Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Come whisper in the listen I now long to hear you see
Of my odd interpretation of the lesson in this session
Surely spewing wicked somethings in disorder as it feeds
Agonizing ramblizing far too soon to fail to mention
Incorporating lonesomeness complexities in legions
Is there no unserpentizing the enlightening of strange?
Misuncircumstancing as the reader finds no reason
In such savory salivations of the misconcepted change
Unknowingly still growing far beyond the closest measure
Into raging inconsistencies that weep unto the page
Bleeding such intuitive progression never severed
In the ****** of youthful fluencies in such a weary age
The gladness of the madness strikes within the battered shore
Not but a hair above comparisons so folded in the fray
Enticing bold imperatives unsweetly through the outer core
In air of uninheritance that creeps the numb at play
Parading the tirading of such unsubstantial ecstasy
In such an unconventional impression of insane
Always sometimes never far within the tragic synergy
Of answers unbegotten for the rottening of sane
The murderous disorder in infectious undisease
As such sporadically chaotic posthypnotic juices flow
Now lost in such emphatically irrational absurdities
That pour out further twistedly insistent as I go
Shattering the view and boundary bordering abnormal
In this morsel of a mouthful seen before its time had come to go
Reaching destinations in displacement so unformal
In the storming of the forming verbalating undertow
Bringing order to the chaos of this psychopractic babble
In a lesson of the breaking of the rules amidst the flow
With intention of confusion that makes sense within the rattle
It is only when we break free that we find where we can go
In creative inspiration as this invitation I extend
To all who may so dare to violate the rules of play
Embracing utter lunacy in oddest infestation
As I show what can be done when mental limits melt away
This started as a personal experiment in breaking the rules of writing, which turned into a shared lesson of what can be done when ignoring rules and mental limitations. This is in no way vanity as it may appear to some in how it is written and presented. It is, quite simply, the  sharing of surprise at creating so much more than I was expecting, so as to entice you to push your limits, ignore your boundaries, and break the rules. The title seemed deliciously appropriate. This piece is subject to change, as it is still in experimental phase. I absolutely love playing and experimenting with words, and I welcome and invite you to do the same =^)
 Apr 2014 Mary R Short
Jack
~

Who I was

Blurred, these tracks of memories
Beyond the dreams that I may seek
Lost in windblown sanctity
Of roaring steel on endless plains

Adrift along these boundaries
Singing songs of desperate days
Within my mind…alone…wandering
Seeking that which is not forgotten

This fight to stave off destinations
Where frowning faces paint sad reflections
At every stop along the way
With flashing crossings in broken trust

And still the rumble feeds my heart
With hope that this line will soon end
Remembering me for who I was
And not what I have become…
Inspired by a photo sent to me by my good friend Zahra
I didn't know,
the first time,
you were dying;
thought it
something else
causing you ill;
if I’d known
I’d have stayed
there still.  

What was dying like
the first time around?
We were there
the second time,
holding your hands,
egging you to stay,
but you were
taken away.

I miss your coming
and going;
your humour
and Mutley laugh;
your soft spoken voice,
your bright eyed stare.

I didn't know,
that first time,
you were dying;
we spoke of
mundane matters;
no great speeches
as history dictates,
as the famous do.

Just us talking
the small things through;
you hard of breath,
puffed up,
unknown to us,
nearing to death.
 Apr 2014 Mary R Short
Mikaila
The rain is making the grass grow thick
And blossoms push through the bark of every tree
And the wind is warm
And the ground is sighing its relief
Because you are home
Finally
And home is
You.
 Apr 2014 Mary R Short
Mikaila
I don't know whether to hope I'm brave enough, or to fear that I am.
 Apr 2014 Mary R Short
Theia Gwen
I have such high aspirations
But I feel so low
Tell me, can I live a happy life
Without giving up my soul?

And none of my dreams
Are grounded in reality
Why should I pay thousands
To be who I want to be?

I'm not too proud of my address
Daddy can't buy me every pretty thing
I'm just a girl in the lower middle class
In a world where money is king
I really want to get a PhD in Psychology and become a therapist when I grow up, but I'm terrified I won't have the money and will have to compensate my dreams.
Next page