Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Coffee and cigarettes
go together
like
chewed fingernails
and
darkly
circled eyes.
 Apr 2014 bekka walker
Luna Lynn
I was sixteen and
in love with the idea
seeds become flowers
(C) Maxwell 2014
 Apr 2014 bekka walker
Shayda H
Neutrons, protons, croutons, electrons. Electronic. Electric. Electricity.
Creativity?
Negativity.
An electronic .
A psychotic electronic.
I don't want my body to become a piece of metal.
It doesn't make me feel settle.
I don't want wires to control my movement.
I don't want a computer as a brain.
If it rains outside, I would completely malfunction.
I am a human, with human thoughts an concerns.
I am a human with human feelings and a human body.
I have human body organs as well.
I guess it is interesting that humans are evolving.
But I also find it to be a mess.
What will happen when my human body parts and organs become replaced with computers and electronics that are controlled by the high class society and the government?
We will become robots;
An army for the government.
We will be forced to do however they please.
What about us?
Should we fuss?
Or should we not worry about the fact that we wont have the right to speak up any more?
We wont have feelings, thoughts and concerns.
We can't even control our own movement.
We can't even control our own choices.
It is all decided by them.
We don't have the right to know when something wrong is in sight.
And we can't say anything about it.
Say goodbye to human rights!
Say goodbye to freedom of speech!
Say goodbye to being human at all!
They don't care,
they don't want to feel powerless.  
So they take away everything that is important to us.
And you think that technology developing is cool
I would like to remain human.
I don't want to be part of the *Electronica!
A bit more of a rant than a poem.
I sat next to him at my kitchen table, his left arm around my shoulder, my body pressed into his comforting cradle.
A warm silence filled the room..
Innocent childrens laughter in the distance.
I looked into his soft blue eyes..studied the creases of his crows feet...the natural age where stress had taken its toll...
He looked at me and ever so gently told me
"Your not a mistake, sometimes Gods plan is just bigger than what we realize"

My heart cracked..once again.
It was so loud this time it echoed in my ears..that familiar tightening began to form in my chest...as if my body was fighting to hold my heart together..the pain of grief shot into my throat..I was being strangled.. I fought as hard as I could not to break down and wail..Wail..Weep and Scream at my regrets..
The air was still..there was silence.
My eyes welled up with known tears...
I looked at him again..hoping he couldn't feel the fragments of my broken heart spilling into my skin...
I prayed again..silently..
Remembering...He is as close as the mention of his name..
Gods Grace laid between us..
I could feel his nestle..
His encompassing mercy fabricating this very moment.

He is the Healer.
3/17/13
Copyright © Natasha Ivory Evans 2013
I remember the room,
the way it smelled
so fresh
& you
so ripe
lying there
in all your splendor.

O Darling,
that sweet fragrance
burns,
has left a brand
on my brain,
I'll never get
over the searing,
'cause
I loved your heat.
She sits
The need to be seen
To be touched
To be reminded that she still exists
Eats at her
Her body is a broken mess of  sharp edges
Eyes thickly lined in black
Stomach drawn in
Lips painted the color of ***
Hoping her foundation will cover her sin
And she wonders
Could anyone find this tragedy beautiful?

I am she
The girl with the scarred skin
Could anyone find this body beautiful?
Playing Russian roulette with death
I am easy to forget
Body used as currency
I pay for a moment of their affection
Their touch burns my skin
But I'm a glutton for pain so I let them in
And I hate myself for this
But I really only know how to exist when I am wanted

She sits
Eyes cast downward
Lest someone see the truth that lie behind them
See the fear
And the shame
The need to be held
To be loved
To be somebody's somebody
Eats at her
And she is broken
And sad
And lonely

I am she
Next page