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i have become
a worm
so many times
falling victim to my own
mistakes and poor choices
and allowing myself to shrivel up
into something pathetic
and ugly

i have been told
and convinced i’m worthless
that i can’t do it
on my own
and i keep
becoming
that little worm
over and over again

the prospect
of building a future
scares me much more
than the idea
of death

i haven’t given up yet
but the dark thoughts
are consistently swimming
around in my weary head

somehow,
you see someone
worth saving
you see past the ugly
and help me to realize
that there could be
something better for me
that maybe i can do it on my own
that maybe i have a chance
to actually live for once
instead of just existing
i’m going to keep clicking
my heels
until i find
myself a home
i am only
just pretend
like an
imaginary friend
there is a me
somewhere
that exists
but i don’t think
anyone has
ever been
introduced to her

i play games
with myself,
with strangers,
friends,
lovers,
with family,
coworkers,
and others

i don’t take
anything seriously
and it eats away
at my stability
it tramples me
with insecurity
and keeps stimulating
my curiosity

i’m like a cat
waiting for something
bigger
and better
to **** me
but looking at my watch
time never stops
and none of these
******* got
bigger *****
they can’t get this crazy
**** down
long enough
to set their clocks
they just keep
******* and wishin
they could touch the scars
i have gotten
from all the times
i’ve reached up
for the stars

yeah, i’m really ****** sick
and i don’t know what to do with it
i could let it break me
or let it take me
where i really
want to go
up high
down low
back and forth
to and fro
i’m gonna puke
i think i’m dead
where’d i go?
which way is home?
where’s my mind?
what’d i do?
oh ****
oh no
covered in confusion
and blinded
by excitement
trying to find
the middle ground
between
complacency,
enlightenment,
and
always
being frightened

it’s crazy to
think
about
how much
yet
how little
i’ve seen
and done

to think about
how much better
or
worse
i could’ve
become
but where’s the fun?
that **** is gone
it’s charred
beyond
well done

now is real
and here’s the deal
this is how i feel

let’s be us
and don’t fuss,
i just mean
you be you
and i’ll be me
the we
we’ll be
will not
keep us
from being free

but we can
make new mistakes
to share
we can know
each other
if we dare

we can be there
when the other
needs someone
to care

and when
the day
shines
its light on us
when we
look into
each other’s eyes
with your face
next to mine
i hope
we’ll flip each other off
at the same time
so we can laugh
again
about how
in so many ways
we’re the same person
but we could still
teach
each other
a few lessons

and if things
should worsen
i’ll be here
to listen to you cursin’
and however i can
i’ll help you
lessen your burden

freedom is what
we both seem to crave
i’m trying to take the steps
forward
i’ll try
to be
brave

and if you end up deciding
that this is all too exciting
and your current reality
is where you want to stay
and i don’t quite
fit in
to what you
have planned
today
i’ll stand back
and fade away

i just don’t
want to be
in the way

the street signs
are all blurry
and i’m not
quite sure
where i’m going
in such a hurry
but my brakes
are out of order
and i have no choice
but to
keep
moving
forward
 Jan 2019
Cecil Miller
I followed the trades to the center of Mecca,
Maybe looking for my soul.

All I found in the people around,
Were pieces of what made the whole.

I searched in the sun for the purest light,
But my eyes could never see.

The hollowness inside my every thought
Was a hunger I couldn't feed.

There was a rubble in the sands of time,
It all turned upside down.

Suddenly I was under the water,
And hearing not a sound.

Everything was nothing then the moment came,
When everything was alight.

An opening of eyes, there was clarity,
I was passing through the light.

I can still remember serenity,
When I was safe inside the arms.

All I knew was comfort and love in the moment,
There were no alarms.

I didn't know that I was fragile,
Or an aging ghost of an old man yet to come.

I only knew in the moment that I never knew a moment,
Or where the next was from.

It would last forever, in this familiar place
Where I might have been before.

