Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Dec 2012 Kimber Smith
Jon Martin
I can't begin to tell you
All the pain that haunts my night.
I feel my dreams, they're breaking,
And falling from my sight.
If there were any way to take it back,
Anything to say,
The thousand tears I've bled tonight
Would drown the words I pray.
Just some old scribbles...
 Dec 2012 Kimber Smith
Jon Martin
Spend another night in dreaming,
Someday you'll be here.
Spend another day believing,
Love will dry my tears.
I'll tell you all what I've discovered
Lying here tonight,
That all the dreams that I have stolen
Cannot make it right.
Another chance to break tomorrow,
Waking with the sun.
Another chance to sleep forever,
Looking for the gun...
 Dec 2012 Kimber Smith
Jon Martin
This coffee-stained late night existence, an experiment
in progressive technocracy. An amazing, affluent proverb
of modern disfunction. So many late nights swilling the
mis-brewed staple of societal vampirism. Those forgone,
unsung antithesis of the conscious, diurnal homosapien.
To pretend problems non-existent, to daydream as that lazy
star sleeps, to truly feel sibling to the moon. Mood is the
monster that begat me, these creatures of the ambience of
dark. Nowhere - NOW. I give thanks to have finally hidden
from the beast that can't find me. I am what I decide, a dawn
of infinite potential, and the opportunity to spend an entire
night in preparation....
No, seriously, this has no title.
 Dec 2012 Kimber Smith
Jon Martin
Tonight these pictures flashing past
Souls repose, and lying last,
To quiet down my minds desire,
And let this silent prayer expire.
My heart keeps pumping, blood and thought,
How never any ending wrought
The dreams I chased in days of youth,
And in this ending softly soothe
My bent and old, and brittle mind,
This peace brought forth for just a time.
As silent pounds the rain outside,
So my giving slowly dies.
To pour myself from out this cup,
One silent tear seems not enough...
I do not remember writing this...thus the title. Kinda wish I did, tho'...
 Dec 2012 Kimber Smith
Jon Martin
I had to write for you, love,
Because sometimes a father must
Hide the things that hurt you,
And your pure unflinching trust.
The gentle hugs, the softest laugh,
I take in all I can.
But now I must be honest, dear,
Your father's just a man.
I've loved and laughed, cried and hurt,
I've seen miracles come true,
But know this child, from all I've seen,
There's no miracle like you.
I'll always try to be there,
To be everything you need
I'll always fight beside you,
And for you gladly bleed.
But when the watchman comes,
And it's time to say goodbye,
Know this then, when I am gone -
You're the reason I'm alive.
This was written in a very dark time. The last two lines are pretty literal.
 Dec 2012 Kimber Smith
k
Please
 Dec 2012 Kimber Smith
k
Let me
Take back
Every word
Every touch
Every look
Since I've
Known you
So I can
Just pretend
We never
Met and
Never fell
In love
So I can
Forget
What losing
You
Feels like.
 Dec 2012 Kimber Smith
k
Dreaming
 Dec 2012 Kimber Smith
k
And I'll
fall
asleep tonight,
Scared
that i
might be
happy.
Life is a constant struggle
That goes on and on.
For some it is a bottomless pit,
For others a personal utopia.
For everyone it is an undefined
Mystery.
What is life?
The will to make ****** choices,
Getting lost in a dangerous city
Or lighting fire to one's phone?
Is it about the greed to succeed,
******* over one's fellow man?
Or is it about creating goals
So pointless yet so important
And trying restlessly to reach them?
Maybe it's about facing reality.
For some it's that goals are pointless,
That disappointment is imminent.
For others it's who they truly are,
That they will always lose in society.
Life is a twisted game
That cannot be won.
Every part of existence will lose.
At some point,
Everyone; everything, will die.
With reality, social status seems
Useless.
Competition is a waste of time.
Making life better for others
Is the way to make life better
For oneself,
For the World.
Life is a glass of sand
That must stop at some point.
It is not to be wasted.
Life is precious.
It is full of freedom;
Full of control.
The game; although inevitably
Tragic,
Is a game of luck.
Without luck one will
Fail.
Will you fail the game of life?
After my previous essays, this one can remain open to one's own thoughts.
 Dec 2012 Kimber Smith
Sheeda
Seize me by the waist
Hold me tightly in your arms
And make me cry a sweet surrender.
Steal kisses that would have been gladly bestowed
And consume my body with bites of fire
Mark red trails down my back
And leave me shivering not from cold
But heated pleasure of the flesh
Condemn me to a hell
Become heaven by your touch
And hold me on the edge of precious release
Where I shall beg to be spared
The wait
Gripping the sheets
Pleading
For you
To take me
And let me have
My sweet surrender.
Next page