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Madeleine May 4
To whom ever finds this bottle
My message is to you
I want to say now
I'm sorry If It sounds like I'm venting
But really I just want to tell someone
What's on my mind
And a little about me
But not know who I am telling
For some reason
That is comforting

I myself am not the brightest bulb
And I may make you want to
Hit your head against a wall
Sometimes many in a day
Because I spoke faster than my mind
Was thinking
My mind is weird
For if you ask something of me
I know I can do it
But yet my mind has a panic mode
And in a way forgets how to do it
Or the item you wanted me to grab
I question it for some reason
Even though I shouldn't have

So yea I am not all that smart
Sometimes I feel really ******
And just worse than dirt
And it's hard because I know
I am
Smarter
And better than that

I do have my moments though
Where I don't always think, rather act first
But it manages to put a smile on your
Face and make you giggle
That usually helps to make me feel better
But thinking back I feel dumb
But remember that I made you smile
And so I smile

I try my best to do better
For I love learning new things
And doing anything
That sounds different
Or fun
And an adrenaline rush
I will say yes to
Because that is such an amazing thrill

I may not always make sense
And sometimes I struggle
Putting together my thoughts into sentences
I get there eventually
But I get there

So if you're okay knowing
this little Bit about me
I hope this message
in this bottle
In your hands
Finds me
But if you do not wish
To want to know me
Then toss me back
Message in bottle
for someone new to find
annh Jun 2019
Our initials chiselled,
With a crown cork bottle cap,
Into the trunk of our favourite tree,
Will the world wonder in time to come,
Whatever happened to you and me?
Kassan Jahmal Feb 27
Empty: as the word meaning a
glass bottle in Africa.

I'd have my fill;
to the brim of life's expectations.
Expected of the plenty from the very
little I have given.

Life is that empty,
as many are trying at their fill.
On the straight and narrow, of where
it sits.

Hoping it won't spill.

How tall do you measure your glass
view of life?
Fragile are the moments; tapping on
the taps of glass.

Hoping it won't crack.

This bottle is what I make of it's fill;
Am I overburdened, or overflowing,
with the cares of the world, or whether
the Holy Spirit?

A question, only with the answer from
within; and as I ask from Him.
mark soltero Oct 2021
slowly chipping away my manhood
with my lips pressed against the cylinder
sweet and softly wrapped around
ready to take the blow

ridiculous in my silly little ways
my desire to die was unkind

the bottom of the bottle is bittersweet
but only if you want it to be

the salty bedrock tastes like hell
life in pain is okay
you're already dead that way

you only left small burns in my heart
I bet you never even felt that
but I never cared it seems
and I think that's only fair to me to believe that
Once a year its champagne!
I feel calm passionate and teary.
It gets my head to Paris
  As life is broken down goes out
in transition or revelation,
there's a greàter darkness then the one we inadvertently fight,
the darkness of the soul
that has lost its way.
I was chosen by great sages crossing paths the sting of my blindfold lingers noone sees hope or their future, or where it leads we know only that it's bought in pain and sacrifice.
Letting go what I loved the most.
was eternal loss, having
no reparation, neither in time,
nor in eternity.
My love river is truth it's mouth is
cosmic creation.
He measured sensuality
secretively, and in shadows 
he showed me feathers of half
a man syllhuette of him,
and feels guilty I just fill in blanks,
why smack a devolving face?
And what the heck!
I first measure people in trust.
then love, as true love is rare.
Trust tells love where to roam.
Love can't be made perfect
in distrust nor fear of rivals.
When I give my heart I do,
When I share my dreams too.
I do not drown in midnight
   dew not retreat;
but I won't take sand in my eyes.
After the loving I go from rags
to riches in his love or shine
to wiser horizons..
~~~~~~~~~
Mr and Mrs Andrews.
At Karijinbba
https://youtu.be/NRt6YZV0Fz0
lua Apr 2021
my words
might wash up
against your shore
in torn up shreds
each scribbled letter faded
obscured by time
obscured by rippling waves
that thrash and tear
each piece left vague
dowsed in mystery
and a lingering
a longing
to be read

soon
maybe
next time
i'll be mature enough
to put them in a bottle.
Patrice A Jan 2021
I wish I could fit myself inside a bottle,
that travels across oceans
sailing off with the message,
earth is not home
anymore
and that I'm better off,
living in this beautiful irony
of getting by
with the swelling, and the panics and the wild spasms
of the waters—

the only place
where I could
never
drown.
Shevaun Stonem Nov 2020
After leaving I thought I knew it all,
and that’s the worst part.
Because all I ever wanted was silence
but now the silence pierces
like a dart.
And I thought I was strong to walk away
from ruins- but tell me,
does it take more strength
to walk or build, in all honesty?
And all the words I chanted to my heart
are the opposite of what I now croak
from the bottom of an empty bottle,
from the hollow of my soul,
from the redness of my eyes,
from the fullness of my mind
and every ounce of my wit
now only proclaims,
you made me a hypocrite.

hypocrite | shevaun stonem
been there, felt that too?
Valentin Busuioc Oct 2020
in a thick milk bottle
a dark green one
which grandfather found on the beach after the war
having inside a shriveled yellow paper
without any drawing
without any inscription
the grandmother's ashes stayed for a while

grandmother being skinny
the bottle was almost empty
so the grandfather put the paper back in place

when he missed her
he took the bottle
put it on his chest
and spoked to her
and when my grandmother had to answer him
he was turning it like an hourglass
and so he did for two years
until he crouched too
(although it was harder
because he was hefty)
in the milk bottle

then
to make room for him
I finally took that sheet
and I stuck it on the window

when it rains on the sea and it's lightning
on both sides of the paper
two overlapping palms can be seen
one of a woman
and the other of a man
crossed in filigree
by a single line of life

nothing else
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