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1.7k · Apr 2022
Thunderstorm in the glass.
Odd Odyssey Poet Apr 2022
Crackling; it cracks, and cracks,
shaking the centre of glass,
Shaking the voice of words to comprehend.
As like in the ocean's centre,— undermined of where
it begins or ends.

Falling to the ground; a strike through darkest
weary clouds. It falls to the ground; loud as Lucifer
had fallen out of Heaven,— as with all those angels
kicked out.

Rumbling, and rumbling, falling lightening like
mountains. Rocks that are tumbling, tumbling,
and tumbling to crush.
A crushing feeling is on my skin; peering through
clear glass shadows.

The first echo of thunder; has left a crack on my
windows.

1.7k · Jun 2021
Naked scars
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2021
How exposed are you,
all that lies in your heart?
All the pains and hurt it knows,
all of what you are.

To the naked eye of I,
I see in you a spark of fire.
As it longs to see you exposed,
but not when you remove your clothes.

Save that for later.

Let out your emotions,
leave them bare.
The bare essentials of you,
the deepest parts of your soul.

The battle scars carved throughout,
all that you've fought.
All that you've conquered,
all of which shows me your worth.

I'll make the effort worth the time,
awe-inspiring, for you're so sublime.
But it only gets to be as such
if you really don't mind.

My naked scars on display,
a showcase of my being.

We could be naked together.
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2021
And a rib was pulled from a side,
Soon was molded to be his Lover:
Tiny whispers calling beautiful bride,
Now with my hand so soft and bare,
I tend to land, 'these grounds of heart.'

Lay down my eyes, hoping now to see,
The widest eyes, lookers of everything:
'O, stop looking for perfect fish of the Sea'
Rubbing salt in a wound, that won't heal.

All we are; are two skies far apart,
Longing to be one being and in flesh,
A piece self trading into your heart:
Love was first made, we came second.

Children all of our Adam and Eve,
The seeds of a garden forgotten:
But even as I don't see my paradise,
Darling you'll always be my Eden.
1.7k · Aug 2021
Osculate
Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 2021
How do lips,
closely rhyme with kiss;
Yet the tongue;
in between makes a hiss,
I do wonder;
did we both submiss?
1.6k · Dec 2021
Rainy days
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2021
the chitter chatter,
of the day,

are conversations of-
sun and rain,

that greeted the ground of,
this splendid rainy day.
1.6k · Aug 2021
Voyage
Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 2021
Could be-
On a journey for love;
Just let me find my feet.
Odd Odyssey Poet Mar 2022
The many moving things,
moving scenes; that are stuck in between my eyes.
Look at life; and it's fragile creations,
through the window's glass.
Held on the weight of time,
those holding onto their past. But it all must change;
from the old seasons to those anew.
The many winters of cold, soon surpasses on the grass.

So many pictures, so many little things,
and so many moments. All caught in the prettiness
of an everlasting flower.
A tower plant, trying to kiss the glorious sun,
the Son of Man, and the sweetest rose.

The holies of all holies; resides inside of me.
Walking the testimonials upon my feet.
For how far have I gone to seek?
I've seen blackness, as a changing tide of darkness.
A ***** sheet; barely covering the littlest sin. But there's
still the greatest of all light within.

A Christ within me.

How are my eyes shut to the window;
and their curtains covering itself on a dream?
A dream to be free.

Freedom of will.
Freedom of speech.
Freedom to choose peace.

I scratch the tiny hairs under my chin,
biting the collar of my shirt with my dry lips.
There's no duty to being empty all your life.
No command to live that way, or any sort of drill.

But there's a thirst on my tongue,  
running down to my heart. My spirit's cup is waiting
to be overfilled. And to go on and spill.

I as myself,
only long to be spirit filled.
Holy Spirit come inside of me.

A thousand pictures in the window,
and I only long for the one picture of Him.
1.6k · Apr 2022
Story of events
Odd Odyssey Poet Apr 2022
I'm drinking young, as my body gets older,
three girls, and immature conversation on a long sofa.
The drinks get colder, and colder, my chest gets warmer;
on whiskey shots with no body armour.
I taste a sound, and smell a colour of doing in my head
over social trends,
Partying with people who aren't really my friends.
My bladder feels like a knife tip on my hanging joys,
Taking long pees, and taking chances with any girl; when I've
got the confidence of the boys.

