Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Paul Butters Dec 2015
Right now I’m alive
For now.
How long will I thrive?
Don’t know.

For most of Eternity
I’ll be dead.
Such is Mortality
It’s said.

Let me meditate on that.
Let me contemplate the moment.
Sitting on my mat
Dreaming a romant.

Yes I’m alive
Of that I’ve no doubt.
But where’s my drive?
I must have a scout…

Been to Tenerife and Malta
Scotland and Wales.
Never Gibraltar,
Few travelling tales.

But I’m not a roamer,
Rather stay at home.
Yes ever the homer,
And often alone.

My laptop and telly
Are all that I need.
Give me Keats and Shelley
For a good read.

So it’s right in the Now
I really must stay
No why, who or how
To darken my day.

No thoughts of the past
Or dreams of the future.
Make each second last,
Turn off that computer.

This moment has gone,
Now that you’re reading.
Let’s have another one,
That’s where I’m leading.

For now never lasts,
That we all know.
It’s lost in our pasts,
No longer on show.

I try here to paint
What has been and gone.
An attempt to create
The eternal song.

Paul Butters
The lads have gone and I'm left alone in the pub for a few minutes....
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2015
Maple over water,
Hunched by wind and rain,
Lithe branches reaching,
Into the complacent garden pool,
You are like a catcher of wisdom,
A sculpture of spirit, so many hands
To reach with you, as you leave,
So many thoughts that sway
As a troubled mind is reaching
With the wind and the rain,
Maple over water.
Mica Kluge Dec 2015
My arm snagged
On a thorn
In the woods.
A thousand thoughts
Came crashing in.
Many contained swearing.
As blood welled,
My thoughts stuck
On one thing.
Every last drop
Of my blood
Reminded me of
Just how painfully
Alive I was.
Without the pain,
My life is
Nothing but good,
Floating and dreaming.
With the pain,
Good and bad,
It is real.
Beautifully, incredibly real.
Nabs Dec 2015
By: Nabs

In this long and dreary day
As I walked down the park, I long for the taste of peace
For It have not grace me with its caress in such a long time that I remember it in fondness
Leaving me feeling quite restless

I miss the caress of soft lips, mumbling words
Sweet sweet words that is like a blade to my heart
I miss the burn of passion, that leave me breathless, head held high
Marching with purpose in this world
I miss the laughter that would accompany me with every step I took

I wish time could be turned back like the black sand in the hourglass mother love so much

I saw a man sitting down on the bench
His hair unkept, his eyes were shadowed
Wearing a fancy tailored suit
It looks surreal to say, someone who one would expect to look regal in the air of wealth, could look so small
Swallowed by the suit that he was wearing as if it was his life line

He was shivering, despite having a warm suit cloak that was draped on his shoulder
Maybe its the grief that was leeching his warmth

He took out a silver flask, holding it carefully with trembling hands as if it was the most precious thing
He turned the cork slowly, as if dreading it
Tipping his head back, pouring gold down his throat with the fervor of a man addicted
Spilling some on his fancy suit, uncaring

They say it's liquid courage, but why as he take each gulp of the golden liquid he looks more and more like a person who is cowering?
A person who had been defeated

He looks lonely and at that moment, as selfish as this sounds, I feel the camaraderie between us
A bond shared by someone who knows how to long for something and yet being denied
Either by someone else or them self

I shook off the feeling, He reminder me too much of my father, and continue to walk

The destination that I had in mind was the old part of the park
The one that people abandon in favor of the newer one
Where the wild flowers and moss over took everything, making it their own personal kingdom
Where the trees are lush and the air feel gentle

When I reached there, I sat under the old apple tree
The roots are a mess of intricate knots, weaving into the earth, creating a the pattern that show the cycle of life
The branches are laden with over ripe red apples and the sweet smell of childhood, of running through my grandparents house pockets full of berries and wild apples
I am reminded of the time that home was available

The rustle of leaf have lull men and woman alike to oblivion

Thinking of lost time, of gleeful laughter across the grassland of change and puberty
Running around trying to catch moments and memories, trying to bottle it down
Making ambrosia from the ones that define happiness, taking and taking from the well of our soul
Forgetting that sometimes the well could dry, could grow musty and moldy, could cave in and turning the once full well into a gaping hole, a depression so they say

