Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Dec 2018
Jesse stillwater
there are the ones
that feel it climb up
the shadow towards the light,
hesitation on every rung,
each wave of the arising
      overwhelms  unabated ―
and woe betides those
who are on the run
from a storm's deluge


A rousing ocean breeze
stirs inside the memory
of an unframed seashell
lying on the hearth mantel;
heightened sensitivity
lapping soundlessly,
spindrift plashing
the shoreline
of another world's
feigned peace


Perhaps the muted voice
of guilty pleasures,
hushed by their own
hidden truths
Feeling the unfelt textures
of every stifled vibration
left unbreathed


The naked truth befallen
so cold and lonely
Running in circles,
volatile as all those
     unspoken excitations raging ―
and the whispers of those
who hear not
the voices in the wind


An emotionally enslaved  heart
tarries,  marooned high and dry
in a memory on a distant sand bar
     lain fallow for so long ―
stagnant darkness
of an unsated soul
gathered on the back
of a parched tongue
sullied wordless


Rising up through
a dusty hieroglyph corridor
through an unlocked
labyrinth gate;  vestige echoes
from somewhere left behind
in an incomprehensible
abandoned wake


It's getting harder and harder
   for an insatiable soul to breathe ...
   climbing up a tree trunk―
up within the silence
of the listening tree


  Toes dug into
the rough bark furrows ―
fingers reaching upwards
beyond their deepest known grasp


A shadow stranded
out on a hangin' bough
hearkening without ears that hear:
“perhaps they’ll listen now“  
the wingless bird sings
in psalms that fly away
on tattered feathers
over untamed waters roil


Back to nature’s waning youth,
the bough bends unbroken
to taste the freedom
of the wild absolving seas



Jesse Stillwater
June     2018
Notes:                                                                                                          
a friend sent  a link to a deeply thought provoking modern classic 70's song about Vincent Van Gogh and the complexities of imperfection some of us relate .... i'd listened to the words prior but never heard before now.

  Title is last final lyric line from:  "Vincent" (Starry, Starry night) 1971
Writer(s): DON MCLEAN, ENRICO NASCIMBENI,
ROBERTO VECCHIONI
 Apr 2018
abby
We are the ones who are hard to understand
We'll be the last ones in the movie theatre
because the ending scene made us cry
We'll stop to smell the roses
because they deserve to be appreciated
We are the ones who will take the time
to learn what keeps you up at night
We are the ones who will imagine
an entire future of adventures
with the people who show us love

We are the ones who will love you more
than we love ourselves
We will give you our strongest parts
in hopes that we can make things better
We desire to see you become the best you
to make sure that you always feel our love
We crave affection and appreciation
We give a piece of ourselves away every day
sometimes to people who don't deserve it
Our love is easy to take advantage of
and sometimes we don't get back
the love that we give away

When we hurt, we crumble and fall apart
We constantly have to put ourselves back together
We are more fragile than we like to give off
We carry our emotions on our sleeves
Our flaws have the ability to consume us
We aren't afraid to give you the world
but we are afraid to feel unloved
We want you to see what we see
We want you to understand where we're coming from

We are good people with good intentions
We are stronger than we believe
Not everyone can feel the way we feel
We feel too much, too often
We are not hard to love
We are something not everyone knows how to love
But you need to remember that
your worth does not change just because
no one is there to appreciate you, to remind you

You are not any less lovable
You are the most lovable person in the world
You are a light that the world needs
Your kindness is not your weakness
You do not need to change for anyone's acceptance
You do not need to stop giving love
just because you don't get any back
Your heart is the best thing about you

