Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Samara Dec 2020
Chimera gave me a
Molotov cocktail
on a Friday night
in a neon-lit
downtown scene.
- - -
they never told
me not to drink it
because they wanted
me to go down in flames.
- - -
so I drank it, and it
burned my innocence
for I will never trust
another when they
hand me a drink
- - -
but i am phoenix
and from the
flames i keep
Hereshecomes Aug 2019
I circle around the halo
That stirs what lies below.
Spinning now
Only excess
materialises in belief form.
What is it about the chimera you construct
For those that don’t exist?
Gasping and grasping on
Slivers from a murdered past
You insist on perfecting gems in souls
Where there are none.
Let it rest my friend … or not
For the fury of Zenobia
Is still lighting
What remains of your life
And mine.
JJ Inda Jan 2019
Harboring dreams,
those that don't allow sleep.
Like nothing
it is still there
waiting for all
that won't come.

A Chimera
ardent in my veins,
like alcohol to an open wound.
Wakes me in the morn,
keeps me up at night.
These nights no more dark than eternal.
Do not speak
Listen to the Silence
Whispering in your ears
Words of wisdom
To wake you from the slumber
Castes by the spell of Reality's lies
Rise from the nightmare
You believe to be life
Living awaits your return
By the bed side.
Do not speak
Pay no heed
To the songs of Sirens
That has made you captives of greed.
Hear your thoughts
It's through those waves
Your being tries to reach your body
To lead you to your needs.
Do not speak
Learn to listen
For you learn
When you listen
The secrets that are never spoken
Yet are floating in plain sight
Only to be perceived by the seeking eyes.
Let's not go down memory lane
For we may not come back sober
But drunk with pain we caused each other
And things will be back to the first squre
Of the entire grid that we have crossed
Or rather somehow,just stumbled across
To stand in this square, together,once again.

Let's not fight,cause it felt nice
Talking to you once again tonight
All of a sudden I wish to hold you tight
And be the source and sink of each others strength
Dare to tell me you do not feel the same ?

Let's not be teens,for we were fools back then
You physical and me emotional
Maybe our grown up depression was meant
To bring us on the same page
But here on let us just be kids
Frolicking in the sun
Falling on the grass
Drinking the rain
And licking our hands
Tasting all the fun we ever had
Relishing those flavours once again!
Everyday I tell her
Not to remember your dimples.
Everyday I tell her
Not to find those crinkles,
Your eyes created
While the smile wrapped itself,
Intimately around your lips
And the first nail of my coffin was hit!

Your heart is stuck in someone else,
And mine I have left in your closet.
After all the time that has passed
I am still staring,
At the empty mug to hold just a drop,
A drop to satisfy this craving
Or maybe just to forget this thirst.
Thirst,quenched not even by the elixir,
Elixir that saved the life
But could not fill the emptiness in it
Could not give it a meaning to be lived.

All I need is  a bit of you,
But sigh! I can have that never.
Yet I love you
Just the way you love her
Someone said it right-
One sided love holds an alien kind of peace,
Peace in the pleasure offered by pain,
Pain that I, so passionately chase.
In the morning,
I woke to this sky that was white
Brightly lit by the sun's light.
Then the temperature rose,
So rose the water droplets in the air
And now my sky was a soft blue
Reflecting all that came its way.
The show ended with all hues,
Creating unparalleled balance of confusion and grandeur
Just like it had planned to.
Then the sky was smeared and smudged with black
Just like the tired,innocent face of a child
After an entire day of play.
But the cold night is made warm
And it's emptiness filled
With the bright bold moon, that radiates
Like the red round dot between the jet black brows.
The tiny sparkling stars
Like the sandalwood paste on a bride's face
Shouts in celebration for all the greatness it has witnessed.

But sometimes without any rhyme or reason
The sky turns grey,
Like most of the time is my mood.
I thought it would rain,but it turned out to be like me too.
Sometimes the grey is too long
The clouds too big.
And they collide like warriors
Producing sparks from their swords.
Thus comes the lightning,the expressions on my face.
The thunder follows close,where I raise my voice.
Then finally it breaks,never into drizzles
But always a stromy rain
Causing destruction
Claiming life's on its way.
Now I have finally realized
It's better to have a drizzle every now and then
To cool the soar,instead of deepening it any more
With either the flood or the drought
Irina BBota Nov 2018
A little bit of reality and a little bit of chimera,
I'm sitting at the table of silence, lonely in this era.
My eyes are fixed on the ceiling like some projectors
towards sweet memories, listening some lectures.

It's a little bit early and it's a little bit late.
About yesterday or about tomorrow should I say?
Anyway, I'm not anything I seemed to be,
I'm not a brave Cupid of hearts that sets you free.

I feel a little bit cold and I feel a little bit warm,
like after the wine that makes everything have a form
which catches fire quickly both in love and anger,
motivated by infinite agony, searching for an answer.

Is that a little bit important, or is it a little bit trivial?
As a sparkle, a living heart of a strange ritual,
in which it seems for her of love to be unworthy,
then she looked in the mirror and learned about mercy.

My words have a little bit of sun and a little bit of storm.
Even if they're telling the ugly truth that wants to inform
that I want to hear enchanted songs of the waves again
but then I think, is my soul lying to me? It's going to drain?

The soul separates all and puts everything together,
even if it's a healed heart, or light as a feather.
Makes a little bit of damage, then something useful,
if it was sad sometimes, it was always truthful.

Doesn't matter if it's on Mondays or Sundays,
we all are an amalgam of tears and smiles in this maze.
Smiles that are hiding, then show up again and again
sometimes as a rough illusion that drives you insane.

Yes, it's a little bit absurd, but it's a little bit ordinary.
Not everything in this world is a cake with a cherry.
We all have inside a little bit of love, a little bit of hate,
as tough as it is, we accept that this is our fate.
Where the wind ruffles my hair
The rain kisses my lips
The sunrays embraces to keep me warm
And the serenity makes me break into a song
Or just a simple humming and wiggling
Where I can lie on the grass to catch my breath
And for hours watch the birds fly
And watch the kids play
Where the innocence once more beats in me
That I run up to them just to taste the shear joy in playing
Where I can spontaneously plunge into a river and then decide Whether to drink it's purity or drown in it's abyssal depth
Or just watch my reflection on its glistening surface
And drift off to distant thoughts with the shepherd's kulning
Where the farthest stars lead me to my deepest emotions
Where the silence of the dark night awakens my soul
There I'll make my bed
On the grass under the sky
And not sleep a wink
For I'll be already living in my sweetest dream
Vikshipta Jun 2017
What its like to be a segment of salacious commodity ?

OH YOU! beautiful fragment of fabricated chimera :
enclosed ! trapped !
inside these avaricious periphery of pseudo rim..
The frangible bedizen of synthetic praxises..
What is the sentiment of being a trade off  legacy ?
while the legitimate corroboration of the quid pro quo cant be found:
yet to this lethal covenant of undesired commingle you are to be bound..
For have they hold the confinement
so do they decide the Nemesis:
To  succumb your esse to the dread of
your ultimating youthful ****** pulp.
And just like a marionette..
there are thee:
concurring to cede for the felicity of those progenitors..
Immolating your notions and aspirations.
vanquished by the fidelity..
Just to commence the relinquish.
Just to cease the sentient.

Oh YOU!!
Just .another ...abiding flesh .
Just. Another....forlorn bride.
I am from a country where talking to a stranger is considered an immoral act meanwhile if you marry the same stranger but hand-picked by your parents then you are a virtuous woman with a right upbringing. WOW society!
Next page