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J Feb 2019
Truth is,
most of us
are junkies.
Always
chasing for
that hit,
paying with
our hearts,
all for the
high we get
from the
sweetest drug
called love.

But
I promised
myself that
I’ll be sober
and clean.
I need to
get you
out of
my system.
Out of my system.
Em MacKenzie Jan 2019
I savour the coffee taste on your tongue and on your lips,
it’s reminiscent of my throat when a word slips, or when each pill drips.
The less and less I sleep,
the more secrets I keep,
whisked away in stolen conversation
but all the thoughts; lost in translation.
Squeeze the trigger, pull the plug,
I now figure you’re just another drug,
I won’t get clean; this time I’ll overdose,
I couldn’t hope to wean when you’re still this close.

So turn up the boiling scalding water,
you know that it’s time to come clean.
Submerge yourself or don’t even bother,
appearance doesn’t matter when you’re never seen.

I was worried I’d be trapped on a different side,
resulting from the bleaching of the darkness that I tried to hide,
covered in a soft pastel portrait of a stranger,
who balanced pleasure and pain with no thoughts of danger.
I admit I’ve written letters before
as a safety net,
at the time it meant more,but you’re still upset.
“I’m cautious while being reckless,
always nauseous but please respect this,
I’ve been done for years,
and now it’s gotten too trite,
my lip quivers from the tears,
where once I just used to bite.”

So get out all of the soaps and the oils,
you know that it’s time to come clean.
Replenish the lukewarm with water that boils,
and continuing scrubbing and lathering inbetween.

They all ask the five W’s and one H,
and expect a definition on abrupt command.
In my bath the purity saturates,
I only find bubbles and water spill from my hand.

It’s hard to describe in written word
the completion that was suddenly felt,
it was my first sight and first sound heard;
a power that could make the galaxies melt.
She threw a blanket statement over me,
but it failed to cover me up whole.
In the corner of her eye all I’ll ever be,
is frozen feet walking out of control.

So let yourself soak until you dissolve,
you know that it’s time to come clean.
It’s within the water we’re bound to evolve,
and if all fails we’ll glisten and gleam.
A Simillacrum Jan 2019
How clean is clean
when the cleaning began
from the floor of a sunken ship?
Barnacles grace the walls in the place
of family, or a familiar face.

When filth is a given, and given
in projection to the overtly empathetic
as a matter of course, why implore?

Because you don't implore,
you explore as an entity
reaching for a meaning.

The question becomes,
do you fight, or do you invite
the coming cessation?

Even with a gun, and a view to ****,
the power the bullet affords
would surely fail to thrill you.
The best charlatans paint your hands red,
as you're sleeping in bed, preemptively.

Let the liars lie, let the builders connive.
Uninterrupted access to their own confines.
To Narcissus, the cool nod is colder than the knife.

Let the liars lie, let the builders connive.
When the company you keep requires the sacrifice
of your authenticity and your reality, just leave.

It'll never get good. It'll never get great.
It'll never be worth the investment.
Poetic T Jan 2019
Some may think where
                              stained.