Disco lights under the party life, a quick mix to dilute my
drink with some sprite.
Not something I love, but I'm learning to like.
Hype me up with cheers, line out my favourite gin, and
put aside those heavy beers.
I've got a sweet tongue for fun, a mix of sweetness and
alcohol like my favourite chocolate. Raisin and ***.

Too scared to cough; I might just throw up,
but I can't seem weak; so I'll just bro up.
Acting proud while yelling, "another cup"

I pass out, and wake up in a house that's not my house.
In a bed wrapped in a pink fluffy towel.
The someone by my side, if I can remember wasn't too
hot; but sort of mild.
By my skin marks; she seemed a little wild.

But I notice a wig on a mannequin head,
I peep to see that it wasn't the same girl from last night
lying besides me, on that bed.
She had her extras off on the dressing room table display,
She woke up saying, "good morning bae," and I went on exclaiming, "eeeyy"

She offered me breakfast, but I decided it was best
to break fast out of there.
She begged me to stay,  as her one charming prince,
but you know I didn't even care.

I wasn't too sure which neighbourhood I wound up;
but it was rather me getting **** in unfamiliar corners,
then getting bound up.
******* in a relationship that I never signed up to.
Maybe I had too much to drink... with both drinks and her
kisses by the mouthful.

How the story goes, and soon ends,
All in the story of events.
This was inspired by a real-life story I was told. Just added my own personality and feel to it.
1.6k · Apr 2022
Sheeps & Wolves
Odd Odyssey Poet Apr 2022
I pray to my Lord; as the prey in this crazy
world, dressed in sheep's clothing of all
those wolves.
All lurking around with no good.

Shepherd guide me; I don't always know
where to go. Staff of mercy; disciplines hurt
of the rod, but keeps me on my track to God.

Teeth marks; and ****** holes in my leg,
went chasing on greener pastures. But instead;
I was caught down on my defence.
Wolves only see red; as they have their prey out as
a spread.

The prey prays not to be prey; by the longest
prayer of all the sheep's prayers.

1.6k · Jun 2022
Yaaayy!
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2022
Disengage; why diss an age for not being at the same
pace of your particular race,
Disarray; what play do you stand for in the game of
fitting in life's tight space,
Display; is on every man's pride on the wall;
painting the bricks you've built on false confidence to portray.

In these days pretending we're all okay,
"how are you really," we should really tell our cherished people,
But the words are too heavy to say. Too heavy to be brave,
too ashamed to pray. The African mindset of sitting on a
journey's first step, and yelling, "God will make a way"

We're far away from the potential we choose not to chase,
a waste of yourself. ******* attitude; rotting the mind to
decay. Calling the black and white lines, yet we're forcing
ourselves in between truth and lies. Life is grey.

Life is strange, life is wonderful, but at times a cause of
man's dismay. Still cherish it for it's all, and appreciate today.
It's someone's birthday today, anywhere in any moment. So
celebrate each moment like the event we all cheer,
"hip hip hooray"

Yaaayy!
1.6k · Jun 2022
Purple haiku
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2022
Purple flower—
lonesome afterimage;
a fighter with a purple eye.
1.5k · May 2022
Strange
Odd Odyssey Poet May 2022
I act shy around
strangers,
strangely enough
amongst my peers,
but around you
I'm not as shy;
to be strangely in
love with
you.

strange?
1.5k · Mar 2022
HER.
Odd Odyssey Poet Mar 2022
Fair;
as the skins
of solid ice,
her cold shivers; to a loving
touch.
A whisper of beauty;
only heard by
the eyes
gazing on her.
1.5k · May 2022
Blue Nissan wedding vows
Odd Odyssey Poet May 2022
Leather seating, closure in these moments
while we’re on the longest of this drive,
Maps stuffed in the glove compartment; where
shall we go on this long road?

Not giving hearts, but giving you my word,
in a blue chassis ride, skipping gears to get to five.
Going down hill, and I’ll put it down into glide.

I’m not as neutral, to express my eyes, reflecting
all the pretty mirrors of your body.
Lap sitting, holding onto my steering wheel,
hand on a rear; wipers set on low. And I’ll kiss you
one last time, as if the last becomes the first.

Blue Nissan, tell me if you’ve even been in a
ride like this before? When your empty pockets are
full, and you’re driving a car you could never afford.

I promised myself, not to do the wrongs I do to
myself to someone I love.
To not go on stealing hearts, as if this world
doesn’t have too many bandits.

