Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Cyan 7d
If I had the guts
to stand barefoot before a rolling tank,
I wonder if I’d also be concerned
about the feeling of dirt
between my toes
a little bit
I can’t force the universe to understand me
I won’t throw a tantrum, two or more folks
That refuse to travel with me on this path
There are more than a billion folks ahead
Of this path, waiting to align with a stranger:
Dancing in the same levels of energies

So I won’t force “ this few” to understand me
Neither will I succumb to their negativity
I soldier on, I carry on, on this lonely path
Knowing the sun will shine someday, on this path
I don’t know when but I carry on like the good farmer
I have tried to travel with many by coercion, later to realize my feet is stuck in their emotions. No one was born as a slave to anyone... we are here in this plain to exercise purpose freely without fear
CC Sep 29
The past is not what defines us
To be heard takes courage
Using out voice takes guts
Placing effort into a project
Developing a photo we took
Placing our heart out there
If we do have a heart
All of that takes more
Than what we bargained for
When we were born into this world
We don't know what to expect from life
So life itself mustn't suspect what comes out of our mouths
Michael Ryan Sep 26
Some days, being me is a burden.
Not onto others, but onto myself.
Those around me do not respect me.
But when they seek memories of better times,
I will be the one they ask to speak.

Education was a tool intent on developing me,
instead it became the ropes that bind me to my family.
These ropes latch me to a home I have outgrown,
but no one allows me to leave.

Instead of vindication
I have found desperation.
Those who know me speak fondly
of my aspirations, but do not realize
that their praise weighs more than,
the stone god was unable to budge.

I lie to you -
true agony is not shelved upon by others,
it is the listless illusions I pander to myself.
The ambitiousness of decision making
and feeling that any course directed by my own hand
will end wastefully.
A few months truly out of undergraduate studies, and I fear that all my time/knowledge will be wasted on a life I do not enjoy.  I want to do things that I am proud of, and helping myself grow as well as helping those around me.  A simple life will **** me.
It is a fact
That it takes
About 80 milliseconds
For the brain to
Generate consciousness,

To take all the
Information flowing in and
Construct a model of reality
From moment to moment.
An 80-millisecond-old afterglow.

It is a fact,
That major league hitters
Cannot biologically
Keep their eyes on the ball.

That actually
Human eyes can't
Track at a ball whose
Angular position is
Changing so rapidly

And actually
You could close your
Eyes once it was
Halfway in the air
And you'd still
Catch it with the bat.

In fact,
Your brain is
Doing this right now.

As I speak,
It is taking a fraction of a moment
for my voice to reach your ear drums.

But your brain
It compensates for this by
Making you believe
That you are in this moment

This moment

So here is a poem
For those who
Can't help but
Live in the past:

It’s called “Climb”

They say
The most fertile land
Forms from tectonic shifts
So great
The earth erupts into chaos
To settle into mounds

So majestic
That they were once
Mistaken for gods.

Is for the ones
Who are settling.

For the lamp light.
The nightstand
Of mistaken majesties
And snow-capped summits

For the time capsules
Of recipes and
One line poems
That I once forgot.

For the promise of prosperity
That we all had and have
But none of us got.

For the thought
That breath
Is only there
To say goodbye.

The last time
I hoped to die
I pried the crosses
From my trinity heart
Buried them one by one
In my holy stomach
Until even God
Didn’t have enough
Grace to to pull me back.

Until even God
Didn’t have enough
Grace to make me
Anything but a soldier
In a war with
Myself that I’m
Tired of fighting.

Fighting for moments
When the barrel of a gun
Tastes like revolution.

When poetry
is no longer a verb
I can believe in.

When freedom
Is one man
On one stage
With one voice
And enough courage
To be something
When freedom
Is one crowd
In one room
With one voice
And enough courage
To be something

So for the moments
When gravity,
Is everything
Tearing you down:

Are a temple
Where the only God is

Are a map,
To time capsules
Of recipes and
One line poems

Remember gravity made the stars.

Forged them
Bright and burning,
Like a phoenix
From the stardust
Of planets and galaxies
That we once forgot
From the promise of prosperity
That we all had and have
But none of us got.

