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Jay M 2d
I was found
A flower of purple bloom
Alone, in a gloom
Until petals of yellow
Scent soothing
Took root not far away

After time
And months of rhyme
She whispered
To the yellow bloom
Said that there was no room
For the two of us

"Wild violet"
I was branded
Called a ****,
Said to be slowly
Choking out the yellow bloom
That in that garden
There was no room
For a vile ****

Alas, a **** I was not
Am not
For I am a flower
Nothing more

But
Call me what you want
Drop venom where you please
My voice perhaps stolen
My leaves torn by your
Shaking hands
Fists in the air
But I hold in
A thousand words
To battle your chaos
Cast away
With every attack
Like leaves to a blower

I won't lie
That's your job
Cruel gardener
Pick all of my petals
Shred my leaves
Pull me by the roots

Still I shall stand
No matter the swinging
Of your crazed trimmers
Snipping away

Though far away
I shall stay
Just a memory
Fueling your chaos
Growing a wall of thorns
Dripping with blood
Around your proud bloom
Of yellow light.

- Jay M
September 18th, 2020
Read it with a mind and heart as open as the sky, and step out of the confines of your own perspective. See it, and feel it.
Oh
New York
New York
How I
would of
loved you

Oh
New York
New York
You've turned
So blue

Oh
New York
New York
I may never
see you

Oh
New York
New York
What else
can we do

New York
New York
You've seen
Too much
Doom

New York
New York
Chaos has
filled your
Womb

New York
New York
your future
lies
in loom

Oh
New York
New York
Don't be
so gloom

New York
New York
I pray
that you
bloom

Dear
New York
New York
Those will
visit
Your tomb
and now
becauseofyoubecauseofyou
all i can write
i can't even write
just
wavescrashingwavescrashing
waves of
c h a o t i c p o e t r y
fray narte Sep 13
It's hard to feel alive when things
are constantly dying inside you.

Some nights, I comb through all my well-kept chaos
as if a secret lover visiting a grave.
These nights, I forget to breathe.

I am sick of asking the cobwebs
how the smallest gap in my ribs
can make room for this much pain.
It has grown into a woodland —
and I, the lost, the helpless prey;
the odd girl out.

Look for my bones among wild lilacs,
covered in forest soil, darling,
and you'll know that some deaths you don't mourn
and some deaths you can't.

Some nights,
I comb through all this well-kept chaos
in search for a sign of life,
but my flesh has been a map
of cigarette burns
and vague memories of dying;
strangers have been sick of laying kisses
on things that taste like
they've been bleeding —
on things that taste like death.
Maybe one day, I, too, will be sick enough
to stop prodding wounds open
to leave poems in the doorstep
of the things
rotting inside me.

Then again, some sorrows
you don't turn into poetry.
Some sorrows you just feel.

Some nights, I comb through
all this well-kept chaos.
Other nights, I bury it
beneath my floorboard,
hoping that there will be no haunting —
no pounding;
just peace.

But then, some chaos you learn to live with;
some, you don't survive.

Some deaths you can't mourn.

Some deaths you just die.
Amanda Hawk Sep 9
Balance
Comes in the morning
Before chaos
Has settled into its afternoon
Routine, I pause
In these moments
Hands open and flat
Slowly breathing, allowing
The light to capture
Me evenly
Nitin Raikar Sep 4
Burning Pyres
Weeping Widows
Charred remains of innocents
Victims of political manipulation!!!

Alas! What has befallen
On this, once omni verdant paradise
A land painted Red
By Artists, who wield brushes
That bathe the canvas of Life
God the Almighty
I pray to you

To instill in the air
The euphony of ringing cymbals
Rather than the cacophony of deafening explosions

For if not
My brethren
Will be drowned
In the Whirlpools of Red Oceans!!!

@Nitin Raikar
My poem reflects the suffering of targeted genocides of humankind and also laments the internecine feuds leading to war and loss of human lives...
Alienpoet Aug 31
There are galaxies inside of me
waiting to be explored.
There are stories to be told that leave you wanting more
there are religions in the chaos of my mind
but I am blind to all the possibilities,
fed by science’s facts
the love in my heart set on targets I will never reach
the knowledge I will never preach
the words I won’t speak
but I am the madness
the chaos the light the order the darkness
I am the shadow of a prophet
a wizard’s fairy tale...
M Cannon Aug 29
My mind is a war zone.
Memories of you hit like bombs
dropped from B-17s.
Rattling me to my core,
then leaving me with the aftermath.

My blue skies turning to grey,
clouded with the wreckage
you chaotically left in your wake.

My mind is a war zone,
but the soldiers have gone.
I'm alone in a barren land
destroyed by what you called love
and choked with the fear
of what comes next.
TazDaManiac Aug 28
Something's coming!!

wait...why?

nothing in sight
insane insights always trouble me

somewhere inside this hectic mess
exists profound enlightenment
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