My hands are vowed to only rest their desires
on you. These lips are a secret only to know
your ears.

This love I can only gladly give to my God,
You, and His people.

Death isn’t an end to us, but just a new beginning
we can only get to one by one.
So keep my seat warm up in Heaven, and I’ll keep
yours too if it’s me to go before you.

Whether sickness is chasing my lungs,
cancers diagnosed on my list of problems,
Let’s just be running towards the days of life you
and I both still have.

And like this drive,
with no rush to our final destination,
But enjoyment of all we’ll experience on this
road of life.
1.5k · Dec 2021
Sweet
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2021
I imagine the witty hooks
of young ones in love.

He tells her, "aren't you a strawberry
looking like a cherry on top!"


"We're in this jam together,
light of my eye my Sunjam."

And how with a loaf of words,
he'd end with,

"I'll let nothing get in between us;
but be between two slices of bread."

                                              Turning cheeks red and sweet.
Odd Odyssey Poet Apr 2023
Seems I've already been here before,
searching endlessly in a void
A man trapped by the eyes of those who still see a boy

I guess I'm still yet to grow

There's an echo bouncing off the wall; back and forth
Swinging by, and whispering a sweet lie;
it could be the monsters, or just the voices in my head

Either way,
none of those sounds playing,
leaves me feeling a little bit scared

I should say a prayer,
but I've preyed on so much precious time,
I'm only left chasing the few seconds I have left
While being stuck in between an acute happiness,
and all the feelings of being depressed

There isn't an angle to explain how loudly
I want to scream at people's faces
Describing the colours of their aura,
mostly in their displaying hatred

But then again,
it may come out a little racist

I've come to find myself writing love letters to the dark

And the result:

the ugliness of the morning
to see such a beauty, of my dark art

                       ...bite your tongue,
                          as there are no other words
                          to speak of this
  
Just quietly shut your mind,
and open your eyes

                             This is the unholy piece
1.5k · Jul 2022
Love making
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
Do you feel nostalgia every time you walk into the room,
as the pillow talks of our make believe? Tender kisses,
biting desires and creases of time stuck in the sheets.

The echo drops of dripping walls, the yearning calls
of passionate eyes—burning embers of your red skin.
Blushing lips; a crushing weight of the burdens I try to shake.
One screams a name, or in turn whispers it's calm in the first hug
of embrace. The shape of bodies, outlined reminiscences on a bed.

Oh-the sense of appeal, peeling away an oozing flux of one's
*** appeal. Branching out into words--your'e barking up the wrong
tree. No harsher than the bark, but a bite to force you to leave.
Duped by the words lost in kisses; I meant to say lead.

To places of touch; a rush of the brushing eyes...you've swept me
by your night gown's sight. My love for you, inside the like of it's
silk fabric. Covering your face under the blankets, but the glow of
your skin—you could never mask it.

Strength lost in the weakness of love. Making two for the best
of one, as when the two flesh become one.

                                                   Now that's making love.
1.5k · Nov 2022
Alcoholic Memo
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2022
he tried to be a loner—his demons
wouldn't leave him alone
caught in the action of girl's bodies
moving slow. swimming depths of
chlorine; and drowning himself in
alcohol

                           ...it's all so brief
1.5k · Jul 2022
Authenticity
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
Till seasons come, and those that go,
in dreary skies, clearing forecast, and behind
clouds of snow. The sun still shines through it
all—true to personality, values, and spirit, regardless
of the pressures in the surrounding atmosphere.

Authentic as the day it was born,
authenticity—aren't we all authentic as the SON,
who will come again, as He came before!
1.5k · Apr 2021
Second half of love
Odd Odyssey Poet Apr 2021
Time will always fade away,
as I'm close to you.
Where all the seconds go,
is too far for me to see.

Only a couple seconds away,
babe you have me second guessing myself.

As I write this in a couple seconds,
the minute has past me a few.
Words like the time
feel endless by every line.

Only in the couple seconds,
I'm in the second half of this love game.
1.5k · Oct 2021
Pretty Orange
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2021
Fires rest under skin;
Blessed a kiss of Sun

In the dark;
I am light. ..

Bright & gentle flower;
Hand-picked by God

                   In the dark;
                   I am life.

Sorrows, I've carried;
but only for a time

             In the dark;
             But still I survive

Pretty Orange,
my colour is-
Clean & well polished.

