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 Aug 2016
Polar
Walking in the midnight garden of lost hopes and dreams

I inhale the scents of not all it seems

It's here the Dedpoet speaks to me

He tells me things I didn't know

As away I go

further into the realm of enchanted dreams

Here, past, present, future, hold no sway.

Blindly I place one step in front of the other

Pathways are a long time gone.

All the while I hear his voice

Omnipresent, pure, urging me forward

Breath holds in my chest

Unwilling to escape,

Again I hear that voice

Leading me to clarity

Where at last I breathe

Rejoice
 Aug 2016
Jon Shierling
I am afraid of what my hands may write
   I’m not sure why….
most likely something to do with not wanting to hurt anything innocent
   but I suppose we all fail at that endeavor.

Fragile, beautiful things come into our hands and we break them,
   not purposefully, desiring not to **** a lovely thing…
but we can’t seem to help it,
    can’t seem to help hurting people we love.

It ought to have been different, no one should be made to laugh at their own dreams…

I don’t want to write anymore; I want the peace of sleep.
   But I have to write…to keep my soul from dying, I have to write…..
but the only person I want to say anything to doesn’t hear me.
    No matter how absurd the situation appears,
the emotions that we feel are all we have that keeps us alive.

Oceans separate people from each other….
    oceans that even psychonauts are loath to attempt a crossing of.
Anyone who ever believed in anything knows this:
   things ought to have been different….

But people can’t think about things like this all time;
  people aren’t able to go through all of the ******* that encompasses modern life while contemplating the mysteries of human experience.
   And when things get too complicated we run away…

We fear what we don’t understand,
   and I am afraid of you.
No one had ever turned me inside out like you.
No one has ever managed to cut through the crap and shake me to the core….
   except you….

But there’s no time to focus on that,
  there’s no time to focus on one another when the whole world is imposing itself on you.
How can we possibly be expected to delve into people’s souls
  when our mortgage is due eh?

Why should we have to feel the need to love someone
while having to maintain one’s sanity in order to survive?
Since isn’t that what love is…a kind of insanity;
  the kind of insanity where one’s ego is completely swept away.

Freud never loved…
  never could form the concept of ego death
into a beautiful thing…

Certain things will never be spoken aloud by me,
  only written of….
because I too am enslaved against my will by fear of the unknown….
 Aug 2016
Mims
Bring me along!
To your road trip of fun!
I'll hop In the backseat,
Unbothered by the summer heat,
And we'll drive till your fingers blister on the steering wheel.

I can ride along!
S'long I can pick the music,
Ain't really nothing to it,
But we might hit some old superchic,

Oh! Bring me along!
My skin itches to touch the hot air,
Blooming through the window,
At 60mph.

Oh won't you let me tag along?
 Aug 2016
Mike Essig
OK. Today may be dull. It happens. Sure.
But tomorrow remains rife with possibilities.

Podcasts of Trump on on the value of modesty.
Street fights in several extinct languages.
Hillary wins at Detroit poetry slam.
Jihadists explode poodles in crosswalks.
Island countries wave & grin as they sink.
***** flicks found starring Merkel and Putin.
A sane, reasonable presidential election.
Angry cats with opposable thumbs rebel.
Men & women speaking & understanding each other.
Brock Turner announces *** change operation.
God announces: No More Mulligans!
Gender wars conclude. Everyone’s dead.
Debut of lost Bach Partita for Electric Kazoo.
New, hip-hop production of Treblinka: The Musical.
Shakespeare cloned. Buys poetry anthology. Dies.
End-up, instead of start-up, launches in Palo Alto.
Smart phones install apps with annoying ads on users.
Common sense becomes common again.
Victimless rhymes decriminalized.

This is America! Never two dull days.
Take Heart! Tomorrow, there be Wonders…
 Aug 2016
GaryFairy
dancing on the sands of agony
to the saddest song of apathy
standing behind tactical amnesty
with no chance because we lack capacity

we can't advance in fantasy
in rampant mankind's laxity
this land is ****** by strategy
a lack of sanity and demanded voracity

a stance of disbanding amity
we enhance the mass audacity
with plans deteriorating rapidly
we only last for a chance at catastrophe
i worked with the short "a" vowel sound
 Aug 2016
SE Reimer
~

i remember the day
when first we met;
your face i can see, 
i'll not ever forget.
hearing your cry,
i sang your first song;
i was just learning then
how to hold on.

off to the playground, 
i think you were three;
while crossing the street,
you were clinging to me.
when pushing your swing,
i'd always say,
'i'm right behind you, son,
i'll keep you safe.'

for years we work hard
learning how to hold on,
and then in a moment,
childhood is gone;
no longer their fortress, 
our arms they outgrow;
we find we're not ready, 
when it's time to let go.

we took you to college, 
we set up your room.
had we prepared you?
had we too much assumed?
driving back down the freeway,
hope wrestled with fears;
our struggle to let go,
became a battle with tears.

now at your graveside,
i've come here to weep;
your guardian no longer,
now you're watching me.
though heaven now holds you,
and though hope i yet know,
it makes it no easier,
its still hard to let go.

for years we try hard,
learn just how to hold on,
and then in a moment
this life is gone.
no longer their fortress,
our arms they outgrow,
we don't get to choose when,
it is time to let go.

i still find this painful,
it's so hard to let go.
i will never be ready,
though yes it's time...
time to let go.

~

*post script.

an exchange today with a dear, young mother and family friend about her daughter, growing up far too fast, brought memories of our own child rearing, and of this write from several years ago and originally posted in 2013. its been dusted off, with a bit of a rewrite, but stands, both in sentiment and in structure, relatively unchanged.

these words left in comment to her, i dedicate to each of you young parents... especially you single mothers.  "such is the tension of parenting... hang on too closely and a child shows signs of coddling, let go too fast, too early and a child shows signs of parental absence or neglect. the fact that you are aware of the tension means you are far more likely to avoid either extreme; and don't even think about some utopian parenting idea... there is no perfect parent!!"
 Aug 2016
r
Messengers bring me no messages,
teachers do not raise your voices,
like a flag I will raise my hand, like
a mad dog looking up on a hill
in the afternoon, I will smell you out
in the dead water where my tongue
is held captive, if it is to be silent
it will be silent in my mouth
where darkness and the scent of roses
come out like smoke, I smoke alone
in the woods to be smoking
so I can say I have smoked,
I call out madam
shall I undress you for a fight,
the wars are naked that you wage tonight
in a bed as broad as a battlefield
as the sword you mock the fallen with
and the angel says what is dead is
dead, I dream what I dream.
 Aug 2016
The Dedpoet
Behind myself in every shadow
I become aware of reflection,
That I am alone inside my unique-
Being the author of my deception.

A galloping dead horse breathing
Down my back startling,
A swelling comes into play when I
Decide the harder thing.

The superior memory scams
My day forward,
Closing doors I walk
Toward.

Ghost external plays
A quivering chill,
I rest upon a hard earned sorrow,
There I lose my will.
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