Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
J J Oct 2019
One day the moon will stop.
    Settling it's last motion unto eternal stillnes;
   And the ground will quake, craters will rattle

And we'll lift like lanterns, light as lit matchsticks
  As we rise to the final night sky.
   Joining the ranks of stars forever stillborn.

The oceans will quiver along one last circlet
  In ode to their past life and the lives they lived through,
   And we will look down at our old skin...

         Never feeling ready enough to properly reincarnate;
Dream Fisher Oct 2019
Right before the world ends,
I wonder if people will still hate,
If they would try to fix the mess
Or simply still cast blame.
I wonder if they'll forgive old pain,
Let hurt fall from their chest,
Or be angry until damnation came
With every thought they had left.

Right before the world ends,
Would you care which people came from where?
Would you care about documentation
For those who wanted better life and found it here?
Would their skin color make them less human?
Would you hate them, would you dare?
What about ****** preference?
Do we hope they get scorched too?
I'm a dying human, tell me what are you?

Right before your world ends,
Did you think about the traffic jam,
How much money you had earned,
How about your makeup and hair?
I bet you thought of someone you loved,
Hoping to see them there...
Right before the world ends,
You'll never see it coming
So why not make that change today
Instead of filling the world with hate.
We're right on the middle
Of the end of the world
If I die, in the fight for our lives.
Will I wake up tomorrow,
Under glorious suns,
Or with another battle?
With the never ending rythm,
And the rhyme of decision day.
bRoOOOO
Freedom doesn't always come with the truth,
Yet the truth always comes with your freedom.
Idk, probably makes no sense. You can't be free without the truth surrounding you, but the truth doesn't always set you free. That's the way I see it.
Dominique Aug 2019
Darling, your fingertips
Are such a warm shade of life
They leave stains on the water you brush,
Though my blood slips away quite at ease

After you've pulled away
The blueprint for your genesis stays
Penny-shaped, an indent on the surface
Spread outwards in a wingspan and blooming

Encouraged by the breeze, you take root
In the flesh of the fountain through the day
And at night, a new you steps out to greet me
With the new moon
Perhaps I'm dreaming

Ethereal, you appear to me
Dressed in dilute headlight gleam,
The water gives rise to your colours
So I can peer through my curtains, trembling

And watch you, once again,
Washing your blameless hands of me
In the pool of the night sky which blazes
Deep yellow with the blueprint for another you
The cycle continues before my blurry eyes

Maybe this time you'll bring Armageddon down
To see me soon, soon
I'll watch the sky erupt with love in silence

At least when you push me away a third time
I won't have to miss you ever again,
Consumed by ravenous starlight.
if she ever comes back i'll let her read this poem
i hope she laughs
i hope she likes it
Tommy Randell Jul 2019
We are clever men. We chart the Cosmos out there on fire against the freeze
With Science & Technology. We define its patterns and are as sure
Of Time and Space as we are of the particles that curve and flare,
Ascribing rules and formulating Truths from their colliding deep under ground.
We seek to preserve Mankind, to let it journey out to find a more universal shelter.

For this Earth we live upon is a place of many fragile shelters.
From the temperate forests to the latitudes that freeze
We think we know it, we think to own it, this ground.
So much an act of certainty we believe we can be sure
It is ours for ever, that we control it because we have a certain flare -

And we do, we inherit, we learn, we invent. We have imagination, to be sure,
But all of this, all of this Evolution, this is not sure ground
For thinking any of it or us will last. We trust this shelter
In a hubris of arrogance. Because we have looked back from deep space to see humanity flare
Like  a beacon against the black zero of an infinite deep freeze

We attribute such uniqueness to ourselves. In this we forget the background.
The universe is a furnace of stars. Stars are furnaces where infinities flare,
Where what is made is in time unmade - The Cosmos is one slow simmer. Freeze
That thought there. Are we safe on this Earth shelter?
Think of all we are, all that we conceive. Of what exactly can we be sure?

We can be sure the Sun will just reach out. From its slow simmer. We know the flare
Will take 8 minutes to get here unannounced. We know there will be no where to shelter.
During the resulting catastrophe there wont be anything about which we will not be sure.
The  atmosphere will burn, the oceans will boil, and the lifeless black cinder remaining will freeze.
Nothing will be left that is above ground.  Nothing will be left below ground.

After the flare, the Earth, and the moon it sheltered,
Nothing will be more sure or more frozen, nothing will be left resembling anything like  ground.
A Pentina (5 line verse form with rotating line endings etc etc) I wrote this for a competition to use the five given words...

Freeze. Sure. Flare. Ground. Shelter.

Didn't submit it in the end, not quite happy with it yet. But I do enjoy wrestling with a confining format but having an image to portray ... and, of course, 5 fixed words!
Dominique Jun 2019
The silhouettes are all the same
When formed by falling nuclear rain;
And that's the real catastrophe:
No difference between you and me.
Without individuality we have nothing :)
Strung Jun 2019
You liar
Little liar spitting in my eyes
Who am I to tell you who or what is better?
Pain and rhymes and all our ******* time
Is wasted playing games of true or false
Deep in our own seething breathless hearts;
Life and death and all the painful nothing in between
Is a dream we can’t begin to see
As surrendering to nothing.

Burn it all—
Armageddon—fall.
Kneel to God’s great wrath
As he takes your heart deep in his throat and breaks it will his laugh.
A demon crawling along the floor of my mind
Breaks the silence
Ylzm May 2019
in seven of sevens,
in time, times and a half,
from the very first night,
the harvest is completed.

the fruition of the leaven of truth,
once a strange tongue,
coded in familiar languages;
unquenchably burns on altars.

a foreign bride awaits,
the reason a man leaves his family;
love shall be awakened and aroused,
for the time is right!

the light, fully revealed.
a child, a new creation:
King of kings for a thousand years,
then Armageddon!
Next page