Ocean T 1d

a collection of invisible ink tattoos
scrawled on the surface of my skin,
secrets written on my face,
these hands trace letters
the line of my s
printed on shaking knees,
shine a light on me
and you'll see.

written on 19/10/17 sitting on the grass at a local park, only slightly warm weather, heavy shoulders and a heavy mind

Dreams of misty forests
Keep me walking in my sleep
Searching for the answers
I find only with my feet

Songs of old religions
Sultry scent of old perfumes
Strange fires burn within me
I dance to their ancient tune

Memories and voices
Echoing through my mind
The truth is far stranger
Than any fantasy I may find

Dreams of dancing figures
Haunting every step I take
These songs will keep on singing
Until I am awake

Greetings my Beauties! Thought this would be proper for the time of year, so enjoy and Happy Samhain! :)
Jamie Rose May 5

What if all the colors we see are wrong?
What if there is not a difference in skin color or a rainbow?
What if our brain makes up what we see so the world will seem less dull?
What if God is a scientist and our universe is simply an experiment?
What if the air we breath is like water and when people go missing it's because a greater being went fishing and the people who were abducted were just caught and sent back?
What if our lives are just an illusion and we're somewhere in a test tube?
What if extras in movies cause everything that happens in the main character's life?
What if we all die tomorrow?
What if we all live tomorrow?

I asked once
“Why did dad die young”
And I got this answer
“God wanted more angels”
Here’s the catch
He was Buddhist
I’ve wonder that for years now
What is the afterlife?
If there was heaven,
Did the people who didn’t believe
Get in heaven?
Or are they doomed
For the eternal flames?
I wonder some strange things
I guess you have to wonder
To get answers.

Star BG Oct 4

Where are you SUN?
I wonder,
on this night where cloudy thoughts
match night sky that hides the moon.

Where are you,
burning lantern of light?
On this night where hours seem like days
and worries build.

I hope you come up soon,
so I can get lost in my busy day.
And perhaps
get some rays filled with answers.

StarBG © 2017

I couldn't sleep tonight so here I am playing again with my corral of words. I woke them up early and I am riding my little stallion word palominos. Now I will take them to bed and ride them in my dreams. LOL
Lady K Milla Sep 26

You were the kettle to my water
My sanctuary
The vessel of the walls where I found a warm embrace
I was well aware of your heat and I loved you
But there was a point
A boiling point
In which you never whistled for warning
I will always question why you
boiled me to steam that day.
Why you committed to have me vanish without proper reason.
I know you heard the gurgling to my cries
As I pleaded for you to tell me why
The last of me left with an echo
That searched for an answer
in a hollow souled container.

Mystic904 Sep 25

This one I agree with you
Mind's playing games with you
Baseless plans to maneouvre you
Utterly nothing, know that too

Why do we all suffer heartbreak
Why always put our life at stake
Save drowning people by the lake
Why do we have the victim's take

Weird questions again and again
3-Butyl-5(3,4-Diethyl Pentyl) decane
Like this, they're driving me insane
Take a breath and please try again

Solution to the problems found
Sherlock just got astound
White eyes all browned
'Not natural to be bound'

Stupendous ideology just created
Mental efforts all appreciated
Sensitive topic well debated
A golden reward now awaited

"Topics like these dont really end
None of the two in reality apprehend"

Human Reflection
Isabelle Sep 20

If I was the question
Would you be the answer?

Work in progress.
Been so out of character lately.
Art Sep 12


I taste it daily.
The salt of consequence on the side of my tongue,
Burning my mouth.
Punishing me.

Love is lost.
Shallow and low,
Like a pool of water
Two feet deep,
Predictable and shit flavored.

I taste every answer before it’s heard.
But I deny it just the same.

I dig for the unpredictable.
Muddying my hands in search of
A new flavor.
Drunk as I am at 4 in the morning,
I ask for an answer that I’ve already tasted,
Hoping to be surprised.

I’m not.
I’m given an answer that I already know.
But I pursue it just the same.
I send poems to lost loves,
Knowing they won’t answer,
But I do it just the same.

I find myself alone.
I’ve accepted it.
But I crave companionship,
Just the same.

Like the grass in my pipe.
I crave it.
Love it.
But it kills me.


Don’t make it awkward.
Don’t say it.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
Don’t say it.
Don’t make it awkward.

You already know,
I say.

No I don’t,
She says.

She’s lying
I know it.
I taste it.

She lives in bliss.
I live in fire.

Don’t say it.
Don’t make it awkward.
I don’t know.

She says this to dampen a blow
That I won’t feel.
I’ve felt it too many times.

Maybe she didn’t know.


I’ve lost the sense of caring,
I say it just to say it.
Knowing the answer.
Just to see what happens.

And again I’m forced to move on.
To know that it’s unreciprocated
As it so often seems to be.

Insufferably predictable.
Six months I knew,
Yet I hoped to be surprised.


Confidence remains,
Or perhaps it was born.
Resilient as the day it fell out of the womb.
Unphased by negative response,
Simply frustrated,
Urged to move forward and brush off the needles
Poking at its chest and temples and tongue.
How can a heart die if it has already been pierced?


I’ll keep digging,
Searching for a new flavor
Until something sweet sticks.
Until some light shines through the cracks.

I’ll make it awkward.
I’ll make it weird.
I’ve been pierced enough.
I’ve been numbed long enough.

Stab me again.
Try it.
Pick a vein.
Try it.
I hope to feel it.
I want to feel it.


True sadness
Is something that can’t be described.
For some,
Fresh and temporary.
Old and rooted.
Experienced in different ways
Left to ferment
Through a curious cathartic flavor of isolation.

I’ve fallen into that deep void
Seeking companionship where there is none.
Only to be stabbed in a living heart,
countless times
Until it finally stopped beating.

A sequence following the past, present and future.
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