Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
The sea of fans churn to your voice sounds.
I am the part in the song where it strains,
to hit the note that makes the ladies swoon.
Over the moon, I float,
swishing your lyrical lies in my mouth.
I don't see a thing but the blackness,
and you, the star.
And I can't reach you,
but I can pretend to know you
chanting your words
like a false prayer.
The music is only a street we run on,
our feet pounding against pavement
like a war drum.
And I feel your sprints in my chest,
you're heaving.
But I can't reach you,
and I can pretend to know you
chanting your words
like a false prayer.
Belonging to no masters
Bowing to no shiny idol
Formed as crashing waves
Tsunami and the tidal

Freeing enslaved minds
Requiring no police
From simplistic limerick
To powerful treatise

Capable to be inclusive
of every type of mind
From hideously critical
To the wise and kind

Between sanity - insanity
The line delightfully blurs
A home for loony writers
Saboteurs and connoisseurs

Ignore at poetry's peril
This most mediocre rhyme
The more that verse is policed
The less that it will chime
We all have a responsibility to appose division how ever hard it seems
They walk aloof among us
Three percent of the population
They reluctantly dine with us
Quietly, stifling their frustration
They don't look back as you pass
They don't want your conversation
Empathy is just an alien concept
They focus only on self preservation

But here's where it gets strange

We worship them with huge salaries
We beg them to lead us the way
We ignore their blatant deceptiveness
We hand them our hard earned pay
If they say bail out the banksters
Or send your kids to a dubious war
We offer them our kids and cash
Knowing that they will ask for more

Stranger still

Our history has been sculpted by them
We raise bronze statues proudly in their honor
Through our plain idleness and cowardice
They can reduce this planet to a nuclear goner

"How did this madness occur?" We question
Why do psychos run banks and governments
Checking world history offers a suggestion
To why we (the population) are slaves for rent

We are simply afraid of those
That successfully navigate life
With reckless irresponsibility
Unchallenged by others strife
It is those destructive characters
We plead to take political risks
In return for obedience and cash
To buy more power and obelisks
I do like an obelisk, but rewarding  those lacking any moral compass  because they can perpetuate the continued *******  of  the many by the few seems like the lunatics are indeed running the asylum. Or am I mad?
put this in your wallet
you said, and you ripped
a dollar in half, I told you
it was illegal and you shrugged
just keep it in your wallet*
how many times have I
been over you, written
a silly poem about leaving
you, talked about letting go?
well, talk about letting go,
Chris, I can't take it out.
(c) Brooke Otto 2014
Have you ever wanted someone to beg for you?
To push against you and plead to feel you ?
To tell you how theyve ached for you .. All... Day ..long.
I need that .
Begging and baring teeth ,
Crazed without my fingertips.
I want him pacing , anxiously awaiting my return, where i can remind him again why im worth waiting for .
I want him up all night counting and recounting the 100 different ways i drive him crazy , a constant game of teasing and rewards.
I want my name to give him goosebumps, closing his eyes and hearing how it sounds rolling off his tongue.....
I want him crazy about me .
You need to be pretty.
You need to be pretty and you need to be quiet.
You need to be pretty and you need to be quiet and you need to give everything to a man because he deserves it for putting a roof over your head.
You need to be pretty.
You need to be pretty and you need to be quiet
You need to be pretty and you need to be quiet and you need to be appreciative of a man because he provides you with the life you were meant to live.
Pretty
Quiet
Appreciative.
Stay in your place.
Don't talk back
Don't flinch when he hits you
Don't flinch when he touches you
Don't flinch when he yells at you.
Pretty
Quiet
Appreciative.
Because you were born into the 21st century version of being sold off like a slave. Pretty
Quiet
Appreciative
None of this is optional.
You need to be (whoever you want) and you need to be (as loud as you want) and you need to (appreciate yourself)
None of this is optional
((( this is insanely cool and i love it goodbye )))
Losing you proved harder than
I'd ever imagined.
So I took the memory
And pretended it never happened.

I buried you,
In the corners of my smile,
And hid you in the gaps between my teeth,
And every once in awhile,
I shone you,
In an attempt to conceal my grief.

I bottled your scent,
And put it in my pocket,
I captured those enchanting eyes
And placed them in my sockets.
I tuned your name into the beats
Of my heart,
I sewed you perfectly, into me,
So as not to tear myself apart.

I took that warm touch of yours,
And carried it in my hands,
I took that soothing voice,
And placed it into bands,
That I laced through my hair,
So when my levels of despair
Reached boiling point,
I'd never forget, that you were there,
That you had always cared.

I took your reassuring grasp,
So I'd never walk alone,
I kept your number,
Tucked neatly in my phone.
I took your kind and gentle ways,
And reinforced them to myself
As the days,
Passed by.

People told me I should start to let go
And I simply replied
With the answer of no.
Because letting go,
Means losing all of you,
And call me crazy,
But that I could never do.
Me?
I eat embers of sunshine for breakfast
and wash them down with rain clouds.
Next page