Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jul 2021
julius
somehow you found me and it was like-
pomegranate suns i could swallow.
i haven't been loved like this in a long time.

i remember when she first smiled sweetly,
danced lightly, and kissed my sour lips
and she said she loved me, but i knew the truth-

she intended to use my body like how mom scoops
out red melon flesh from a rind, to pierce my heart
with black pins and eyes that never looked right.

she whispered secrets to me and found my own.
exploited my nature and soon i was hitting her across the cheek.
she said she liked it and maybe she did, but i was crying.

when i try to speak it all comes up in tangled string
and people don't believe me, even when they can see it.
how could god make me a vessel only to be dissected.

now you're here and i can't even touch you without
flinching, without feeling a phantom fire of the pains
past "lovers" ignited, without a spark, a match.

you have a dark past, twisted through violet fumes.
so do i, but only a reflection of the pages in your book.
i'm tired of living with trauma, when we haven't moved in together.
 May 2020
Arlene Corwin
What else can one say, but …  

    When This Is Over

When this is over
You’ll still have your character
To deal with.
Times will alter,
But there never is an after.
That’s to say, there is,
But business
Is the thing: merely continuing:
Busyness and nothing more.

And there you are,
Left with character,
Its strength and flaw,
To grow, evolve, refine, define
Through change and understanding,
Standing under with humility,
God, destiny, not pining
From mistakes, goals missed
And all the things ones’s pis_ed away from ignorance.

We’ve talents, gifts
To sift through, filter out;
Finding what we’re all about
To work and use
Amusing us and fusing them
To worlds around,
To bond and bind societies;
Bid welcome to the mishy-mashy miscellany,


Watch the mind: it’s shifty, tricky;
Thus, the one security
Is to be found in in purity!
Work on it!

When This Is Over 5.17.2020 Definitely Didactic II; Our Times, Our Culture II; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin
 Jun 2016
Alyssa Underwood
“Come, all you who are thirsty,
    come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
    come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
    without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
    and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to Me, and eat what is good,
    and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to Me;
    listen, that you may live.
I will make an everlasting covenant with you,
    My faithful love promised to David...”

Seek the LORD while He may be found;
    call on Him while He is near.
Let the wicked forsake their ways
    and the unrighteous their thoughts.
Let them turn to the LORD, and He will have mercy on them,
    and to our God, for He will freely pardon.

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways My ways,”
declares the LORD.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are My ways higher than your ways
    and My thoughts than your thoughts.
As the rain and the snow
    come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
    without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is My word that goes out from My mouth:
    It will not return to Me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
You will go out in joy
    and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
    will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
    will clap their hands.
Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper,
    and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the LORD’s renown,
    for an everlasting sign,
    that will endure forever.”


