Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Blade Maiden Jun 2018
I realize that
survival isn't
blowing out all my candles
so someone else can be my light
Alice Lovey Apr 2018
Alight my candles within;
I am a dark old church with an old *****.
Peeling splinters of old wood,
Echoing haunts where old stood.
Can you hear a monotonous symphony?
No, listen closely, I’m resonating polyphony
That I could and can still play.

When you alight my candles within
The chamber illuminates and warms your skin.
The once faded paintings dance colorfully
And I recite for you my heart.
Because when I am aglow,
Brightened with the love I need to start,
Nothing could quiet my song
But being alone once more in the dark.
I don’t know why my usual imagery for these things are dark empty rooms with musical instruments, but at least it’s a bit more light (get it) and positive than the last.
an inner conflict dust brew
within this scribe, who offers ye to chew
(like sweet treats metaphorically) thee do
tee incumbent, when Doomsday clock
     counts down minutes few

according Al Gore rhythm  
     unstoppably ticking,
     when life gets turned to global goo
tenderized viz Doctor Zeus

     if not Horton Hears Hoo
then most definitely The Lorax
     (couching urgent morals underscored
     by satellite photographs

     showing melting icecaps or igloos,
which planetary sos, sans in extremis
     requires joint effort of Gentile and Jew,
plus every other sectarian credo,

     dogma, ethos...knew
clear family, and whatnot
     to become linkedin with Linda Loo
yes, we moost not forget

     Old McDonald with his moo
moo there bovine creatures
     agedly hobbling along, or new
lee born, cuz juiced one day

     per three hundred and sixty five
     (six with leap year -
     imagine dragons festooned leotard
     with brand name Oroblu)

or poor ole Whinny The  Pooh
eternally stuck in Rabbit's
     hole sum Hutch as a queue
doth loosely form dreaming up and rue

mien hating solution
     (burning the midnight oil) true
lee trying to remedy plight
     of said bear character,

     perhaps unstated message being woo
king in tandem solutions to resolve
     wretched condition of world wide web
     possible by bridging differences
     between me and you, and you, and you...
Alec Astaire Mar 2018
Another candle on the cake
Another wasted year where nothing has changed
Ya know, when I was younger I thought by this point
I’d have my whole life arranged

“How’s the birthday boy” they ask
They’re not too wrong, you see
If I’m 22 two years old
Then how come I’m only half the man I used to be?

You asked me how I am?
Well, what am I supposed to say?
“Can you supply me with a basic, depthless response?”
I think that’s what you meant to say

Because if I told you how today makes me feel
You’d wonder why I’d have the gaul to ruin Your day
You’re here to celebrate
Whereas I’m here to entertain you until you go away

But Grandma, if you really want in
On today’s daily dose of looming existential dread
Let me blow out the candles first,
And then I’ll let you inside my head

They say when you blow out the candles you’re supposed to make a
wish
And every year- for as long as I can remember
I’ve had but one wish
That always goes unanswered

I wish that someone could love me
And fix me
Put on a suit of armor to help me fight my
Depression and anxiety

I wish for a companion
Who would never rest until I loved myself as much as they love me
Someone who’d never give up on me
For absolutely no reason or rhyme

I’m so sick and tired
Of being so eager for these wishes
Knowing that there’s no magic
But yet, hopelessly begging there’s power in this tradition

But this year, Mary
I didn’t wish for any of that
Because I’m tired of hoping and wishing.
I just wish for it all to be over
Poem could be better, but it’s really all I wanted to say
Kartikeya Jain Feb 2018
And if
we ever fall out,
remind me
to light candles
in the sky.
Because,
You're talking about
darkness.
Vast. Horrifying. Darkness.
Over thorns I have seen flowers lying tonight
I have seen moths near lamp dying tonight

I can see my vision getting blurred enough
Before me, I can't see you crying tonight

My speech is rambling on a prayer rug
And each wish from heart is flying tonight

Ever seen frozen eyes of a dead beloved?
Then, likewise my eyes are drying tonight

In the Imambara of Kashmir, Mirza! ***!
Ask your wish, why are you shying tonight
When flowers rest over thorns, and moths burn before lamps, and when all this happens tonight.
lex Dec 2017
the scent of the winter-esque candle
spreads through the air
like a thick heavy fog
the heat laps upward
as do the flames
and the wax melts away
as does my stress.
candles are so nice.
trinity Nov 2017
my candle ignites
and the wax begins to wane
i, too, start to melt
Poetic T Nov 2017
As I asserted my standing, slowly like sheep being herded
to a cliffs edge. They were each fading in painfully
hostile silence.. Have you seen something knowing that
this time no matter what, there isn't another existence
there is just obliteration of all there essence..

It was like candles being blown out by a chainsaw,
but a candle bled in a form of censorship.
With me though there ending crept through me
like I was feeling every torn filament undoing.
These picture once idyllic, but they were more
notable of what was befalling them and they ran.

Well not ran, the better word would be phasing
from one place to another, but the end result was
the same, a snow storm of embers fell around me.
So beautiful were the shades of each collection.
The aura a little different around each one that
was falling within me, but it was getting to much to
handle so many memories tearing through me.

