Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nolan Willett  Aug 2023
Paracosm
Nolan Willett Aug 2023
A dreamer finds her way,
Well-her and her companions
She met a previous day-
They speak a strange tongue,
But that is quite okay;
They march through pastel
Landscapes
From place to place
From quest to quest
Another dragon?
Another princess?
(That seems a bit cliche)
But she is quite content
And I am no character
In this event
Just its chronicler
They slay the dragon
And take its scales to market
The princess, with a good degree of flair
Takes a ride with her companion
(Did I mention he’s a bear?)
The dreamer is offered lodging
By a grateful King
She steals his bed at night
(They kind of have a fling)

And the sun crests the horizon
And our hero goes to work
Her friends will wait for her tonight
Did I mention she’s a clerk?
Simon Obirek Oct 2015
Outside, heading eastbound
It's getting warmer outside,
sun is shining, sky is blue.
It all feels right.

Out for a few nights,
music is so loud
colours going everywhere; blue, green, yellow, red, purple;
kaleidoscopic
I wanna dive in
and swim
I miss the tropics.

Pain all around
shooting following shooting
I'll work it out
distant chatters just
filter out into choruses
and phase out.

Ringing in my ears
nose bleeding
memories fading
no more colours
just black

**...
An homage to Washed Out (Ernest Greene). His songs makes me feel nostalgic and I have been longing for something I can't quite put my finger on, unfortunately.
Kat Raven Jan 2021
<There is a violent madness that hides inside all of us, some oppress the chaos, others live in denial.
Once in a blood moon, hidden in a dark room, vibrations of bedlem, a paracosm of two.
For the world that we see through a hidden marquee, a putrid stream for the mentally ill.
Yet with no hesitation, a dark star pulsating, you plunge into the void then pull me through.
Fret not for each thought gives birth to brilliance as we stir the cauldron of the sacred brew.
Blood and water, son and daughter, resilient to the universe we devour and consume.

>I wait silently.... hopelessly, for you.
As if your muse is not enough to pulsate me. My nerves twitch like a drug in your veins. Your words have me in thought everyday, as words really are your forte. Do I imagine it? Or question it? For the violent madness that runs beneath is only left for you to go deep. Living in chains has you so locked you stay stuck to my chaos like glue.
I hope you feel me like I feel you.

<Castration of inward vibrations...Reverberate through these impetuous echo halls. Catapult cadaverous over scrupulous normalities, I choke on every word I hold...
Let us baptize our divine ineptitude in a cauldron of glorious lore.
Most of them are oblivious to the revelation of rushing thunder.
Dripping needles, perfidious servitude teetering the precipice of war.
The voices in your thoughts are the same voices in mine. These voices whisper incantations in the darkness..
There are many in our dreams who watch us sleep, it is they who know us really well. For our talents with our words are hidden in the ink deep in a place we love to dwell. Yet still, it comes a surprise to me we are more than some choose to believe. With a flick of our pen, the stars light the night, we create worlds without even trying.

>If sirens could rush whispers in your soul, you would feel the drums of their forbidden thoughts... lost in hopeless misery, as it consumes your whole being, you feel nothing left but a desire to be, to yearn, to hold. As ever so captivating, thrilling. Can you feel me within you? Holding you down and longing for your mentality. I love to hear you, in words of lost beats

<Ever-so often I feel the rush, I hear the whispers, I feel the drums of passion hit. Each provocative thought and memory a glorious, forbidden, carnal gift. Deeply yearning to merge all emotions until the dock is crushed by the mighty ship. Splashing and churning, sweating and burning, enthralled, trembling and wet. And yet hopelessness and misery that inevitably follows, have left me broken and split. I am sorry to say I feel nothing now but chaos, fear, and regret.
< JDM
> Me

A collaboration with JDM , a sweet friend from California
Ainsley  Jun 2013
Into the waves.
Ainsley Jun 2013
I dip my toes in the tide
adjacent to the edge of my all-consuming paracosm.
The water is cold
alluring
unsteady
absolute.

Within it lies the demise
of one thousand dreams
999 unfulfilled wishes
And just over 13 ‘what if’s.

Right outside my humble fantasy
I spy a silhouette,
my potential self.

Warily I take a closer peek.
The girlish apparition reveals nothing
She seems to hold her breath while I lean farther in
And at long last, deserting all juvenile fancies,
reality greets me as I timidly wade
Into the waves.
Nurul Asyiqin  Oct 2020
Paracosm.
Nurul Asyiqin Oct 2020
A complete separation from other beings,
I feel the sense of joy and happiness.
Entering the world of my own creation,
playing inside paracosm, unbothered.
jdmaraccini  Dec 2020
Dark Raven
jdmaraccini Dec 2020
There is a violent madness that hides inside all of us,
some oppress the chaos, others live in denial.
Once in a blood moon, hidden in a dark room,
vibrations of bedlam, a paracosm of two.
For the world that we see through a hidden marquee,
a putrid stream for the mentally ill.
Yet with no hesitation, a dark star pulsating
you plunge into the void then pull me through.
Fret not for each thought gives birth to brilliance
as we stir the cauldron of the sacred brew.
Blood and water, son and daughter,
resilient to the universe we devour and consume.
JDMaraccini
2020
K G Jun 2016
I feet this heavy sensation thats full of dread
I feel it all around, assuming sleep paralysis
4AM that I started planting subliminal thoughts in my head
Specks like vessels, I had consciously felt before
Struggled against the feeling, a feeling from what I did
I loathe my youth, platonic love, and morbid existence
And there's nothing more candid
Waiting for another chance of life is not right
I'm not like the feckless, like the bandits
Covers may bring sorrow from swive and dives
As long as you’ve got something to say then
It doesn’t matter too much how you say it
Lost, I highly recommend you stay alight
Your jawline against mine is was like...
A wave loudly clashing against a long shoreline
The sillage you had left behind was majestic
You're not like the limpid, like your kindred
Getting rid of your oarless secrets that'll befold
And there's nothing more candid
Glowing white lips that fade
Into silver comely light
Away in a padded close
My paracosm lies prostate
Upon the wings of mine
Upon your ditzy toes
Upon your nacreous face
Connor  Apr 2016
Vivre
Connor Apr 2016
Sunlight
                        kaleidoscopic/
             hue of auburn            
mirror
                    nearby      the       shaded opal porch/

burning   bulb machinery       makes the whole     living room       wider/
                               I wake and remember
                              dreaming that I broke my nose/

"The Art of Looking Sideways" on my desk
the bookshop explosive PIN                      The Price is Right coffee mug
(dad got it in California 2008)
                  outside looking in thru
         the bedside window/
                                                               dusty blinds
stone faced from sleep/
           thoughts are still wandering Luang Prabang
                    gathered to the streets to give alms to the boys practicing
Asceticism yet still
                                         obsessed with love
                                         whether they know it yet or not/
open my front door
in this basement suite
                the brick is bright and blinding
                 squint my eyes
              tho it's lovely           the spiders
            hover camouflaged in hedges separating
my house from
the other house/                   I'd like to see Laos in person one day
beyond spirit
to get sunburned
                              and somewhat holy
write my poetry
in front of Haw Kham's
aureate walls jeweled with palm green/
lucid thoughts/
I'm a pilgrim in my paracosm/

Morning tea, sat down, Cafe Terrace at Night to my left
and to my right
            the hazy lamp that has a shade textured like
             a gas planet
May is 'round the starry bend/
Cherry trees are more comfortable now I think
and that's fine/
Met a gypsy on the bus two nights ago
she wished me a happy life
I hope so
                                     ... and likewise to you/

— The End —