My lungs are screaming
But I don't dare to open my mouth
Because the sound of a scream
Filled with sorrow
Loneliness
Pain
Is truly the most horrifying thing
Anyone could ever experience

These days seem more and more
Like I'm sitting on the ocean floor
The weight of the salty water
Crushing down on my chest

The negative bouyance
It chains me down
Not allowing me an inch

The sun doesn't reach me
No light to shine
No warmth to glow.

If only I would have given the effort to stay afloat,
resisting the urge to still my self and let the dark overtake me.

If I would have seen then what I now hold dear.
The silent ponder had has lead me to see.
Acknowledgement of your love is what could have saved me

Still, I sip nicotine clouds;
this calls for calming calculation.
I wave my scythe, slashing though shrouds.
Still I sip nicotine clouds.
Hardly buzzed, I flick at fish flies.
She gladly drifts through prostration.
Still…I sip nicotine clouds
that call for calming calculation.

Waiting depths to rock me closer,
barely breathing surface air.
I’m death’s beautiful composer,
waiting depths to rock me closer.
Mom said, “No one would choose her.”
I’m infected, why should I care?
Wait for depths to rock me closer,
barely breathing surface air.

Mad - Donna
Once the laughter has gone
Turning her back
On a world so wrong  Once a sane life in this world
Took a turn, as a bullied girl
Mad-Donna
Escaped by popping pills
until they took her life
In the alleyway,
infected with chills

Mad-Donna sees
But not what the world may be
Through dilated pupils
And faded memories

Friends of then
Faces so thin
Like the dying soul
Trapped within

Mad-Donna, I wonder

Is it raining in your heart?
I see it pour out your veins
Is it trapped inside your mind?
These memories of insane.

Mad-Donna

Appears everynight
Her spirit of nature
Lives in the sky

The city's killing our earth
City the bullet
Earth our soul
Once where were rainbows
Now a killer roams

Mad-Donna
Once frightened
Now offer her hand
Invisible to some
Helping others understand
No need to see
Just feel
My child
For
Mad-Donna
Is an angel
For the wild child.

#poetry #poem #visonary #narrativepoetry #gbuda #writing #art #words #poet

Shyly quiet,
hunched in servile pretense,
the white coat
of one seagull crunches old
paper, ruffles
wind-bunched feathers and
waits astride
a cliff-top fence while I, car
encased, unwrap
my lunch and admire views
in a welcome break,
but yellow-eyed tactics strut
a strategy, to win
open windows and ******
guilt in people
who throw half-eaten crusts
as easy pickings.
Guile rewarded, fights begin
for wily wings
soon muster to shove others
in screaming war
as one feeding bird becomes
transformed to four
then ravenous dozens until
not a crumb left
as I close the car door on yet
more skirmish.
At hunger's worst, its gnaw
serves self first
by law of nature in the raw.