Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Bella Tanner Feb 4
Condensation, accumulation of water,
To form a cloud.
Light, airy,  thin wisps between your fingers.
And yet they are far away, almost a mere memory in the sky.
Shapes and colors like a child's imagination,
The foundation of life.

Who tells what clouds get to be?
They don't see that they form themselves,
Like us, with shelves of memories,
That molded them like my memories,
Those memories are not the fluffy white clouds that you like to see.
No, instead they are the overcondensation
Water droplets threatening to spill
With its brother lightning
And cousin thunder
The frustrating friction of life.
Bella Tanner Dec 2018
The white screen stands there…
    It gives me no pleasure to look at it,
                The temptation of the white woman,
Just waiting to be painted on,
A human canvas,
The white innocence laid out for all to see.
                    As soon as the words flow,
             The innocence is lost and colors splatter the canvas,
     Spectrum floods the eyes
meaning splatters the foundation.



            The white woman is stained,
    The innocence drowned in sin.
                No longer white,
        She dances among the others,
                    Showing off her feathers
            Pride and joy in each step,
    Meaning left behind, and determination in her leaps.
        No longer white,
                The painted poem smiles at me.













Painted
Bella Tanner Sep 2018
Living among strangers,
Around the next corner, danger.
A flower and weeds, somehow coexisting,
But the roots are twisting around me,
Coils in the soil threaten to ****,
We don’t know what’s happening,
Our eyes not to the sky, blind.
Not being able to see the kind things in life.
Void of your death by asphyxiation,
Permanent destination.

Everyone on the street are deep in their phones,
Walking alone,
Their mind not at home,
The touch screens make humanity,
Lose touch with themselves,
Oh the irony
While social media does the opposite of connect,
We don’t give respect anymore,
A negative effect,
Where we could care less,
Until being on the edge of death,
Your last breath.

When will we pick our heads up?
When will it click that there’s more to life,
That our clock is ticking,
And we need to quick realize,
That we need to live in the now.
Bella Tanner Sep 2018
A little girl holds her mother’s hand,
As they walk through the city,
With hours passing by like the cars in the street,
Mother and daughter make their way through
The afternoon bustle
Mothers and fathers, sons and daughters,
All living.

The little girl sees everything around her,
Many things she doesn’t understand
Like why that man is screaming at his beloved,
Or why that woman covers her beautiful hair
While she is outside buying groceries.
She wonders if she, too will live like that.
But the crowd screams like tortured cattle
As a tall thing in black,
Rips open its jacket, and screams those words.
It’s too late to run,
Was this her fate?

The little girl wakes up, looking at a half sky,
Now partially blind.
Smoke fumes curl like an angry cat’s tail,
She can hear screams of, “Help! Help me!”
Ringing ears, like a nonstop telephone.
But at least she can hear.
The man that was screaming at his wife,
Now holds her, dead, screaming to trade his life.
The woman buying groceries
Is most likely dead,
The once tall building is now rubble,
Dust rests around the crumbled store.

The little girl sits in a camp with strangers,
Her home behind her, and a lamp lighting a new path.
Her mother is in a body bag,
Among many others back in that street.
The shadows whisper.
Bella Tanner Sep 2018
The forest is my escape from life,
I go there to breath in the air and get away from strife,
The trees of many shapes and sizes don’t argue, they don’t fight.
The coexistence in the forest leads me to believe that there is some light
In the world, where we people dry up everything they touch,
The animals may seem like discord, blood and too much.
But there is some peace in the conflict, some light in the dark.

I go to the forest to look at the shrubbery,
It may seem like just a few leaves attached to sticks as a way to appease
Our eyes in this black world, but there’s more to life than just colors and shapes.
The small cells in each leaf show signs of life, living in peace while we **** each other. Apes.
That’s what we are, creatures that only think of themselves, **** or be killed, selfish animals
But in a world where we are given so much hope and light, we choose the cannibals...

The air begins to feel a little thin in this world full of and grime,
Words are too much for people, emojis and expressions do the trick, turning into mimes.
People say that history repeats itself in many ways,
But in reality we fall through an endless cycle of forgetting what we’ve learned, days and days
Turn into months, turn into years, folding into decades, into centuries…
The forest learns after time, adapting to the problem at hand while we just make more enemies
If only we could learn from the forest, not the ocean.
We drown in the blood that drips from our friends and families that we choose to ****.

I still ignore these problems, back and forth in my mind but nothing comes out of these thoughts,
Overthinking, too much blinking, I feel like selfish ambition is taking my vision,
Maybe one day I’ll unravel all of these useless knots
My brain making a final decision,
But for now, I’ll admire the beauty in the forest and stare at the detailed bark.
Bella Tanner Sep 2018
You can see the congregation, accumulation of lights,
Like a astronomical version of a jar of fireflies,
Waiting for hours to just see a slight movement of galaxies in the sky,
A city of stars for you to gaze at all night,
Keep your head up at the little lights,
You little stargazer,
Because waiting helps you to find the miracles in life.
You may be the size of stardust,
Surrounded by trillions of stars, and it might be too much for you at the moment
But remember that when you look down,
You might run into a wall, and you won’t be able to find your way,
As your ancestors once did,
The small specs of burning elements guiding their every move.
Keep your head up, little stargazer,
Because finding your way at night will help you know who you are,
Sail across the seas,
Walk through the deepest caverns,
Explore every nook and cranny to find your center,
Just keep your head up, and look to the stars for guidance,
Because they aren’t just a city of stars,
You name the stars in the sky to find your way,
To guide your life,
To learn more about the world and the existence of everything around you.
Just keep your head up.

— The End —