But where just
          not there
               version of clean.
Crandall Branch Jan 2019
a shower
is like
love:
you rinse of
the dirt
and end up
with only
the cleen
hello guys :) sorry i haven't posted much, i have bean busy with my crab farm
Simon Soane Dec 2018
In 1410 the village of Little Darling was a pretty nice place to live,
it’s houses were stout and wonderful and the people had lots to give,
the lord who owned the area was benevolent, he never ruled with an iron claw,
he spoke with softness and kindness, not knowing a cajoling roar,
he left the people to get on with their lives, unless they needed a helping hand
and then he’d be there to provide a peg up somewhere in his land.
Because of this the folk who made home here had it better then most peasants from this time,
who were condemned to a life of grinding servitude as if their living was a crime,
they were happier and joyful and free from the toil of subjugate,
each second was a pleasure and every minute spent first rate,
however there was one thing they shared with those who spent every day under the cosh;
everyone was filthy, no one liked to wash.
Only about once every 10 days would they pull bathing water from the well,
If they were especially filthy and their stink they wished to quell,
the rest of the time they didn’t care that they resembled a muddy shrub,
or their faces were still covered in last weekend’s off grub,
nor did they think it mattered if their hair was a matted mucky mess
or that compost heap didn’t smell more than their locks, it actually smelt less,
to them water was mainly a drink when their mouths were feeling parched and shoddy,
not a soothing liquid  with which to  cleanse their body.
Everyone in Little Darling didn’t mind being ***** and looking a unhygienic fright,
actually not everyone, everyone’s not quite right.
Alice always wondered why folk didn’t wash
and that’s not because she wanted everyone to be pretty, pristine and posh,
she just pondered as she daily made herself all gleam,
“why does nobody else round here care about being clean?
They all wallow around in their own filth like a burrowed germ,
more buried in soil than a busy earth worm,
I don’t get when there is plentiful water from wells not that far away
why don’t they dose themselves in the aqua good at any point in the day?
She thought, “Of course it’s their own life and if you never harm anyone else you can never do anything wrong,
but how how how can they fester in their own awful pong?”
So every day Alice would get up before she heard the going to work bell
and go and fetch some water to cleanse herself of smell,
she’d make herself all fresh and totally sans of grit and straw
and revel in the gleam she had coming out of every pore.
Everyone else in Little Darling all thought Alice was great,
a truly smashing lass who had tons of friends and mates,
yeah sometimes they’d remark to her “I don’t get your penchant for keeping yourself immaculate if I had to say
but who cares, I love you, have a fantastic day!”
And yes due to the mud in the village sometimes Alice would get herself all shiny and within a couple of hours look like she’d just crawled out of a cave,
but she didn’t mind as starting the day with a sparkle was what she did crave!
One fine day the folk of Little Darling decided to throw a big party as they adored a drink, a chat and a jive,
just have a massive night of  dancing, where they could give appreciation for being alive,
as Little Darling was a ace place they invited another village to join in the hedonism,
as they wanted folk to bask in hours through a wonderful prism!
When Alice heard news of the shindig she let out a chirping coo,
as revelling in the realm of fun was what she was really made to do!
As the week whiled to an end the day of the party came,
Alice could hardly contain herself as carousing ran through her brain,
she picked out her favourite garments feeling all of a super gathering quiver,
and then full of beans moseyed on down to the river,
she washed away with gusto and dressed all primed to go out,
“I’m on my way to get down and groove!” was her gleeful shout.
She started making her path to the good times, feeling all content,
she couldn’t wait to be immersed in the hub of blazing merriment,
as she was walking to the barn where the party was she encountered others making their journey to fun,
lit they all were by the going down sun,
someone said “hey Alice, I reckon you’ve spent an eternity scrubbing yourself for this bash”,
another said “yeah, I bet you’ve wasted hours by the river to get yourself prepared for this night on the lash!”
Alice replied and remarked, “yes I may have used my time getting myself ready and not been able to enjoy the chills and sits
but at least I don’t have hay in my hair like you ******* smelly *****!”
Everyone burst out laughing and happy all skipped to the revelry,
the slow dusk sky reflecting calm as far as the eye could see.
They jaunted into the barn with the music already in full swing,
the harp, drum, lute and trumpet players all doing their tuneful thing,
Alice grabbed a jar of foaming ale and started moving her body to the beats,
each noise in the air a consummate amazing treat!
Then from out of the corner of her eye she spotted a guy with dancing around in the air,
who'd cleaned his garb,
and washed his hair!
Alice thought "Wow! That guy doesn't look like his stench would make my opticals weepy,
in actual fact he makes my heart all leapy!"
They saw each other and felt swirls and sparks,
a knowing of what could and will be lover’s larks,
a chance they both knew could never be missed
and finalised their first look synchronicity with a longing kiss.
Everybody else stopped,
turned to look,
and knew a little bit more about
loves' rushing roars,
and couldn't help but breaking out
into a round of applause.
Alice felt a dawn,
reciprocated the smile of her fresh guy
and hand in hand they left the barn,
on their lips a glimpse of forever,
and went to find a empty stable,
where they could become all
***** together.
Esther Dec 2018
for me, i've always liked the idea of drowning

it seems so peaceful, serene

slowly sinking into the dark abyss

consumed by the water that once gave you life.
gone was any trace of you, i think i am finally clean.
Desire Dec 2018
WASHED BY BLOOD
WHITE AS SNOW
XXV. CLEAN
-
Six-word poems for the season
halfmoonprxnce Dec 2018
I have retired,
long ago, from my duties
my wonderful job
That has made me millions.

You best think twice
before you speak arrogantly of me.
Know, when you undermine me
Next to others among,
That I have made millions.

I’ve fed mouths
Raised beautiful souls,
Scrubbed till my skin cracked,
Squatted till my bones ached,
Cooked art till my heart was content but,
I have no right to complain
I never look back on my life with shame,
because I have made millions.

I arose at the glint of the sunrise
Filled my ears with the bellowing
Of vendors and their creaking carts
Sacrificed my sleep
To sustain my job
because my efforts are worth millions.  

I was dedicated,
Worked hard for my family,
my tendrils of hair askew
I continued my work
Masked my emotions,
Even when I was feeling blue
all because I was too busy making millions.

I kept my “office” ***** and span
Invented my own tips and tricks
since I was passionate
about making millions.

I wonder if you think I am worthless but
I simply sit back and smile because
I tell myself
I was a queen in my line of work
I didn’t just make beds,
I made wonderful souls
It never required money
I never had to get paid  

Now,
The thin wrinkles on my hand
Remind me that
I am more than satisfied,


Because I know
I’ve made millions.
Poem I wrote for my English final this year... I wrote this on my grandmother.
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