I looked at the surroundings, it like autumn
leaves setting in snow, vivid emotions seeping
beneath my subconscious, I could see every
moment till that final breath... everyone was
so cold though, that last lingering moment of
fear gnawing within me like paper cuts writing
nothing but expressing everything in nothingness.

I had accumulated so many endings, such sorrow,
some happiness that the lingering moments were
fading. But this garden of white roses was being
blemished, consumed from within. I could still
see these things clinging beneath the surface..

"One with the will to live,
                   must first except the will to die,


"Our first inhale,
                     is exhaling the breath
that will eventually be
                         the last motion we do before death"


Then as this thought progressed through me,
I started to remember things of before?
              before I was a human popsicle.
There were so many machines, so much death
paused in its final exhale. Faces in slumber,
flowers painted around this garden of oblivion.

I looked around, and the bricks of conscious
memories were corroding no longer ethereal,
what was formed now seemed to have vines
collecting within them, contorting what was
pure. I gathered my presence and heeded that
what ever was consuming this place.

"Roses wilt not because
                 of time,
          but they sense the fading of love,



These thoughts were gaining pace in my subconscious.

"Memories are some time better
                       left under the carpet
sometimes we can sweep pain away,


I started convulsing, then once again regained
my composure. was this me or the memories that
we ashes in my mind. From others now fluttering in
this garden of oblivion, that now heeds its name sake
so very well.

The shadows were now surrounding others like
sharks tasting that scent of blood, but here I think
it was fear..
I noticed that the vines were echoing, I slight pulse
of aura permeated from them. In my ignorance of
staring a shadow had lingered upon the painting
of my feet and within a moment a searing pain
collected within. this was it as I started to flake away...

But then it was not me it was the shadow becoming
fixated on me and then cracks illuminated from it and
what was once a lingering gaze of quite a stature...

"What the hell was going on??

It looked at me in vacant gratitude, then saw the shades
lingered upon it and once again ash fell, autumn leaves falling
on fire.. this time it was different though as I grasped upon
its figure it was whole again.. it was more than before though
it was as I was.. It spoke in soft tones..

"You are new here,
                      "Yes, how do you know,
"Because this place is meant for the dead,
         Where are you from?
"Where frozen in death, static decaying life,
               "I recognize you now you were in the stasis chambers.
"Yes, were in our own purgatory"
            "Our own selfish need to linger on more
                        than the clock is meant to count has  lead us here,



I pondered on his references and knew that,
I had done this out a need to exist longer than
time had given me, not thinking of what lay beyond
that notion.
I told him my name was lunar regent, and when I first
got here the place looked much different, but they touched
upon me they feel like ash. He stopped me there!

"You are the course of all what has perspired in this place,
"Me but I didn't do anything?
            "Your alive where we are dead,
                "Your like a lighthouse in the dark,
  "But everything you linger on, drowns in the evanescence,

I stood back in disbelief, I'm the villain!
The desecrator of this once tomb of thought
that has no reason to doubt their existence.
"How do we stop it?
Jump in the pools of shadow and do what you did
before, always grab on when the shades linger on
the new infused apparition of reflection.

We went through this motion, it felt like weeks,
as every emotion that had lacerated within me
fell like tears of happiness from my grasp.
We had continued, and new faces and gratitude
had graced my eyes.. what was once fleeting
images and layers of reflection and thought became
form the oblivion I once gazed up now was a garden
of reality...

"We are all grateful for this last moment.
to see ourselves as we once were,


"But we can feel the petals
                once again fading..


I asked with sorrowful glances of what could be
done as this would just be a reparation of what
just happened.. I found out that even though
clinically dead our brains were monitored and
thought is but energy and all lingered in the
oblivion of each others memories.
This wasn't an existence they wanted they just
wanted to die.. to be noting once again as it was
meant to be..


"We will use our residual energy to force you
out, to bring you back, please end our suffering,


I didn't have time to even speak as I felt immense
pain flood over me, and before I knew it i
was cradled on the floor.. So cold, my sight regained
and I saw other pods, rubbing the frost from the
windows seeing faces that feel like ash before.
This wasn't a life.. this was a garden of oblivion,
and I was the blossom blowing in the wind.


I reached over seeing an emergency panel,
gazing at it for what felt like eternity..
I pulled it, as I did alarms rang..
I tipped over a pod unused.. blocking the door way..
Then I collapsed in exhaustion.


Awoken by the sounds of a phone ringing,
looking up I saw unfamiliar faces.
"Sir are you ok
      "You have been through a traumatic experience.


"Yes, what about those other people,

               "They were already dead sir,

"Frozen echo's in a chamber of ice,
             "Pardon sir what was that?

"Nothing, how long was in there for?

"Two days.  "Two days,

Once I was well I found out each of there names
and visited there graves stones, laying blossoming
flowers on each one.
Your at piece now friends.
                  There is no garden of oblivion only peace..

I walked of realizing, that life is every moment
every breath is one granted by our willingness
to see a new sunrise. Mine will come to pass
and i will be silent not an echo or in darkness
just a memory fading slowly away.
Next page