Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Feb 2016
GaryFairy
sometimes more time is all I find
deep inside these insides of mine
I look to the sky wide eyed
if I could fly I might defy my kind

I search for my sight, I can't find
any kind for these eyes of mine
those lies that I lied beside
come back to bite me from behind

the vines entwine inside my mind
climbing toward some kind of sign
I find myself when I hide
if I saw the light, i might go blind
going to edit this later
 Feb 2016
Commuter Poet
To be left behind
Alone
On the shores of one’s life

Deserted
Lost
As the ships of fortune
Roll away beyond reach

To perceive
Even the smallest things
As a source of terror

To shrink
From the very light of day
Yearning for the escapology
Of black night hours

To let roll
Tears of desperation
As one recognises
One is nothing
But a broken being

How strange to be
So isolated
So alone
In this whirlpool
Of *******
Black
Tar

If only describing
The sentiment of inadequacy
Could disable its grip
And free one
From its power

The cold winter months  
Take hold
Of my entire being
As I stare at emptiness within me
Longing for escape

Bruised words spill
Over my page
In tribute to
The crisis hours
7th February 2016
 Feb 2016
Mica Light Poetry
"Trust is like an object, full of impermanence. One with entropy, its inevitable to be broken. After all, it's the breaking of trust that I often see spread two people far apart. But a ground shattering passion, contrary to trust, is not so easily broken. Not so delicate. It is strong. Of many forms. Very hard to grasp. And so it remains the only glue I've ever seen to keep two people together."
trust vs. passion
 Feb 2016
Mica Light Poetry
.
Sadness is but a wave in the plentiful ocean of life.
 Feb 2016
Mica Light Poetry
Ocean tides bring breeze in to air.
The life of us is always fair.
Air pacing all around us, for us.
Inhale nature at its finest.
That's the purpose.
So live it.

Don't question why once more.
Swim your way to the shore.
Rest your head for it is sore.
And lay it on the earth -
This is your re-birth.
Drink from the well of yourself and begin again. - Charles Bukowski
 Feb 2016
Commuter Poet
The tides are in
As I journey today
And I carry
A single lemon seed
In my pocket
To remind me
Of the potential
For transformation

Such a seed
Under favourable conditions
Will grow
Nurtured by mystic forces

But in doing so
It must break out
Of the tough shell
That protects
Its inner potential

Sometimes
A seed has to sit
And wait
And wait

For years

The wise carefully transfer
The jewel
Of true heritage
From one
To the next
And nothing is wasted

Today
I decide
To let the universe
Be my guide

To help me find
Hope
From a different source

One disconnected to the
Rotating axis
Of my daily grind

This rush of the modern age
Does not sit well with me

The struggle to keep up, keep up
Makes one feel like you are chasing others

Today I set my own pace
And allow others to join

If they wish

Fanned by the fair winds of the mystic
Like my seed
I can wait
2nd February 2016
 Feb 2016
GaryFairy
check out my eye piece
I can see to galaxies that are free from pain
acceptance is my beast
I fail to see the fallacies that are mine to blame

within my earshot
whispers that translate to only shame
the ear that hears not
is deaf to the gesture of speaking in vain

check out my eye piece
it helps me see through the ones who are all the same
exception is my feast
I refuse to take up the ways that they feign
 Feb 2016
SE Reimer
~

in this place of darkness,
a quiet chill seeps deep within;
the place where light won't reach,
far below the noisy din
that floods my life above;
the noise that swallows me,
distracting purpose and resolve.
between this rock and hard place
hidden from all time,
where i feel there is no space;
though threatening in its silence,
and though i feel it’s crush;
this place that i despised,
had come to hate so much...
this rock become my cleft,
the cleft became my rock!
where i'm hidden from my foes.
from all that wish me harm,
where loss becomes my hope,
where pain reveals my gain;
where my tattered, filthy rags
are washed in water, clean and cool;
where i'm held in deepest love,
and sheltered from the storm.
as with mercy’s grace in action,
deep below within the earth,
water finds the darkest traces,
seeping to the lowest places,
the foulest air it displaces,
as it finds and fills
the needy spaces.

~

*post script.

is between a rock
and a hard place,
in reality within the cleft?  
perhaps it’s all just perspective.  
my hardest, darkest place
being under his protective grace.  
as water always falls,
down, down, seeping, trickling,
flowing, till it pools
in the very lowest
and darkest places;
just like mercy...
and what is mercy
but grace flowing…
grace in action!
 Feb 2016
Commuter Poet
Life to life
Face to face
We
Are companions
Together
Forever

We brave
The winter swell
And despite
Physical weariness
Go out
To the world.

I want
To lie down
But there are
Things to do
And things to be done

Living and working
All on the run

Like meeting the train
To meet an old friend
To hear of
Four generations
Of women in a single family
In a single picture

I ponder the strangeness
Of this reality
And concentrate
To perceive
The brilliance
Of human
Endeavor
27th January 2016
 Feb 2016
Vanessa Gatley
My own world
Belongs to 2 different
Places
Where I once was
Where I'm now
 Jan 2016
Mike Essig
I want to make poetry
from poverty.
I eschew women.
I buy nothing.
I eat little.
I own less.
I have neither
TV nor cellphone.
This is not asceticism.
I just want
to know the bones
of life before
I become
the bones of death.
  ~mce
 Jan 2016
Walter W Hoelbling
the tiredness in my bones
at times is almost overwhelming

it feels existential
lodged deeply somewhere at my core

that center of my life
   wherever it is
seems to gain distance
step by step
from the world’s busy-ness
makes me consider things
   like from above
and at the same time
narrows down my vision
   to my basic needs

what do I care about
   the hungry dead in Africa
the Asian victims of typhoons and floods and mudslides
or who becomes chancellor or president etc.

I focus on myself
mulling the question
whether I have a mission in my life
whether there is a destiny
   that needs to be fulfilled
or fate to be resigned to
or if it’s better to catch each day
   as if it were my last
   experience life to the brim
   as long as possible
   and die in the midst of it

at times
I wonder & ponder
yet shy back
from any definite conclusion
hesitant to fall into a groove
that lead me
to a too predictable
end

           * *
Next page