Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Wilkes Arnold Mar 26
Your eyes met mine and I knew right then
That this was the start of something when
A fire began to blaze within
And my heart beat skipped at the thought of sin,

I leapt from my seat with passions flared
But you mistook the moment we shared
I walked right by, I hate to admit
That I was racing to take a ****
I look forward to your analysis of this deep meaning behind this masterpiece
The hospital lights blink and open their eyes
It's alright
I'm here in disguise
The fever is rife
It spreads in the walls and the life
It falls in a trice
I don't do enough talk
But  I hear you after all
Why do you cry
When the world isn't right
And there's red light in your eyes
Where's your god from the skies
The window at the end
Has a halo that was sent
And it lies, in the dark
With the fireflies
Do you find it alright
That the dark isn't right
And your night doesn't seem to arrive
Well you do enough talk
And I'm still in your sight
So why don't you just write
Out, your heart on my rock
And I'll be here by your side
While you wait for the sky
To give you all the good signs
And I won't be singing in song
But you won't be waiting for long
Till I give you all my love
Remembrances of Wounded Knee

It was a beautiful dream
that ended in the silence
of the dead laying
huddled and scattered
upon the winter ground.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
Sharon Miedema Dec 2020
Midnight at the Matrix.
Only in poetry music, ***.
Sometimes there's a way out.

And a dreamland in the inbetween.
Seeing things you haven't seen.
But there are some boundaries.

There are little worlds behind them.
You can see them but you can't go there yet.
And creatures walking around you ignoring you.
This world is not yet yours.

Midnight at the matrix.
Trying to get ready to relax.
Finishing your last phone call.

You both broke down on the other side of the line.
Both vacuum ****** and you can't get through the end of the bowl.
Cause there's no end at all.
No end in a vacuum bowl.

Still not completely ****** in the same way.
But soon you'll be ****** together in the same old bowl.
One of you just came out of war, the other out of hell.
Not much difference, still a world of a difference.

One is still and the other always ill.
Cause being ****** in a bowl where everything is too much makes you never relax...
Being ****** in a bowl after a war is a calm in the eye of a storm.
An eye of glass....

Midnight at the Matrix.
Only in poetry music, ***.
Sometimes there's a way out.
02-12-20
Naveen Malhotra Nov 2020
A deep sound comes from a hinterland
The voice is of an unknown origin
Neither from up
Nor from down
Neither from left
Nor from right
Neither from front
Nor from rear
It just comes from a hinterland
Ethereal existence I could say
Of someone
Instantaneously known
Indefinitely known
Infinitely known
Subtly known
An elixir of love
It says
Be an agent and convey
I obey, in deference, I obey
Language of silence I speak
I convey what is to be conveyed at this midnight
I be out of mind and sight
Good night!
Elias J Davidson Oct 2020
I didn't go to school
fourteen hours a day to work at Walmart.
Its no small wonder these people smoke.

You'll never get ahead.
Just earn your daily bread and drink to forget
that poverty is slavery.

And no, you can't take a break.
You're in a "Right to Work" state:
money talks, you don't get a say.
You're fifty thousand dollars in debt.

Too many things to do
in not enough time for you to do it alone.
Don't let them take advantage of you.
October 2020
Ibrahim Nebulae Sep 2020
prophetic dreams
your poetic face
turned my pen
into poetry
knowledge of stars
one can never know
in this truth i seek
was revealed to me,
can't remember still
only through his will
how it felt
at heaven's door,
no words
can describe
bowing down
onto the floor,
an ethereal glow
i seek to know
bowing down
at heaven's door...
Next page