                               I flourish. ..
1.5k · May 2022
Garden paradise
Odd Odyssey Poet May 2022
Garden roses
my heart is a bunch of thorns,

Sweet white Lillie
my love is of ornamental peace,

Oh my Aster
the brightest star in the dark,

My sweetest Daisy
so affectionate sweetness of your hope,

These tulips are such
a touch of my purple violence,

For blue Iris
is stuck inside of my shadowy eye,

In this paradise,
please my dearest children, keep away
all of those weeds.
1.4k · Nov 2021
Biscuit
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2021
Life is a Biscuit'
Where the privilege are born,
With cream in between:
While the rest have to work'
For their life's filling.
1.4k · Feb 2022
materialism
Odd Odyssey Poet Feb 2022
My love is endless to loving plenty, for itself it does not show,
granted to love a penny. Possessions of man's ***** eyes,
Of their murderous hate— many schemes flesh has to conspire,

A change to thought, (I darest spare, lodged by Christ's
gentle love. I hope to know in the ends of prayer.)

Kind heartened I may prove, with gracious kind words,
As with wickedness stuck in mouths; as it's rotting tooth.
All that are wicked; too hide behind sweetest tongues, and
fairest smiles.

Vile, vile, vile. Oh how the world is so vile,
to us all living in denial. Greed has made them all blind.
1.4k · Aug 2022
Prove!?
Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 2022
Gave you a taste of magic,
Sticks and stones in love—so beautifully tragic.
I’d give my world to be around your planet,
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?
A taste of line stuck in your jaw,
Decorating yourself—there’s a little decore.
I’m your centre piece in place of more,
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

All cuts and lip burns,
I was the very last—of every first,
Stars in perfect alignment; but all by force,
I was lost for words, biting my tongue; but not tasting hurt.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?
It’s a waste being young,
But adulthood is so painful—really no fun,
And I’ll be insecure knowing how not to make a girl ***,
Coming around to my place, and accidents of making a son.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

The high life highlights,
Bite size feelings, drinks of nightlife—so high!
Still scared of heights, and not having the right size,
As the killing factor of any man’s pride.
Why won’t it fit right, it doesn’t feel right, or quiet tight.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

Being around the block,
Waking up to the rooster—tickling ****.
“Where are my socks,“ letting borrow tops,
While topping someone off the top in slob,
Twisting your emotions, as you twisting the ****.
Just a tip cob—ain’t nothing wrong till it repeats tomorrow,
And there’s nothing more left sweet of that fleshy flower.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

Just two curious people trying to prove they're good at ***,
Just an excuse to tidy up themselves after being a mess.
                                              They’re both just a mess!
1.4k · Jul 2022
Beautiful people
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
| Like lightning in your veins;
     you'll strike down the enemy
   The stars in your eyes;
      be with the brightness foresight
          
  The sun in your mouth;
    display summers in your smile

  All the beautiful things,
    all the while makes us all so beautiful

                                                I see beautiful people. |
1.4k · Jul 25
Guns for life
I feel so alone in a world that loves to **** itself,
As I need a gun, to truly feel like I belong;- filling
Up its cold chamber holes, in this revolving world
Six monumental shots, ready to **** myself…

Bullet 1: the war on drugs, is just a war with ourselves

Bullet 2: the war for land, is just a war with the world

Bullet 3: the war for peace, is a war in which death
   will only be the truest peace we’ll know

Bullet 4: the war for survival, is a war of stealing
   and killing, for that desperate dollar

Bullet 5: the war of the flesh, is a war between sanctifying
   the temple, or satisfying myself in lust’s power

Bullet 6: the war of identity, is a war of fighting against
   all the alleged titles- in order to find my true self
1.4k · Aug 2022
Dark rooms
Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 2022
Hotel ***—of neighbours dealing in services, buying into
the idea of momentary love by the high purchases. It's like
swerving in traffic, avoiding real love and looking for some action.
Well out here relaxing, feels **** fun. Sort of tragic, but these are the ways things happen. Imagines.

On the other side, the creep behind the hole in the wall.
The married husband, setting up a *******. She's a young girl,
and a ****** to all—of what it costs to make it big. He's not so big, but will drive into her like a heavy rig. Pay her off, call a cab to
take her back home. Rinse himself, spray a little cologne to cover
up his immorals. And switch his clothes. What she doesn't know, won't hurt his wife at all. Sort of tragic, but these are the ways things happen. Imagines.

