
mist into memory.

The dark is not that bad
If you imagine it a sun
evaporate that you can't contain
The dark is soothing
If you think of it as medicine
as solace.
A pocket of space
where nothing exists
And you with it

I can lay here, calm
Not afraid of monsters lurking
The only real monsters live inside
They speak too loud.
The darkness crushes all
And I let it

In my pitch black room
I don't exist
And no one can say goodbye
Sometimes you just want to disappear.
When you're a half of a whole
Composer comes and goes
Tempers stand in the way
Then beneath the layers
of unshed pains
together you face today

Each step, a mirrored dance
Each breath, a fighting chance
Laced with another
Tied together

It can be suffocating
Your every thought invaded
By the considerations of another

Days that bring rain
Weigh down heavy on love
When it's forgot

When you choose to be one half
You take the good and the bad
You will never be one soul again
And your comforted by only him

While he frustrates
While he yells and berates
He koves you and you see it on his face

When you're a half of a whole
Your life is not your own
It is a gift given
And you share it
Willing
Thoughts about relationships
The winds sing, oooo
The night purred low
slow and soaked
I heave a sign
Collecting a broken choke
And continue home
My mind like smoke
Alone
I listen to regret
Playing in my head
The world so still
The night so dead
Sings a sorrow song
To the moon
The winds sing oooo
It could be a song
I only want to scream
till my throat, so raw it bleeds
Anger mopes buried deep
it molds to me, as I breath
Choking slowly, I thirst to scream
let out the need
and then repeat
and then repeat
let out the need
I only thirst to scream
choking slowly, it molds to me
as I breath
Anger mopes buried deep
till my throat, so raw it bleeds

I SCREAM!
When you can't hold in your anger, and all you want to do is....
I will walk across threshholds long forgot
armed with the conviction, that kindness is not lost
I will stand tall against those who wish my fall
wielding a magic tucked inside my chest wall

I will not surrender, I will not bleed
once overcome a dark relenting need

I will cross thresholds never broke
I will shout the words no one ever spoke
rumbling low, a vibrating scream
echoing wide inside my dreams
Have you ever reached
beneath the underneath
of a desk or table?
as you reached,
underneath
the lush wooden maple

Find no treat you'd like to keep
Nor gift you'd want to have
Nothing good,
I wouldn't encourage
one reach or grab.

Gum is there to meet your thumb
soaked in germs and goo
residue left mocking you
smells of grandpa's chew

May my learning be your warning
not to reach nor grab
beneath the underneaths
of a gummy trap
I think it's funny. Someone ask me once to write about the most important lesson I had learned. I thought it was a dumb prompt so I went the funny route.
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