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Mark Wanless Jun 2024
creation in form
is infinite creation
in mind infinite
Jeremy Betts Jun 2024
I took a quarter of a lifetime to create
Boundaries with an impenetrable gate
That I could fall back to at a later date
Who knew I wouldn't have to wait
Because as soon as I challenged fate
And tried to break this family trait
And shift from the pattern of self hate
To a more beneficial internal way to associate
I was lead to and left in this mental state
No trial, no debate
Forced with the threat of death to participate
And that safe place, it began to deteriorate
As the darkness started to manipulate
Causing my stronghold to mutate
At an astonishing rate
'Till now I just feel like an inmate

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jun 2024
Can't rid myself of it
There's surely no controlling it
Before I see it
I feel it
I fear it
And that fears legit
Didn't create it
Can't destroy it
So I'm forced to own it
While I own up to it
Like, "give me it"
"What is it?"
"A heart?"
"I'll slap it on my sleeve and wear it"
Though not to display it
But rather as a reminder of it
An extra warning of the dangers of it
And to call out all those promoting it

©2024
Meet me beneath the olive-tre
I'th'garden of Gethsemane
Quhair Jesus pray'd.  Pray thou with me.

Twa corbies mak an hairie nest
Within the gardens wooden brest.
The Sunne is running tow'rd the west.

From off the tre the fruicte doth fall
Upon the firm fixt flatten'd ball
Of wormwood Earth whose seas are gall.
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2024
It is truly a strange irony;-
to ponder upon the behavior of a foolish dog,
daring enough to bite the hand that nourishes them,
Just as a bee daydreaming about stinging their queen.

Tell me what sort of dreamer,
would fairly detest even a fragment of a tranquil sleep,
As someone who yearns for the warmth of love and
affection, but hurriedly scorns its gentle embrace.

I do ponder the contradiction within,
a peacemaker who harbors an aversion to perfect silence;-
A baffling realization to witness, how swiftly one can
turn against the very source of provision and care,
—that which sustains them.

Yet we persistently turn our backs on our Creator...
Jeremy Betts May 2024
The sun and moon eliminates
The draining darkness life creates
But my past constantly berates
As my future wiggles free and escapes

©2023
Thomas W Case Dec 2021
A tenderhearted rage flows from my
pen, like the Mississippi river after six
months of a hard rain.  
Suffering released, I long
for peace, as I grab the pen like
a ****** grabs the syringe, like my
very life depends on it because it
probably does.

The passion that flows within
my veins give a voice to my
soul when the pen vomits
words on the paper, like a
drunk the morning after a
night on the town, trying to
drown the memory of her.

I'm bent on writing because the
world's dim lighting cast shadows on
everything that mattered to me.
I'm shattered you see by
circumstances beyond my control.
Life just seems to roll right over me,
but I take my plight with the fight of
a soldier, whose battle cry is:
furor scribendi, a rage to write; because
in the revealing comes the ultimate
healing and that ******* light will
never die.
furor scribendi is Latin for a mania for writing.  Link to my you tube channel.
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7n3PXaA5szQKvZ8VlkcxTA

check out my youtube channel

check out my youtube channel.
Manx Pragna May 2024
The splices of life, cabled webbing -
Had you everything you ever reasonably need,
And before you the ability to facilitate
The creation of artificial imitation
Near indistinguishable from reality,
Would you venture outside the confines
From control to chaos, and knowledge to mystery?
Or would you just enjoy plastic scenery?
042624

Ang bawat buhay
Ay binubuo ng mga pahina ng mga tula
Ilang libong libro na may makakapal na kuwento
At marahil ang iba’y, sa unang pahina pa lamang
Ay maroon na rin ang kanilang dulo.

Kakatha pa rin ang Bathala
Kahit punitin man ng kadiliman.
Lilikha gamit ang Kanyang hininga,
Isang idlap, isang kurap
Patuloy ang pagbibigay buhay at katuturan.

Sunugin man ang mga pahina,
Dapuan man ng mga alikabok at mga insekto,
Mabura man ang mga letra
buhat sa mga patak ng ulan
Ay mananatili pa rin ang mensahe’t nilalaman.

Sa huli, ang may Akda
Ang tanging may hawak ng mga kasagutan
Sa mga pahinang hindi natin alam
Kung kailan nga ba ang katapusan.
Jeremy Betts Apr 2024
In my beginning some thing created this purposeless mess that stands before you
Knowing my best would never be enough and still pushed me through like some kind of fuuck you
To who?
To the future me, to the tragedy I'd become ultimately?
That's a ridiculously high baggage fee
Especially for baggage bestowed upon me
If there's nothing he can't do then none of this is how it had to be
But nooooo,
He had to go and put in that god ****** fruit tree

©2024
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