But she's in another room downstairs, getting tongue licks
downstairs—downtown. The young man isn't to proud, at least
with the fact he wasn't the first one pointing her down his south.
The fresh taste of adultery in their mouth—his pants are
half down. His business is hanging out; ready to close the deal of
an interesting affair. Then he'll kiss his girlfriend back at their house.
I know she's cheating on me too. Sort of tragic, but these are the ways things happen. Imagines.

The cheating girlfriend is actually over eating in another room
alone. With shoes off, to stand herself and her weight.
Running to the bathroom with a finger down her throat.
A little choke, and upbringing those distasteful words. Her body
isn't her worth, and doesn't feel like the one she deserves.
Sort of tragic, but these are the ways things happen. Imagines.

These are the dark rooms, of all the stories in my head.
A couple stories high, to keep me up on my bed. They turn into
dreams, or have been premonitions for a later reality as it seems.

                                                         ­            Who really knows?
1.4k · May 2018
Seasons .
Odd Odyssey Poet May 2018
Single carols keep on calling.
In the summer time yet Christmas was still falling.

Seasons pass and many more seasons gone,
time washed away in empty rivers, time is all done.
Children playing on rusty swing sets, all having fun,
this seasons lessons are all but none.

And I'm happy for this moment.
I bought tears to cry for, but why still don't I own it.

Cause time is a rollercoaster paired with life, just going up and down,
this season felt so cold and dry, ****** up all the richness from earthly ground.

This season, kids my age got so much time to drop babies inside each other.
Children born, now where be your parents. Where be mother and father.

It's just seasons passing by, so why do you stay here for so long.
Seasons staying and ringing in my ears like that catchy song.

Seasons...
Give me more reasons....
1.4k · Oct 2023
My little piggy
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2023
Stand with me on ten toes
a little piggy that markets a bit of love
And I know we'd kick  it better at home,
while I roast your friends every time we meet,
always having beef with them all
The don't know you truly for yourself,
quite frankly you're better off with none
Still you and I make a perfect we, we can feast like
a little piggy on sweet nothing's, when we're home alone

                    I guess we're still a bit like kids, in love.
Would you like me to write more pieces like this?
1.4k · Jun 2022
US
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2022
US
US

Them: the beautiful time; love being a weight upon wait,
what **** given? It's walls have caved,
upon the piece of walls for a peace from wars.
This is our love, beauty; all in time —this is us.

We're in love...
1.4k · Nov 2022
Suicide mind
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2022
behind dark humour
behind a confident fake smile
behind a humble demeanour
behind growls and random sighs

behind seemingly a character's eager
behind lonely quick responses to one you like
behind oversized clothes over scars on your figure
behind acting like you can walk on a thin wire

behind jokes of saying you're much bigger
behind pretending you're not waking up tired
behind thoughts of shooting shots on a tiny trigger
behind explaining dreams of burning passion—fired

behind a simping hero, playing self villain's vigor
behind seasonal seasoning of a season to cry
behind truthful scripture, and thoughts of a sinner
                                  suicide lurks behind a mind
1.4k · Jan 2023
Ocean moon
Odd Odyssey Poet Jan 2023
Under the tears of  a tiny whisper
may I find peace in your  love
Under it's  surface; waving calm goodbyes and it's scenic few

What washes away old
brings forward something anew
Like as being under the ocean moon-
at times so blue; but in the end it was all so beautiful...
1.4k · May 2017
A Fallen Tree's Story..
Odd Odyssey Poet May 2017
No one is up the mountains to hear the falling trees make a sound,
to tell what a tree's last moments were like.
Rather just some more wood to be found.

Never to question the amount of life you spent o'tree.
The years you lived, the fruits you bore and whether or not you, truly felt free.

Is this what a cruel world could do to you,
leave you so helpless till the day our kind became so few.
A sign of life left in this cruel world,
why must you suffer, like many.You did so much than they even realise and your stories yet to be told.

Why o'tree must we go like this,
trampled despite your size,
O'tree please know you will be surely the one I miss.
May we, still standing here, up this mountain tell stories of you.
May our offspring grow as great as you,
to reach the skies and touch its blue.
1.3k · Sep 2022
Verse 2 [of lost in stars]
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2022
Called by the stars,
seven heavens knowing my name
Amongst the trumpets, and the angels praise
under a name of Grace. I am saved—unafraid,
paved lead by the golden streets of paradise
My body is no longer alive; just a husk bound
by the rules of earth. My spirit arise!

