Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jan 2018
skyler
he may have broken her
but her eyes will still glow golden in soft sunlight
even if her cheeks are stained with tears

s.s
wish we could talk like we used to
I'm too fixated in each moment -
Each moment feels so intense,

I'm lost
On the dark side of the moon,
And nothing here has any warmth,
Worth or substance ~
Nothing here makes any sense.

Even my own shadow has left me.
The Monsters, still lurking
In the darkness,
Have stolen all of my hopes
And dreams away,

I can hear the wolves,
They are hauntingly howling -
There's nowhere safe that I can run to,
On this, here, dark, dreary day.

There will be no stars
To light up the pitch-black night-skies,
They have already fallen,
Just like the Angels
That I once loved and knew,

Everything that I once held onto
As sacred, has been molested -
I've been abandoned, once again;
Hell, again, I am being forced
To walk through.

Alone, I was born and raised,
Only my pain has been consistent-
It has held my hand
Throughout my entire life.

At some point, somehow,
I stupidly gave birth
To expectations,
Luckily, I woke up
And divorced reality,
Hence becoming solitude's
Dedicated and loving wife.

On the dark side of the moon
Compassion, loyalty and trust
Are nonexistent.
Evil dwells in almost every man
And woman,

Each with his or her own agenda,
Each with his or her own selfish plan.

Saviors do not exist,
Superheroes all wear masks,

Unconditional love is but an illusion,
Here, I revert to relying solely
On the harshness of reality,
For, the truth, it always exposes
And unmasks.

The dark side of the moon
Is a very lonely, isolating place,
In which to dwell,

There is no sunshine,
No stars or Angels -
The only light visible
Comes from the flames
Of the evildoers'
Raging fiery hell!

Placed here against my will,
No lush green valley in sight,

Taken away
From the divinity of nature,
I was cruelly robbed
Of my radiant life-giving daylight.

Doomed for being too real,
Too open and too honest,
Doomed for loving too much.

Doomed for believing in superheroes,
Doomed for allowing a human
To become my crutch.

Doomed for being too empathetic,
Doomed for being too sincere.

Doomed for being too kind
And too generous,
I'm doomed, abandoned here.

I blame only myself
For allowing my intuitive awareness
And intelligence to fade away
Like the stars that once adorned
Every exquisite night-sky,

I blame only myself
For not using the blessed insight
Of my third eye.

I'm too fixated in each moment,
Each moment feels so intense,

I'm too passionate about life
To give up and remain imprisoned
On the dark side of the moon...
But I'm too emotionally weak
And disappointed to jump the fence.

By Lady R.F. (C)2018
 Jan 2018
Slur pee
My roof is leaking grey matter, splattered disaster
Scraping, against the grain of my skull.

Slow drip- set in, filling my mouth
Till it bubbles down my throat.

Locked in a chokehold, mock
The dams in my nose as they burst.

I can’t feel hurt, nerves don’t work
Paralyzed emotions feel heavy, all around.

Shelter caved in, weak foundation
Couldn’t stand up to the floods.

I’m left a wreck, cemented
Inside a pool of blood.
Gushing, like a war-torn *****
Spread my eyelids wide open
And show me more.

Expand these clouds that clout me with persistence,
Breaking all that has come into my existence
Inside its heavy rain, inside which, I’m shamed
Named, a parasitic pariah plotting pain.
Children look away, keep your wishes safe
Tethered to the ground so they can’t fly away.
My own ride the melancholic wind that brushes
Against my cheeks in the cold, that hushes
The silence that sneaks upon you as you grow old.

I’ve a homeless heart and a nomad soul,
My body the grave to which they will return.

