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Indefinite black pervades the air,
a darkened sun casts no shine
luminous black, like concrete surrounds you,
light is absent, Cimmerian shade is all.

Sonorous, sullied, sooty black cloaks all.
Shimmering, in the corner is a jet black,
obsidian hard sparkle, it's just a puddle.
A puddle made to sparkle in the street light.

A joyless sight in the darkness of a Stygian night.
Indistinct figures rush by, oblivious to the sparkling puddle.
Somber souls,mournfully groping homeward in the false electric light.
Home to a comfortless home, having failed to see the sparkle in the dark.
© JLB
23/08/2014
16:23 BST
 Aug 2014 Mike sikes
AllAtOnce
it's just me
huddled on your end of the couch
some pointless game flashing on the screen
ice cream filling my mouth
my friend at the other end trying to fly
the blanket is too scratchy
and the ice cream is too cold
blood on my tongue (and i don't know why)
with so many words to be told
i don't know the point of this poem
just putting random feelings into words
once again just wondering
what it would be like to be heard
Tonight has given me an appetite,
desire craves at my soul, an itch needs scratching.
I desire no food or water, just your body next to me,
in me, your tongue Salaciously squirming in my mouth.
I yearn for you to see that my proclivity is not for chocolate,
but your sweet breath on my body.
I smoulder, tingle, burn at your touch.
I covet you, I long for you, I blaze for you.
Cook for me tonight a sumptuous feast of smouldering avarice.
Devilled debauchery, sautéed sin, overindulge me in you.
Boil my blood by touching me with passion,
feed my famine by ravaging my wanton soul.
I need to feed, I need to thirst, I need to purge with you.
Slake my passion, the only way we know how.
I crave you. I hunger you. I come for you.
© JLB
20/08/2014
00:07 BST
You see her sitting in the chair,
daydreaming, staring into thin air.
You wonder what she sees,
with her hands neatly folded on her knees.
You watch her for a while,
notice a girlish smile, see her eyes brighten then dim.
You know she's thinking of him.
Her husband long gone.
You see her tilt her head as if in conversation,
what is she thinking of now?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm sitting again in the chair.
With nothing to do but wait and stare.
He'll be along shortly to talk to me,
we'll have a good natter, about nothing that matters.
We'll remember the war, when we were young,
when we had fun, when we danced and walked,
and made daisy chains in the sun.
We made love by the moon, then, all over too soon.
I've waited a long time here, and while he comes to visit,
he's always young, wearing his uniform, and I am old,
and forgotten in a chair.
© JLB
20/08/2014
12:15 BST
It's like a holy war
When the masses march upon me.
The whole scene leaves me sore--
A hole seen by those who soar--
And, broken and bloodied,
I grin up at them and ask for more.

It's like a holy war,
And its when those holy *******--
A horde, a mass, of masochistic masters--
Hone on me like a holy task, there's
No greater sight for my eyes to see.
When they're still so certain;
Certain that the unholy one is me.

Twasn't me that drew this curtain,
And I ain't the one that's hurtin',
When they make their deals with devils.
See, it isn't standing up to rebels
When your convictions tremble;
It's your morals that need sortin'.

In this war of a devils against devil,
It won't be the youngbloods left to revel.

Come at me with your holy war--
I've fought before and demanded more--
But you'll come to find that what's in store
Will be far greater than what you're aiming for.

I don't see why you can't admit it:
That you've become demons, just like I did.
Yes, there's a darkness within me,
But, as the villain you want to see,
I'm afraid that I just can't take credit.
When the greatest sin that I've committed,
Was shedding light on all that you all did.
Been a while since I busted out anything new, so I figured I'd hit the scene with a bang (hello again, HelloPoetry <3 ). I've been writing a lot lately, so a lot of the rhythm here is inspired by some of my favorite J-rock & Visual Kei bands (the music that makes up my writing playlist) as well as the lyrical flow of rap/hip-hop (a genre I've found myself increasingly drawn to lately for whatever reason (I never fight these things  lol).

As is the case a lot of the time, this is hardly illustrating JUST a personal struggle, but offering some support to so many others who face a similar struggle of their own. To those in such a situation, this poem is for you, and let me remind you that you not only have strength in numbers, but your own untapped strength, as well.

I find myself--either for my religious or moral/ethical views or any other reason that people see fit--often targeted by a person or persons who see fit to villainize me, and I find myself growing suspicious that the only reason for this is so they can feel like the heroes when they take me down.
Sadly for them, I've yet to fall, and I wish the same strength and track record to those out there facing the same situation.
I can write poetry when you call
And just a few lines when you write
But when there's no contact at all
*The pages of my notebook remain white
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