Heaven is warm, the skies bright
I lost my butterfly wings, caught plenty in
the net of time. These are the eagle wings I have now,
to rise to the presence of my Lord; lost in stars!
1.3k · Mar 2022
Morning blessings to poets
Odd Odyssey Poet Mar 2022
May your eyes;
be bright towards the future,
Your past;
only but a memory in the shadows,


Your dreams;
as so bold to move mountains,
Your goals;
as precise as the targets you set,


Your hope's song;
as loud as many heavens roaring,
Your day's courage;
be the first step of chills to hell,


Your words;
the very worthwhile of the mind,
And your echo;
be the reflection of a heart's love,


As I bless all the eyes,
of this poetic piece.
And many more blessings,
upon all my fellow poets.

1.3k · Jul 10
Single cigarette
I bought myself;-
A single cigarette to share with my ex

Being as smoked out, choked up;
And in between coughing throughout
A prayer to God, I'm still not
Addicted to them.
1.3k · Dec 2022
Coloured poet
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2022
"But let me tune you the live about life's simulation,
that assimilates one's worth. Poetry's code isn't of ones
and zeroes, but of all lines and words"
Says the wit of a coloured oan wanting to chuff the girls

It's all about the honeys, and maybe some sweet
success of hustling for a little extra money

Taking a stand on every stanza, I grew up to different standards
Unlike the hood rapper clutching the 48 hammer,
I was taught in my hood how to hold a 48 spanner
I have my odds in odes; every heavy breath in each
coma—not so common
Given the stereotype of dealing and robbing
To steal your stereo if the right type,
and best to drive with caution

A dark skinned coloured
fitting in with the blacks by appearance
Accents do tend to change ears intently hearing
Whites think I'm that way out of a private school fashion
But I did at times hang out with the wrong crowd,
at times on weekends smoking **** and relaxing

And yes I'm actually coloured; to those of you asking
Hit you with a "hey what's up, what's happening"
Don't mind me asking questions with this sort of coloured accent
"Yoo what's the story," we start our conversations
in the morning. A different kind of breed Godsent

I don't force how I speak
But if it disturbs the peace
I'll change my tone of speech
And find solace in writing another poetry piece

                                            @the Coloured poet
1.3k · Jun 2022
Dark flower
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2022
Black valley—
a sheath of dark attar
under the fullest moon. I find so beautiful
in it’s darkening as my spirit’s rind.
Extruded by a forceful wind call,—
hoping to run into that, solely being innocence.
But is it black; liken to a colour that seems so
unclean? Washing bare hands twice; but I can’t wash what I am.

A dark masterpiece,—pretty as many flowers I am,
I am this dark flower. I shine brightest in the dark.
1.3k · Oct 2023
Trapped
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2023
The skies hung heavy and black,
casting a somber mood over the world below.
It was as if the heavens themselves were
burdened with the weight of yesterday's sorrows.
The fields, once vibrant and alive, now wore a grey smile,
a reflection of the tears shed in days gone by.

As night fell, the symphony of crickets filled the air,
their chorus echoing through the stillness.
It was a quiet night, interrupted only by the
gentle handover of the sun to the moon.
The air carried a pleasant scent of dew, a reminder
of the rest that awaited all living things.
And amidst it all, the tiny footsteps of rain danced
upon the asbestos roofing, a thief of nature sneaking
into the sounds of peace.

In the midst of this atmospheric symphony,
a wooden kitchen door ticked with the passage of time.
It creaked open and closed, its rusted iron hinges
adding to the melody.
The door seemed hinged in thought,
attached by fears and darkness.
It formed a latch, and night became its key,
locking away the light and welcoming the shadows.

As I stood there, my feet grew cold,
chilled by the ice-like glass of my fragile character.
A towel hung limply from the handle of the cupboard,
a silent witness to my dry mouth and the skeletons
of my past that haunted me, beyond my control.

But amidst the darkness, comfort found
its way to my side, persistently offering solace.
It was a visitor, never truly staying,
but always there when I needed it.
In my mind, I set up a spare room,
a sanctuary for fleeting moments of respite.
And in those rare moments, a sparing thought
would gently grace my mind, offering a glimmer of hope.

Yet, even in the midst of this fragile peace,
a shadow lurked behind me.
She knew my name, intimately aware of
the battles I fought within myself.
The empty room, once a sanctuary, grew heavy
with the weight of my inner demons.
Like a fallen angel, I descended into the depths
of my own despair, the falling rain mirroring
the tears that stained my soul.
And in a whisper, a secret was revealed in my ear:
depression, depression, depression.