Because I recognise the light,
But not the purest light that was vacant at its core.
Written Jan 14th, 2019

Now this might offend some people, but this isn't my intention. How is it that someone could post one or two whiney lines about some break up and it winds up all over the front page, however, when effort is put into a piece of work, to create something of a poetic nature it goes by hardly noticed?
I mean, writing a one line diary entry to cry about getting dumped is not poetic. Put some effort into your art, a little structure or something. Some creative turn of phrase. Anything that is metophoric, or oximoronic might work, also. Otherwise, it might be an honest feeling that's going to get some sympathy likes, but there is nothing creative in simply declairing a broken heart. Even if it is very brief, without structure, saying something like "I'm not good enough," is not poetic or musical. Without more content, I wouldn't call it prose. At best it might be a brief, singular undetailed narative. Then hashtag some trendy words that usually have little to do with the entry. It's just doesn't make this site seem fit for decent writers.
So try this: poets, take your singular line and dual lined entries and see if you can construct an actual poem with some rhythm. An online thesaurus might help some of you when you want to rhyme, or when you don't because poetry doesn't have to rhyme.
Very, very seldom does one phrase make a poetic statement. How many times can people praise, "my boyfriend dumped me" one liners before they get eye-rolly and cynical? Let's ask Mr. Owl to lick the tootsie roll.
 Nov 2018
Cecil Miller
I'd like to see
The tears
you're crying

When they carry
My body
Away.

I'd like to know
You should
Have loved me

When you could have
Had
Your say.

I want lots of
Arms
to comfort

And help you
Get through
The grief.

I'd like to see
The tears
You're crying

When you could
Have said
Your peace.

Tell me that you'll miss me then.
I won't hear, but you'll say it then.
Tell me that we won't ever end.
I'll never know, but you'll say it then.

I'd like to see
The tears
You're crying

When you
Are feeling
Your pain.

Make
It all
about you

When it all
Comes back
Again.

When
The choir
Is singing

It won't be
Because
I'm gone

I'd like to see
The tears
Your crying

And know
You know
You were wrong.

Tell me that you'll miss me then.
I won't hear, but you'll say it then.
Tell me that we won't ever end.
I'll never know, but you'll say it then.

Can you tell me how
You love me now?
Can you let the secret out of Pandora's box?

I want your friends
To be
around

I want
You to
have fun

But first
The truth
Will eat you

For what
You've left
undone.

Some
Might say
It's better

That you
Are spared
Some pain.

I
Had lived
Not knowing

If I
Was loving
You in vain.

Tell me that you'll miss me then.
I won't hear, but you'll say it then.
Tell me that we won't ever end.
I'll never know, but you'll say it then.
Love takes courage. A lot of people just can't seem to express how they feel until it's too late. This song is not about death. It's about never having lived. (No, it is not auto-biographical)
 Aug 2018
Cecil Miller
I was taken a-back
By a memory
Of a sweet, sweet face
From long ago.

I can't find that place
Within me.
I wonder where and when
Did it go.

Dallas ain't the place
That I want to be,
But New Orleans ain't the same,
As before.

My heart doth break
For my one true love,
But I can't love
Anymore.
I started writing a new song with my guitar tonight. Making music is fun.

I'm going to call this one "I Can't Love Anymore." This is is only one verse. I'm dropping it here to keep track, cause the internet never forgets.

Northwest Louisiana, let's start a band.
 Aug 2018
Cecil Miller
I'm so unique nobody could be me.
The words I say reflect what I see.
I know you; I know what you're thinking.
I see the light, but I don't know why it's shining.

Sometimes, I know, I get too upset
When wrestling with the puzzles that are in my head.
My heart could love, if not for the dread.
It's like a blade that's doing me a chining.

But I can't blame it on the rock-and roll,
It's the only thing that keeps me whole,
Lord knows, it's the only, only thing that's holy.
No you can't say I'm like the other guys,
I was living large before it was fashion wise.
You know, the angels treaded far behind me lightly.