~ New International Version
~~~
 May 2013
Lee
Pendulum hours spring slow forward
seasons swaying trigger festivals
and the dancing banners
on windy streets
spell sales
for slack jawed jugglers
eager to pedal wears to the weary
under the growing sun of a dieing season.
I am a beast in the cage of these streets
one way bars holding back barbarism.
My snarling is better suited for the trees
my guttural bark out car doors at street performers
better suited for stick beaten drum circles
spinning madly under the moon.
I lap from the sewer grates like a lost dog
too proud to die their like my hero
on a post above
to me
the raven quoth, what a bore.
Only men behind electric glass have seen me
on drunken nights
I confess my heart
and dance away my soul(s)
before their iron eye.
In this city I do not sleep
my heart glides to grassy groves
when my eyes close
to lock out the bright and unending
street lights that are suspending
my cowards heart above the darkness i still fear.
I am a child
take me to where the wild things are.
 May 2013
Lee
Good days
staring through a golden veil of sun
at a world panting in heat.
The sky is a baby blue blanket
lying my flying mind to rest.

If you want to
we can lie down together in the sun baked grass
my arms wrapped warm around your body's beating blood beauty
and listen to the dull growl
of a city talking itself into the future.
That chattered fate is not for us.

If you want to,
that moment will be silent
still
and enjoyed free
under a beaming sky bound sun.
We can close our eyes
stop seeing them
stop believing our ears
then
nothing but us
and where we touch
will exist.

*If you want to.
 May 2013
Lee
"Sometimes I wonder if anything is actually real at all... or if it's just me"
" I mean... I doubt anything is real, and even if it is... I don't think any of it has any purpose."
"Ya? Like its all in our imagination... just a big ****** joke."
" Even if it...the world - reality; does exist; in a physical, permanent, sense, It's still all a matter of perspective on why it - or what it - (it being reality) is to you. It changes from person to person, and if you don't like it: you can change it. Which makes it seem even more like... it isn't real..."
"I just wish there was a purpose... I wish I could find a reason for my life."
"No one ever will, I don't think it's possible. The wish for reason, for a light at the end of the tunnel, is the ultimate weakness of man... but it's also the ultimate strength: it's all gratuitous - it's progress - sadness. The search for purpose is a lesson in futility... taught by hope."
" I think... I think I'm just... just tired"
"It is late"
"No, no not like that, not like physically, like of the way things are going, I'm just ******* tired of life."
"I am too... I think everyone is on some level. At least till you reach denial... or acceptance... or the ability to be oblivious - Life is a week of insomnia in an eternity of dreamless sleep - In the end none if it matters. I think if there is a purpose me and you will never be able to find it, we're only humans: we get tired, we get confused, scared, we misinterpret signs, we're filled with error. If we did find a purpose it'd be filtered through our perception, applicable to no one el-"
"You just passed the only store."
"... Sorry... I was too busy paying attention to you."
"Its ok, I didn't need it anyways. It was just an impulse thing."
"Impulses should be acted on though. You don't have much time for procrastinating, and you have to do it now because you never know when your numbers punched."
"...True..."
I pull up slow to the front of your house
we say goodbye
and god do I want to reach out and grab you
want to hold you - and not let go
lie
and tell you I know the reason
a reason
any reason.
Its an urge that spreads energy through my limbs from a pit in the bottom of my stomach
like it's going to shake me or tear me apart.
I want to kiss you,
but I just drive away slow
and contemplate how utterly useless everything really is.
Based on a real conversation I had with a friend one night.
 May 2013
Lee
The day sets sudden into summer shimmering
blind beasts patchy and lost
wander hopelessly along the tarmac trails of rubber foot caravans.
My mind races rancid thoughts forward
the winner takes all
that winter melancholy waving funeral flags at the finish line.
I'll bite down my teeth on the metal masculinity
and taste holiday nostalgia:
burning meat,
drunken rednecks,
fireworks just past dusk,
that mixture of sulfur and black powder,
fumes.
I can't keep on like this,
knees shaky from miles measured in ruby minutes.
I'll eat this city whole,
carbon emission load before my final marathon.
These teeth will shine down like symmetrical clouds in the sky
my mad mans brittle grin.
I used to wish:
for finer living in laps of luxury;
for nights wrapped in silk, sweat, shine, and infamy;
for heavens gates to open pearly white to golden streets for me.
Those days have lost their charm
beaten dreams that bellied up
and showed their starving guts.
Submitted and laid down
with their tails tucked between legs
and panting for mercy
my dreams play bottom ***** to reality's sadistic hand.
As for now;
I hope.
Hope I can hold the fire in my hand
to burn my life and this city to the ground
the pile of ashes will bare no souls return.
That silent hour,
I want to be alone and involved
in the fashion of dogs.
I'll wander off alone to the trees.
My brittle ribs showing
the silent cage of my black and tired heart.
The trees will whisper their names to me
as my spirit shakes their shining leaves in rising.
Goodbye you lion;
your angel face was as quiet as ever,
slack and pale under a harvest moon.
Didn't really know what to call it, so I called it that. I'm open to criticism, you tend to overlook things when you're looking at your own work.
 May 2013
Chaz Kirshcmann
Some friends will never understand
people never can
what you see
is impossible to them

even to the closest friends
what we all see is indifferent
why cant we all just respect it
and not let whats different affect it

I wish people would see what i see
then things would be
a beautiful rainbow of clouds in the sea
like a abstract painting

with tons of colorful fishys
flowing with the current
no one going against it
opening paths that were once forbidden

we can all be accepted
free to be
without judgement here in the sea
adventures for everyone
for all those beautiful beings

a true journey  
with leaves that fall
to let us know
our time is short and sometimes cold
but we have each other to keep warm

forgetting the sun
we have warmth from within
a soul with a smile
that can warm it all

its like im looking through eyes
that are watching something bizarre
a fairy tale world out there
large plants that touch the clouds making my toes curl

color everywhere like a cone of ice cream swirls
with a light that lights it up just for us to make it flavorsome
bugs light up the the sky near when i see myself in the stars, i stare
in awe i notice bugs on the ground near that scare

we are fairys
living in a abstract mystical world
wings are clipped
but i guarantee i will still fly

life is to short for us.
And this.
To be acting like someone don't belong.
we live in a world where everything is different
from who we are to what we do

we live in a world where we really don't even know who we are
or why we are
its such afar
luckily im here for it all

its a gift to me here in the bizarre
1 When life as opening buds is sweet,
2 And golden hopes the fancy greet,
3 And Youth prepares his joys to meet,--
4 Alas! how hard it is to die!

5 When just is seized some valued prize,
6 And duties press, and tender ties
7 Forbid the soul from earth to rise,--
8 How awful then it is to die!

9 When, one by one, those ties are torn,
10 And friend from friend is snatched forlorn,
11 And man is left alone to mourn,--
12 Ah then, how easy 'tis to die!

13 When faith is firm, and conscience clear,
14 And words of peace the spirit cheer,
15 And visioned glories half appear,--
16 'Tis joy, 'tis triumph then to die.

17 When trembling limbs refuse their weight,
18 And films, slow gathering, dim the sight,
19 And clouds obscure the mental light,--
20 'Tis nature's precious boon to die.
Next page