And so, my depressing thoughts found me once again,
enveloping me in their suffocating embrace.
The world around me faded into the background
as I became lost in the labyrinth of my own mind.
1.3k · Aug 2022
Stars 🌟
Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 2022
—let the stars of your celestial align to constellations
    of my sight; drawing the beauty of you. All so like
    the Heavens of it's warmth, I embrace you of warm
    remarks, into the heavenly scented perfumes while
    in your arms. In all of your open encouraging love.

—the desire fill; a fullness of seeing you fulfilled
    in joyous love in yourself, others and that of it
    that came from God. I'm in love with your love.

—set fires that can't be contained. Passionate red,
   burning tears of the redness running down my
   cheeks. I'm at peace; even as this head aches,
   of when you swept me off my feet. Brushed by
   a fade of love. It cuts me in half; straighten me
   to align at your appearance. I rest in your stars.
1.3k · May 2022
Queen bee
Odd Odyssey Poet May 2022
honeycomb lips,
swarms of bees on your tongue,
hives on your heart,
a Queen bee is your soul.

buzzing, buzzing, buzzing,

all in my ears,
now a taste of my tears,
straight after I got stung.

buzzing, buzzing, buzzing,

there she goes,
only protecting her sweet,
nectar is her love,
but I found myself allergic to bees.

buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.
1.3k · Sep 2022
Scars into stars
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2022
My family is pretty tragic, and I don't fare well in any still
Just chasing a piece of magic for that taste of thrill
The amount of times I've done wrong, plays lyrics in
my head like a boring song

We grew impressed by curves saved in secret
vaults of our phone—it's a wonder how I can talk to girls
But it doesn't mean I was good at it before
A war inside of my eyes, I've been through a couple tours
With no resort to recreation, I'll resort to being bored
Life can feel a bourd, jesting kisses getting me hard like a board

Packing the load of weighing burdens
in the haul of dreams searching for a purpose
Penniless thoughts we grew up snatching from life's purses
And the only fear a teen had, was dying a ******

You could blame us being thirsty
always wanting to drown ourselves in success
Dancing swiftness in the crowd, but secretly depressed
I tell you my life before was such a mess
But you could never tease me enough to have that be the only
thing I confess

Thankfully the brokenness of my heart could be conditioned
to bring forth a new piece of a work of art
After every scar, the C of every cut becomes the T of time
for all my scars to become stars

My life is now the scars into stars!
1.3k · Jan 2023
Falling
Odd Odyssey Poet Jan 2023
falling in love,
all the falling
leaves-
it hurts to hit
that ground
falling out of love
all my falling
hairs-
didn't the strands of
our time been so cut
short
your memory resides;
slowly receding

falling in love
all these falling
stars-
once in a sky
of a thousand
wishful kisses
falling out of love
it's a fall out into
trading the tiny dots
of stars, to scars

falling, falling
falling —seems human
to fall in and out
of something

i'm constantly falling;
waiting to be
caught by
true love

1.3k · Jun 15
The drowning black ocean
Drowning in my own depth;-
searching, searching for something that sounds so deep
as a man swallows his pride to be bitten by the ferocious truth
Asking himself that uncomfortable question; “what shall I do
after the days of my troubled youth?”

Time becomes a constant violent silence,
it creeps away; a smile on its lips; pulling in and out- a residing
relationship to the tides. We keep looking for change by a current perception;
what is our see level- often time undermines the confidence and the
knowledge of my mind. But here I am; searching, still searching
in the very tides of time.

Swimming from the past, through the present-
hopefully to the shores of a better future. Searching, constantly
searching- all leaders to those sinking. Would you let me take the
lead though my hands are so cold?