So gather the ashes
And shake the dust

Like every breath
Is only there
To say goodbye

Like love
Is the moment
You caught your
Mother’s eye

Like hoping to die
Is just another mountain to climb
Another God to find
In the sacred temple
Of your trinity heart

So if you’re ever
Falling apart

Remember bars
Do not make a cage

And wings
Will never set you free

You can spend
Your whole **** life
Wearing a life vest
In the desert

But the bottom of the sky
Is the top of the sea

And sometimes sinking
Pressures chaos
Into courage
Breaks the
Bedrock into beauty
And we can
Erupt again
He is like that, mild and choosy,
He will not change
Till he runs out of options.

Out of the three,
He chose the crystal ball,
He had learnt to foresee the future.

The present makes fun of him,
Gives him intense pain;
He can hide his pain
And his knowledge of doom.

The crystal ball had shown
Him a mist move in it
Assuming many shapes
He could not read.

He was not confused,
He averted the doom,
He picked the glass ball high
And let it drop.
Vish Sep 24
these eyes have cried an ocean of tears,
this heart has endured hurt in the form of daggers and swords,
this mouth has kept an eternity of words unspoken,
these ears have heard things that can’t be forgotten,
this body has fought wars that are yet to be won
but this phoenix will rise from the ashes,
unshaken and unbroken,
like the heat of the sun that’s ever burning,
warming everything it touches,
the phoenix will be unrestrained,
and effervescent
whatever you’re going through, you will get through it
i love you
Aaron LaLux Sep 22
hurt you,
so bad,
that you haven’t let yourself heal,
& why,
do you,
let them,
continue to hurt you?

are you,
hiding in your shell,
you are not a shellfish,

have, a well wish,

I wish,
you realize,
that you are stronger,
than any memory that you may have,
that you are stronger,
than any person that’s ever hurt you in the past,
that you are stronger,
than the darkness that’s invaded your light,

What a paradox you can often be,
one minute so outgoing the next minute totally shut off,
refusing dialogue not caring if you die at all,
on a walk in a park after dark communications shut down,
well you know what love, you’re too resolute,
to let let downs let you down,

I see you,
I see your struggles, I see your strengths,
I see that you are so close, to having a life altering epiphany,
I see it even if you don’t let me propose this question,
do you think a caterpillar knows as it grows,
that it’s about to metamorphosize into a beautiful butterfly?

See you might not see you, but I see you,
I see that you are so close, to having a life altering epiphany,
& breaking totally free, but you know what,
you don’t have to break to be free, you already are free,
you just have to realize it, & once you do, which you will,
you will see, no one can hurt you, not even you,
because you are a being, of such astounding strength,
that you’re just beginning to understand how strong you are,

so who cares who hurt you so bad you haven’t healed,
because from now on you will let no one ever hurt you again.

Remember that…

∆ LaLux ∆

from THHT3: The Hollywood Hills Trilogy 3
available worldwide here:

This book is so important that if you can't buy it just message me directly and I'll buy it for you. Seriously.

I've ached for you for many years
As if you were a long lost friend.
Waiting for your miracle work
And all these wounds to start to mend.

Praying every night for you
Since I was just a kid.
All I needed was a little bit
But it seems vigor I was forbid.

So white knuckle through life I go
And stop praying to an unjust king.
Buried deep the pain inside
Is courage even a real thing?

Yet still, I grow and move along.
Is this real or all for show?
Without you by my side
I suppose we shall never know.
(c) Allison Wonder

My counselor wanted me to write a poem about my strength. I asked her if I could be sarcastic... this poem was the answer.
zen Sep 19
Sewing the spiral depth
The halogram projected
Lapse time
Pixels to
Into diamond

The Dogon
Gamble's away his
In hopes of
Sound the sun rays
Of Saturn singing

Serpents tongue
Circulates the circumference
Of the circus
Sung circles
Sunken fertile land
Herbs in hand
The earth purges
And again
I am nervous
Hit with nerfs
Of the world
Me down
I laugh
I dismay the smuck
And smog
Smuggled by singularity
Stiffened by ambiguity
Banging my head on the mirror
Of the river
I bleed red
In blue

Futile, no
Forever, yet
Find the feather
I flew over mind and
Let loose

My severed spine
has broken down into
bread and wine
Dive inward
Next page