Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Of a lifetime
In a lifetime
Like traffic
Blurred or sharp
Forgotten or framed
For a lifetime
Through a lifetime
Julian Moses Jan 2020
Broken scuttled thing
I am not
Extension becoming of you
fervor toy
Begotten of you
for you
Because me
and you
Unscupper’d cavern
my mind
Blanks before you
Untimely departures
demand becoming

Wings burn slowly with the night
My wintergreen hands uncupp’d
Beholden to the penance.
Hey, I’m back.
Robert Guerrero May 2019
Lost for words yet again
1:24am still awake
Head filled with screams
Laughter following
Hounds on a fox hunt
Looking for a sign
Where the rabbit tracks start
Tumbleweeds rolling
Maybe if I keep listening
I’ll finally hear that poetic voice
The shy one
Only speaking when it’s had enough
When silence becomes its enemy
Provoking embers into flames
I’ll continue to jot down
Asking if it has anything to say
Alcohol anonymous meetings
Share your feelings
The reasons for your actions
Pass when you don’t feel like it
Somethings got to give
Please just say something to me
Even if it is
Another suicide note
We can’t carry out
Deaths not a fast food restaurant
We simply wait for a table
When you feel like writing but you have too much to say and it become a jumbled mess of words. I call it abstract poetry. Eventually something makes sense
muteD Oct 2018
Time .
One of the slowest ,
yet fastest things I know .
Having the ability to pass in a second
while also having the strength to stop and drag along .
I hate time .
Especially when all my
time is spent
waiting on others .
It’s like time is just idling ,
lagging ,
falling farther and farther behind .
until it becomes nothing ,
nothing but a clock with no hands ,
all because of a decision .

I decided to spend all of my time just waiting,
standing by without cause because
time was on hold .
but if I only knew what pausing time would do.
Leaving me w the feeling of being lost and confused .
Maybe then I would have just pressed play
even if that meant I had to play by myself
at least time would have been pressed
to move along .
instead of yearning for
company .
Imagine passing through infinity ..
How lonely that would be .
To never have anyone to tell my dreams ?
That would not be an ideal fantasy .
Yet time is forced ,
with me in the passenger seat ,
to break itself down .
Demanded to spend half of itself alone.
Completely cloaked
Half in radiant light
Half in soul ******* darkness
But always
ALL alone .
What would this world be without time ?
The world would be me .
Alone yet free .
Alone but free .
But being alone and free
is for eternity
not for me .
What do you think this poem is really about ? Writing this made me realize how abstract my poetry is and I love that . I love understanding what I do .
The winds,
the cyclones,
the glaciers of life...
in the cluster of day-to-day happenings...

Sun shines and Sun sets..
becoming a true friend
and a divine dictator

a super sarcasm..

for the Supreme has always pampered
and caressed my impermanence

with a hug so cozy and full of blissful silence..

making me realize..
the undefined in the crust of my abstract life..

-- Published and Copyright work by Rashmi Pitre

— The End —