The gossamer was endless and nestling to all it neared.
The tingling within the earth let usher forth a worthless beauty to every person of it's time; but which was to be unknowingly priceless to the lives yet to come.

And the prophet cried before the day he realized he was to die, the hour before he was to find...

Relief.

The automatic writing happens when you give it up,
And you never even know the meaning til it comes to pass.

But divination is a gift, even as the gossamer blinds your eyes.

And the fiber dissolves into the nullity.

When then spasm has become as the tapered wind, there is left but nothing.
The first stanza has been written for decades and been used in several pieces I have written. The rest was written tonight, as I was staring into the mirror this morning to look a little deeper. Much is still a mystery. Who knows?
 Feb 2018
Cecil Miller
I'm flipping through the vinyl at the vintage record store even though I haven't a penny in my pocket to spend.

The owner doesn't ever seem to mind that I am all the time hanging out there browsing.

All the music of my life is there.

Sometimes it makes me sad;
Sometimes it makes me happy.
It always makes me feel something,
But it never fails to quiver my eyes.

I knew the band was touring.
I heard they were coming soon,
That classic rock salvation
Is the only thing that sooths.

I could have fell
Right to the floor,
When rock and roll
Came through the door.

Have you ever seen an idol?
I mean, shining like a god
In glistening southern heat?
I pray to God our eyes don't meet.

He had a flowing tunic,
And a top hat on his fluffy mane.
A small entourage was with him.
His eyes were above his darkened shades.

I gasped and said a swear word that I could not keep inside.
Over stacked of dingy cardboard boxes he saw me,
I tried to beg apology but could not speak;
My legs were petrified.

In my chest my heart was pounding,
Sounding like the beating of a drum that timed each step that he took, as he walked around the musical maze to the spot where I was frozen.

Have you ever met an idol?
Someone who is more than just a man?
Someone who has the message of a poet,
And seems to understand like no-one can?

I forced myself to look away,
Looking down to the floor.
I hate that in this moment
I am so vulnerable,
And I love that my nerves are open raw.

I cannot believe all I can do is panic
And I know he must see that I am pathetic.
My soul is naked in his sight.

I know there is no possible way
I can recover from my shame.
I tremble when he puts his hand upon my shoulder
And tell me he understands, that it's alright,
Tells me him in the eye.

I am so close I can see the pores between the stubble on his face.

He asks me how I'm doing, now.
I tell him that my brother should be the one he is meeting.
He is older, and better and more steady in his grip. My brother loved him first because my mother used to play his songs. That's how I came to love him, too.
My brother is more a man than I.

He tells me that my brother isn't here.
That this is just the way it's meant to be,
This charity, serendipity.

He tells me he is honored I'm a fan
Of his music, and he's glad I like the band.

He ask me if I'm coming to the show.
I change my gaze to see the band behind him.
I tell him that I tried, I really tried.
I wanted to so bad. I had no money.
I've been out here on the streets for quite a while.
And, God, I cannot feel this moment.
Everything seems like it's going.
I cannot help but give my life to him.

Take a breath, he calmy tells me.
He holds his hand out to the side.
He signals with his beautiful *******.
What is happening?

And I ask him

"Have you ever met an idol
Someone you wish maybe you could be?
Or were you always beautiful,
Never just a runaway like me?"

He put the tickets in my hand and
Folds his over mine
And takes my hand as if we were praying.
Nobody is a nobody,
His eyes said to mine.
I can see he knows I understand.

He told me that he looked forward to seeing me in the front row.
I wrote this on my phone just now while soaking in a hot bath. Please forgive any mistakes. I'll fix them in time. I know it changes tense. There really is no other way to express the dream state of this poetic writing without taking some grammatic liberties.
 Feb 2018
Cecil Miller
I've had more than my share of news.
My pocket watch doesn't have a snooze.
I tried to get by the right way,
But the world's a society.
Somebody's getting burned
But it won't be me.

