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M Solav  Sep 2018
Flood
M Solav Sep 2018
We were mixed up when it built;
One another forced to coexist.
As it drew us high and higher still,
Below us grew the abyss.

Overflowing with ecstasy,
We left our hearts astray.
The obnubilating and obsolete
Had gotten our way.

Obstacles vanished one by one,
Increasingly slaying the beast.
Moments we thought we'd won
Are when we'd won the least.

We stretched out our hands towards the sky
Like wretched ghosts wrapped in disguise,
As though we had just found a new paradise
With the devil ahead leading as our guide.

We followed him throughout the land:
"This way leads us to the great fountain",
And now we're stuck in a desert of sand
Wondering when oases shall be attained.

We've taken a bet against our nature.
Was it anyone-in-particular's fault?
"For every curse there'll be a cure,
For every flood there'll be a drought."

Once more, again, we shall repeat,
To morrow, and for ever more.
When the sunshine now seems to greet
And when the darkness falls,

Comes that nighttime of our lives;
We ponder what we've been,
But what we're we supposed to be
When the pact was always sealed.

So we wait in such anxiety,
The impatience growing itchy;
And we amass, tall in piles,
To crash onto the shores like the sea.
Written in August 2016.
Jack Jenkins Apr 2016
It's easy to say I love you when you are face to face.
It's easy to say I love you when you are inside someone.
It's easy to say I love you when they are caring for you.
It's easy to say I love you when the butterflies are in your
stomach and every waking moment is consumed with one another.

But it's not easy to say I love you when they want nothing to do with you.
It's not easy to say I love you when you know they don't love you.
It's not easy to say I love you when it's been a consistent battle to
remain friends.
It's not easy to say I love you when you always choose guys who
make you feel less than you are.
It's not easy to say I love you when I have been waiting four years for
you to feel anything for me.
And it certainly is not easy to say I love you when there is an ocean
separating the two of us.

I don't love you because I need you, I need you because I love you.
Love is not a feeling, or an emotional connection, or an opportunity not to be alone.
Love is dedication, a choice to knit your heart and soul to another because
nobody else can compare to the joy, peace, affection, and trustworthiness that you have.

So I love you. I love you. I love you.
You may never read this, but it's the deepest part of my love for you.
//On her//
This was my first ever poem, written in December of 2015.
Umi Aug 2018
Tell your tale to the wind,
Be scattered across the sky, sing without ever being rewarded,
The falling of the leafs may be a sign of change, a warning of colder times crossing your path in this loitering darkness which takes over,
Allure is the thought of hope guiding, leading, escorting you through the misery of your own conscious, out to a far more pleasant world.
Wretched, you fight on as it slowly slips away, loses its strengh,
It is heartbreaking to watch them trying to get back, not flinching despite their wounds and scars they carry from the river of time,
Stained in crimson at last the flower petals of the falling season, reflect upon death repeatedly, with each one falling the soil cries out.
Take a dance with me in this distorted somber dark there is nothing to be sad about, the fate to be forgotten is the fate of every face, one day,
They wither over like the roses during autumn, fall from grace alike the petals of the sunflowers when their time to leave for the next generation has come, or alike the dandelions scattering their seeds,
But most importantly, is to not forget that whilst existing you can make a change, for yourself, for the better, for others,
Maybe you are their light their flower of a spring dream.
Even if humans continue to live wretchedly,
Living, is what I find very beautiful.

~ Umi
Don't cross the border of the conscious too early, fall when the time to wither has come.
Troves of rotting treasures
Marked the highest morning tide
Where the ocean’s foaming tongue
Left its print upon the land.
I trifled with the sea wrack
That was scrawled upon the sand
When a seaborne scent came wafting;
Onward sailing to the shore.

Pale, aghast, I stood in awe
To curse the wretched thing I saw.

Yet counting footprints from the scene
The vision haunts me all the more;
Forever sailing to the fore
Upon the winds of sordid thoughts,
Where my mind is ever stained,
Though one question there remains -
How a body, once alive,
Could be so full of eels.
CK Baker  Dec 2016
Cinque Terre
CK Baker Dec 2016
The napalan man in a violet cape  
descended the stair with a lopsided gait
a wretched procession, subscribers in cue
rattling off as they stream from the pew  

sounds and smells from a shadowy place
a catholic priest to gin up base
lanterns strung from bolted doors
cobbled streets and wooden floors  

stepping stones and iron bell
fortified by the citadel
hallowed halls and sepulcher
dragon cane for the horse drawn tour

castle turret,  archer holes
centaur scribed in chamber bowls
garden columns in courtyard view
the blood ballet and hullabaloo  

ancient tombs on warrior grounds
gods and saints who made their rounds
goliath still with battered scythe
knelt in prayer and mummified  

battle fires and crowds that roar
gallows, caves, abysmal war  
gargoyles flock the terraced *****
pearly gates to bring on hope  

serpents, snakes and burning ash
lava bombs and trident clash
mariners drift in absentee
as neptune rises from the Tyrrhenian Sea
Drunk lovers writing songs on stages of upset,
Corners of rooms filled with fools, kissing whispers of sweet melody
Wretched beings cast aside, stare from afar at their scenes of lust
Drunk lovers writing songs on stages of upset,
Look upon those wretched beings standing deaf to your melody
Richard Barnes Jul 2018
I live in the light of a purple sun,
waters deep,
oceans black,
hurricanes  glow red with their own light.

Hell’s madness rules with no mercy in sight.  

Wretched souls rise with the tide  

then swallowed whole by the purple sun’s light    

The soul cry for peace but receive only carnage and hate.

What god approves this madness?  

Greatness born and dies in filth and mud. 

No honor to the dead and the living becomes a disease.
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