And one day when you least expect it
someone will notice you from across the room
and know exactly how to love you
They will think all of these things are beautiful
They will deserve the love you can give
They will fill the empty space in your heart
But for now, don't stop feeling
We are the ones who feel everything so deeply
We are the ones who can't give up because
We are the ones who will teach the world
how to love
We are exactly who we are supposed to be
 Mar 2017
L Seagull
How can I open the window shut by fear
Let in the air of humanity
Into the stifling chamber filled with rage
How can I speak my heart you
Precious human behind the lens painted domino
You who believes in survival
At the hand of this sorting machine
Where you hid yourself
You whose strength I admire
Your generosity and loyalty
Makes me feel at home
Your warmth and mine
Gives out he same heat
Embrace me,
Hide me from cold indifference
We paint the masks
With patterns of truth and real
Yet still you are hidden
Behind a the mirror glass
Standing next to you
I reflect the hate of my complexion
And your ever so hurt
History
Will never allow me
To belong
Yet another day of trying to get over immersing myself into the world that lacks the niche for my identity
 Mar 2017
Maria Imran
A call for help
Sometimes sounds like
Hey. How was your day?
Because I really want to fill up
My silence
With a voice that isn't like the madman's shriek
The one who lives in my Mind.
And you
You are near. I won't destroy you
But please don't let me destroy myself.
 Mar 2017
Pagan Paul
.
Though my boat is tossed
high upon these crests,
I fear not the deep sea
where the sailors souls rest.

Cast adrift, alone to float,
my mother Sycorax had planned.
But lo! I reach sanctuary
and dance ecstatic on the sand.

My grotesque form I treasure
but loneliness soon must end.
Yes! A monster I might be,
but Caliban needs a friend.

Paradise is mine and ripe.
Behold! A kingdom and a home!
The sun blisters all day long,
oh Muses why am I so alone?

“Hush boy! Careful of thy wish,
the scheme is so much grander.
For Prospero prowls the island
with his witch daughter Miranda”.

Run ugly Caliban. Run away.
Disappear, you must be brave.
For the Wizard has loosed Ariel,
your wretched body to enslave.

The girl holds you enchanted,
with promises of fair romance.
Feel her pull puppets strings,
watch her make You dance.

Oh Caliban! What darkness befalls,
a prisoner tithed with no trial.
Yearn, dear boy, for isolation
and the loneliness of your Isle.

© Pagan Paul (28/02/17)
.
I have always empathised with Caliban.
Enslaved by Prospero, teased by Miranda and
bullied by Ariel. Simply for being an outsider,
stupid, an ugly monster and supposedly subhuman.
Shakespeare's metaphor is rather apt for the way society,
in general today, treats people with mental health issues.
As freaks and outsiders, less than whole.
PPx
 Dec 2016
нαℓeყ
The world is an illusion, we're born alone, we die alone. Everything in the middle is all up to you. Time is timeless, and we're all thoughtless, living in our heads, hiding behind the very thing that narrates our lives, ourselves.

Everyone is so different and unique. Each of us with a different purpose and future. In order to fulfill that role in life, we need to find our worth. What makes you wake up everyday and keep going? What do you love and why? Every single person reading this is worth so much more than you think. The world is never going to get better if we don't wake up and realize that the only thing keeping us from making each day worth it is ourselves.

Words are meaningless without people, guns are harmless without our touch. We are our own worst enemies. But you can change that. You can be the reason someone gets up everyday and keeps going, you can be the one to change society and make the standards we hold a little less impossible to reach. It's all up to you as to whether or not you make that change. We're all capable of the unthinkable. We just have to try.
 Dec 2016
Abeja Reina
In my darkness fear and panic flooding in.
I wait for a hand in the dark
As the night grinds me up.
No glimmer of rescue.
The darkness is like a heavy blanket
weighing me down.
Battling it like an angry animal so many endless nights.
No tender kindness, no loving embrace.
One failed rescuer lost to my heart forever.
Offered some comfort attempt.
Floating his boat in that harbor of dread.
But I am lost at sea, my legs dangle as bait for sharks that tear at my flesh as my life
force ebbs from my soul.
Cling cling to the rocks the thoughts screech
inside my skull....cling or it will swallow you!!

Bpeterson
fear, PTSD, night terrors, terror, fright, scream
Next page