The slickest part of the granite is mine.
Stay on your side of the line,
Unless you get a clear invite.
No chance of that except in dead of night.
Somebody's getting burned
But it won't be me.

I don't want to take the blame
Of being foolish to your game.
I have heard it all before
And there's no use coming back for more.
Somebody's getting burned
But it won't be me.

The fragile nature of your face
Needs to look elsewhere for grace.
I am not the savior of souls
Though I've collected many tolls.
Somebody's getting burned
But it won't be me.

Are my lines straight as a curve
Or do I need to write more words?
I don't need to cease the day.
I just lock my heart away.
Somebody's getting burned
But it won't be me.

I've been lit by the candle's light
Buy the late night love of Mr. Right.
As solid as the moment was,
It wasn't even really love.
Somebody's getting burned
But it won't be me.

I go to where from angels flee
In their fits of jealousy.
I do whatev' I **** well please;
I'm stormy waters of the sea.
Somebody's getting burned
But it won't be me.

One day the one that set the course
Of my hardened tour de force
Will write me of a wedding day,
Some good came of sending me away.
Somebody's getting burned
But it won't be me.
I wrote this two nights ago, except for the last stanza, which I wrote while in the process of this posting. I hope it is recieved well.
 Feb 2018
Cecil Miller
I ain't no stranger to strangers.
I got a lot of love to give.
Can't see through to the back of the room.
When the lights go dim,
That's when the violence blooms.

The wispers carry on tension
Of the strings between the cans.
All the brows are down at me
And the words slash whenever they can.

But I've got one thing more
Than anybody with giddy grins
On their plastic faces
And their squared-off chins.

I've got life.

I've got life.

I ain't no secrets to secrets.
Many have been mine to keep.
Heaven knows, I've been a few.
When they got back to their houses,
They wished away secrets they knew.

They scream to break the tension.
If they don't, they go insane.
They poison their faces,
Turn the keys and spill their brains.

But I've got something more
Than loose binds to convention.
I'm a prism of truth
From another dimension.

I've got life.

I've got life.

Even though they say they don't,
I know that they want to know
''How does the other half live?"
Lately I have been under the influence of punk and early new wave. Again.
 Nov 2017
Arlo Disarray
a couple states away,
in the snow dusted hills
lies a possible future
that i never thought i'd see

there are several doors
lined up in front of me
and i'm not quite sure
to which one i hold the key

the map that lines my pocket
is crumpled to a point
where i can't read
and the ink has gotten sweaty
as it slowly starts to bleed

i see a light
through a dark, empty space
and i'm too afraid
of truly finding my place
you can read every word
that i think,
on my face
but there's no answer

decision making has always been
something i have trouble with
i either stand in place
or i sink myself into a hole
never really getting anywhere
simply watching
as i, and everyone around me grow old
i'd forget it was winter if it wasn't so cold

time passes around me, twice
twisting trails around my life
letting everything pass me by
as i live, and as i die
 Sep 2017
belbere
then
your pale frame
eclipsed my sight,
you, the moon,
caught me staring
too long and i blinked
your face burnt black
into the backs of my eyelids,
there were nights
i would rub my eyes
and count the spots
you’d left like stars
(one two three four
five six seven eight)

then
i thought the numbers
in my head were all
the reasons we were wrong
i started sleeping
with my eyes open
if i shut them i’d see
holes and think of your craters
and how the men who tread
your surface don’t clean
their boots well enough
don’t think to ask you
how you like it before
they plant their flags,
but they offered you
the world, and all i had
to offer were the spots
in the backs of my eyelids
(one two three four)

then
rockets counted down
the seconds until they could
meet you and i
counted you out,
contented myself by
staring at the sun,
blinked and i
saw spots
(one two three)

i am no man,
would not simply
stake a claim so bold.
in hindsight,
you, the moon,
had already claimed me,
wrapped your evening flag
over my eyes
and made me yours,
i just never
noticed the fabric,
couldn’t see past
the spots in my eyes.

now i only see you in hindsight.
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