Depressions feels like a blanket of warmth in my hollow life these days

I notice a little girl was gathering the fallen leaves, not far from me
She was making in into a leaf crown, befitting even for a king
She was barefooted, hair the shade of flame with freckles adorned her face like constellations
She was humming a note that seems to tell a story of promises and better future

I looked at her, I saw dreams and my little sister
From the white satin dress, like the one mother used to made me and her wear when the first sign of spring was showing, to her gaped smile
I feel like I am seeing picture from a long time ago that I had forgotten I ever had
A picture that I used to hate but now come to realize I am fond off

I could feel my heart aching

I was cut off from my musing when A long and tall dark shadow suddenly befell her
A man cloaked by midnight stood behind her, with ink stained face, wild hair, and eyes as dark as the abyss
He reminded me of the man that took my little sister away
The air seemed to tense and still, as if holding their breath for the anticipation

Yet when she noticed the man she let out a smile as bright as a thousand sun, burning, in it sincereness
The world seems to let out a relieved sigh as she tiptoed to put the leaf crown on top of the man head
The man gaze seems to tender, then he cradled her in his arm

They both were so different
He was midnight, while the she was sunshine
He was cold, she was warmth
He was sins, she was virtues

And yet they looked at each other with gaze filled with tenderness and fondness

The yearning that hit me leave me dizzy
Envy wedged it self into my heart, for I wanted that bond that tied them both so much that my hands were trembling
I fill sick with want

I almost reached out

Shame filled me, so I ran away like I always do
Biting back the sob that threaten to spill, I ran away to the fountain

It's an old fountain that been there even when the years had not existed yet
It withstood history, though not without consequences
The water is still crystal clear even after centuries of people throwing coins there
Confessing their sins as the coins slowly sink while the ancient koi fish are dancing around lazily

I traced the fountain delicate rims, watching the the water ripples as rain started to drenched the earth
The smell of petrichor hit my senses, it smelled like musk and the sky longing to kiss the earth
I realized that all along I had hate rain because it would engulf me in melancholy so that I forget the blood that stained my lips


I saw butterflies fluttering by, daintily flying, making patterns in the sky
A storm of colors that left me with out my breath
Gentle yet unforgiving in its wake
Like my mother gentle reprimand, my sister promises, my father wine bottle shattering, and my brothers death


I wonder, as the rain turn to storm, how long had i been gone from home?
A quite long one
Arvind Krish Nov 2015
Just when I start to
Think about myself,
They come uninvited.....
QUESTIONS!!
And I havn't yet
Figured out
how to figure them out
Victor Shade Nov 2015
Cleave, sunder from the root
Spilled forth on the soil
Naked
Afraid

Rive, render from the pod
Scorched from the sun
Cracked
Bleeding

Shake, dither from the soul
Scarred on torment
Numbed
Immobilized

Breathe, utter the words
Cried from memories

Another dawn
Another dusk
Another night
Another cycle
Ellis Reyes Nov 2015
We bury
We grieve
We pray

Dieu Nos Protège
God Protect Us
Cori MacNaughton Oct 2015
My breathing slows
my mind is stilled
my spirit rises
Falun Gong

The evening weeps
in empathy
an evil steals
echoes of souls

As One we join
our sanctity
in supplication
to Divine

As more among us
simply vanish
Disappeared
without a trace
Falun Gong is a meditative practice drawing on the ancient, complementary practices of Buddhism and Qi Gong.  

Beginning on 20 July 1999, the People's Republic of China began a program to eradicate Falun Gong and those practicing it, using primarily the methods of defamation, kidnapping, imprisonment, internment, torture and ****** to achieve their objective.  Literally millions of people have been targeted.  

This poem, which I wrote on 6/7 August 2014, was my response to learning of the ongoing murders of peaceful Falun Gong practitioners.

You can learn more, and possibly help, by checking out the website of the Friends of Falun Gong, here:

http://fofg.org/
Seán Mac Falls Oct 2015
Gold light caps mountains
Regrets fade as melting snows
Moon slice in the sun
Next page