Searching, we’ll forever keep on searching,
in this ocean of black -night swimmers; pretending our inner
demons don’t see us in this ocean.
1.3k · Apr 2023
Saturday 15 Waffles
Odd Odyssey Poet Apr 2023
The wind and the sweetness
in the mix of this somewhat chilly day
I ordered an ice cream waffle; waiting
on my order while waiting on a gaining thought

I’ve gained peace, that which I thought impossible
Watching the passerbys, with a full mouth of ice cream
And behind it’s stain, was a genuine smile

In amongst the chaos of the random wind,
the jumping cheers of children on a jumping castle
The happy scary clown with white on his face
The flies trying to share in on my dessert,
and the eyes of those who had seen me alone

—I wasn’t alone;

Quite frankly I was far from feeling alone,
and feeling any kind of low

As with the tingling chills down my spine
of this really filling meal
It was to me, a moment so real;
I wouldn’t dare pinch myself to see if I was dreaming

And even if it were a dream,
twas a sweet one indeed
As all I needed was:
spoiling myself with something sweet indeed
1.2k · Jul 2022
Forever
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
| Can't stay young forever
be in love forever
remain rich forever
but in the end, I know I'll be myself forever|
1.2k · Jun 2022
Beachside prayer
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2022
Untouched moments, untouched skins,
An untouched moon under one night’s
Ocean blue, and it was just us two.

Beachside sights, toes stuck in salty sands,
Life is an offshore view of foreign lands,
And I threw a watch in the waters to wash off the
seconds. Where sun and moon both kiss the same sky,
Is the light to the open gates of Heaven.

Angels with their great wings; are a soaring escape,
But narrow did this paradise seem afar in my eyes,
Two thousand tears fall, in life's heavy grey rain,
As kingdom come reins, we hold onto all that we have,
Holding hands together to say our daily Lord’s prayer.

“Our father, who art in Heaven,” a place love resides,
And with it the many blessings.
“Thy Lord be thy name,” we call upon Him to be saved
By His grace, gracefully still stuck on Earth.
“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done," I hold tightly,
In a prayer with my imperfect love.

Time is lost in all of a man's final words in death,
A beachside prayer, I'm washed of a past in new tides,
If I drowned in all of my regrets, don't let the anchor of
Sin keep me down at the bottom; Oh Lord. Amen.
1.2k · Jun 2022
Late after 8
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2022
9:15; a quarter mile away from truth.
Conversations are boring, all about what we've done for today.
Innocence of two kids before their moppet words find their youth.

Texts get a little deeper, a minute past ten.
All past experiences, and mistakes are; with heart and soul
expressed. Their companionship sees the other more than a friend.
"I like you," a quickly deleted message, but has been read.
Emoji eyes; "I seen what you wanted unseen," the eyes seemingly said.

Awkward silence, awkward silence; both sides typing and clearing
their response. Nobody presses send; while there's a slap on the
head exclaiming; "not like this, not the beginning of this
relationship's end"

"I didn't mean to make things weird with my emotions.
I'd like you as a lover, but I love how we are as friends in the
open," a brave text sent out of one still hoping.

"But I like you too," the next reply came around late.
Phew! What a relief; least for now. But what happens next,
I guess is the pending question of staying up this late.

It was best to go to bed by eight...
"People are more honest during late night conversations"

Source: https://www.dazzling.news/a1555/9-psychological-facts-about-people-that-totally-make-sense
1.2k · Jun 2021
Solo Midnight
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2021
Under the stars,
when the morning already arose.
Under darkness, a new light grows.
Exposing itself. In the dark there is a rose.

All on my own,
penning the thoughts of my dome.
Angels calling me home,
demons not leaving me alone.
Questioning my livelihood and sanity.
If people knew the me real,
a lot of them wouldn't be proud of me.

What a tragedy!

Crossing through borders,
waiting for what lurks on the other side.
You don't know what you might face,
till the new battles are what you find.

But I've placed all of my worth in that rose.
I hope it's brave enough to grow,
and cuts down the darkness with it's thorns.
In reference to the first stanza,
each line is on it's feet. They stand out!
In the dark, I realize I'm not a kid anymore.
But a rose at times. I must develop,
and fully grow. The old petals die out,
and the new ones will show.

Solo fears, I fear less of them,
feeling less on my own.
The moonlight beckons. She calls.
Open my sights to hope,
to those fears, I close the doors.

Midnight, she calls.

I suppose, I can no longer ignore.
I suppose, I must go.
I suppose, all things call for your soul.
I suppose, for me, the darkness I fear it no more.

Midnight, she calls.

So loud that everything seems to be low.
At the lowest point of my life, my soul tends to glow.

Midnight, she calls.

So loud that it echoes in tiny corners, till it breaks. It has a lot to show us.

Still Midnight, she calls.

In the solo moments I have to listen
out for wisdom.
Feeling in the dark corners of myself, to know what is missing.

The solo Midnight, she always calls. But I'm not solo anymore.
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