-SLuR
 Jan 2018
Terry Jordan
The wind blows wherever it pleases.
Gale-force winds to balmy breezes
Facing into whirlwind’s roar
Continuum of torture teases

Hurricane forces forging its wrath
Her name portends hysteria’s lash
Warnings on the evening news
Nowhere around her ferocious path

Brisk winds blow till unsafe outside
Exposing the truth in all false pride
Unsettled blustery feel
Every strong wind we keep inside

That long, low sound up against a wall
Each cutting wind or gusty squall
The wind-chill factor causes
Temperatures to quickly fall

Just when I felt the storm might clear
New winds arise that sharply veer
Whip apart my well-laid plan
The odyssey I held so dear

Like freedom felt the day we were born
Despite all the pain for those who mourn
Survivors have come to find
The pathway to "Shelter from the Storm" (Bob Dylan)
This began in response to 'Irma', the hurricane headed straight for Florida, depicted on the news as bigger than Florida, scaring so many of us to get out. Like so many poems-just like Irma-it veered off into something else...
 Jan 2018
Lynette Warren
And they tried to claim you
in death
but could not
for you were born from
above

They did not help you
for they could not
they knew not
LOVE

You who claim to be
his mother his brother
his cousin his bride

would you really rather
he died?

Oh that I could remove you all
from the face of the earth
I surely would!

My heart pities you
who never understood.

The ONE he loved
has taken him home.
As for me
I wait alone

For my son Joshua bone of my bone flesh of my flesh
 Jan 2018
Thomas P Owens Sr
he'd always been a sleeper
to that he would admit
never less than 8 a night
and then he'd snooze a bit

his love of sleep found him sleeping more
9, 10, 11
the alarm was useless to him
his dreams were that of heaven

but his health began to suffer
his weight began to slip
napping more, eating less
his mind had lost it's grip

he checked in with his doctor
then a sleep disorder shrink
they gave him meds and special beds
useless
so he began to drink

11 turned to 12
and twelve to 17
he only woke to have a drink
in the wasted time between

tuesdays were quickly fridays
just blurs when he awoke
catch his ghostly figure
in the bathroom as he'd choke

the gap was slowly closing
the last stitch in the seam
he'd stepped into his perfect story
his neverending dream

they found him with a book of poems
and a grin though he'd been taken
he'd circled in ink the final passage
'never to awaken'
something that came to mind after I caught myself sleeping too much
 Jan 2018
Troy
If I die
would I remember you at all
Do you remember me
Now
Or is death the end of it all.
Life is so beautiful
And full
With your memories
In it
Even sad at times.
I would rather live with sad
Memories
Than die with no memorys of you.
Without my memories of you
I am truly
lost
 Jan 2018
Valsa George
Mind, like a deciduous forest
has lost all its foliage,
all leaves torn away
by the autumnal blasts

The brain where great schemes were concocted
is now an abyss where spiders sway
It is bare – dismally barren
of all memories – sweet and sour
Like a kite afloat in the boundless sky
moving nowhere, but as the wind directs,
cut out from the past, turned from the present
with the future yet to surge from the abyss
or like serpents intertwining,    
hissing in turmoil within the brain,
unable to sense the gusty blast,
or hear the whispering air,
dead to sounds that disturb,
deaf to songs that soothe,
like a phantom he moves weird,
drifting far away
to a space and time impenetrable  
with nothing to make the mind agog
or depress it to let out a sigh.

Loitering on roads without hurrying feet
with no bliss coming on the way
to run or hasten to embrace
or fear to be missed sore
passing through dark labyrinthine tunnels
forever barred with no exit
churned in oblivion, oblivious of all,
he remains a spectral facsimile
of his onetime self
plummeting into a black hole

The pulse of a heart beat
is all that keeps him alive,  
all else is dead…… !  
with dreary nights ahead
that shall not know another morrow
Only others can throw a little light in the dark lives of its hapless victims!

(With a heart heavy with gratitude, let me acknowledge my poet friend -  Kim Johanna Baker who gave sunshine to my poem who has thus honored me several times !)
 Jan 2018
everly
x
just got out of the hottest and longest shower
cuz i felt like i could possibly make my problems swirl down the drain.
there was no towel so f00k it-
i walked up to my room and took a nap in the nudee

i woke up to a paper under my pillow
i felt the crisp feel of it and i ripped it out of its hidden place.
It read:

“Longing is the joy of being sad-..”

i-i didn’t understand..
in smaller font than you usually write
it said..

“..i’ve been longing for so long i couldn’t describe..
im limiting myself with you..you wouldn’t understand..
i had to go... i hope you still love me..”

i peeked out the window beside me and your car was gone..
as usual.
i just laid back in my bed
and tucked myself in
and fell asleep to the sound of my world falling apart.
i just had a boring day that’s all..a text would’ve been nice..
Next page