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- Apr 2016
I described myself as a writer to my new therapist today.

That was cool

and it made me want to start making art again.
Sombro Nov 2015
She sat down
I put the page in front
She merely stared
And painted a sea with teardrops on the shredded wood.

I passed along,
Pencil, charcoal, all that needs free
She sniffed, 'Better?' she said,
'I will feel better?'

Taking up her shivering white pencils
Of thin frail fingers, gripping graphite
Scratch, scratch, like a cat
Wanting to leave a locked room

The grey became black
The dust became mountains
And, she saw in here her life
As the clouds became rains

'But look', I put in
'Look what suns I make,
With a caring hand' I
Pushed a finger into the depths

A sunny print came out

Lisping, she rasped her breath back
And put a hand to the black dirt of the breaking
And made a hand-print;
Simple, like her delight

'You will learn to make
Suns of the shadows,
You will learn to make
Smiles of the silences

Your lines will be straighter
Your circles more graceful,
More curved to your *****
More jagged, if you wish.'

I smiled and she nodded
And watched her last tear fall,
Splashing down with tidal forces of sorrow on the page
An artist was born.
I love drawing and it can make many happy. As your lines become straighter you feel happier in the world of art, and from this you learn to live with other worlds outside, the ones you cannot alter, or perhaps can.
Antoinette G Sep 2015
Calm and Peaceful
With sky a stormy gray
She stood and beheld
The vibrant green
Of the fields
Which her homestead lay
And in the distance
She gazed upon
A sea with rough and crashing wave
Its once crystal waters
Now churned angrily
Sending forth a frothy white spray
She standing on a cliff
That was so far away
Basked in the tranquility of the moment
Not worrying what would happen soon, at any moment
With a BOOM of thunder
With a flash of lightning
The storm began
And her one special moment
Was gone never to come back
The once peaceful countryside
Was torn asunder
With this storms mighty blows
And it was so hard to believe
That just moments ago
It had been such a different scene
In which to observe
And as the stormed raged on
The girl watched the rain fall
The thunder BOOM
And the lightning call
And she remembered those moments
Those quiet ones
And she treasured them
She treasured them most of all
I feel like we all feel like this sometimes
Joshua Adam Jul 2015
Although you're different, you just don't care
doing what's right, even if the world will stare
maintaining your principles, this, to you is life
others try to upset you, but you're above strife

and you can deal......

You often try to do good, but it does not always come out that way
accepting the momentary setback, and the price you readily pay
looking at things differently, holding yourself to a higher standard
able to suffer alone, remaining silent even when you're slandered

because you can deal......

Unwilling to follow the norms, you recognize they often emanate from below
so you refuse to subscribe to society's whims, who is a friend and who is a foe
knowing every day is another test, and you wonder if you'll manage to get by
despite your good faith attempts, nevertheless, in the end things just go awry

but you try and deal......

Once again, you're left staring yourself in the mirror, wondering why you
then from somewhere deep down, you find the answer you already knew
a very real part of you, your inner conscience, does patiently wait for time
trusting all will be good, because you draw your strength from the sublime

you know this is real......

While cruising through life, you'll find your memories hold a secret, you begin to understand
the experiences you've experienced are not your own, because they've had a guiding hand
so when memories ultimately return, receive them happily, they come by purposeful design
knowing all is Good, having been orchestrated by G-d alone, the sole architect of the Divine

The Real Deal......
Deal Yourself the Correct Frame of Mind!
This is a short poem with a long message. A message as long as life itself. How we deal with our minds, our memories, our existence will affect how we feel. We cannot escape our reality; our life's experiences and memories will forever be a part of us.
Street corner of my mind, project it into the future.
Context : I am dealing with alot of what could be termed 'strange thoughts' (if I was talking to a consellor) but they are more into the metaphysical realm (of which my area of ignorance is very large). Dealing with death/life/current experience of 'my 'life''/life after physical death and trying to make sense of what my dreams are telling me (which is the opposite of what my paranoid voice was telling me last week).....so where does that leave me? (listening to music constantly is semi relief but also painful sometimes) - it leaves me dealing with alot of mental fear - my latest coping skill is to throw or project it into its right expectant time in this reality and not have to 'really' face it until it manifests in this reality (if it ever does - or maybe this fear is true in others perceptions of me but they are unwilling to say it straight to my face - for example I was trying to get breakfast this morning and the person at the sandwich shop redirected me to another shop across a walk way - go to the other shop - they redirect me to the first shop - such closed loops can be perceived as a test/fun/bull*hit/etc..... depending on my mental state (ignoring diabetic hunger of course) but it is just an example of how 'my life' currently is - I would prefer to be asleep or drunk or within non human touched nature but that isnt going to happen and I am struggling :-(
Lisa Batchelor Jul 2015
When will it end?
Nonstop crying
The feeling of pain and dying

When will it end?
Kids being abused
God, they're so confused

When will it end?
All the self harm
The blood on their arms

When will it end?
The sleepless nights
The parental rights

When will it end?
"I wanna go home!"
"I can't do this alone!"

When will it end?
Society telling you who to be
When all you need to be is free

When will it end?  
She's gone now, home, safe
Done feeling the feeling of grief

Well that's your answer
It ends when someone's pushed to far
From April, but it has a good message.
Darren Mar 2015
I tried to write your resurrection
with a string of adverbs.
Tried to call breathe
back into your empty lungs with my words.

Some nights I will whisper
your name over and over again
as though the very act of repetition
will call you back.

I have learnt now,
that the walls of your casket
are just too strong to pierce
with similes and poetry.

Last night I cleared the desk.
Laid down the pen,
closed the thesaurus
and shelved the dictionary.

I said goodbye last night.
I shut off the light,
closed the door,
and walked away.
Lynn Greyling Dec 2014
I looked up into your eyes,
And I saw the heavens
And the earth. And lo,
I had erected a stone for you.

A tombstone at each of
These places, places
We had been together,
Places of sea and heather.

For you just left
On a fine day in May.

The wreath upon your grave;
Abundant flowers in a field
And the brightest stars
Adorning the heavens.

Also the tiny shell
Lying next to the pebble
That you had given to me,
Still in the pocket of the jacket I wore.
Kennia Joseph May 2014
If you knew how much it hurts...
Would you still do it?
If you could see the mess you leave behind
If you felt everything...
If you seen every tear i've cried.
Would you still do it?
Nights I've prayed it would get better.
Sometimes I wished it all made sense.
But if you realized the damage it caused, would you still do it?
Or is it just one of those habits you can't kick?
mandy rigby May 2014
Making deliv-eries,
drugs of every kind.
Got some that will sedate you,
and some that will blow your mind.

Making deliv-eries,
just trying to ply my trade.
Since i started selling drugs,
can't believe the friends I've made.

Everyone is eager,
bound to big you up.
All in a selfish,
downward spiral,
trying to get ****** up.

The glamour and the tragedy,
of people in the gutter.
But now I'm selling drugs,
it is my bread and butter.

Got to turn it over,
and try to make a buck.
Couple of quid short,
here and there ..
but I don't give a ****

Making my deliv-eries,
police not far behind.
Put my **** on the line,
in a bid to blow your mind.

Flashing lights,
neon blue,
right upon my tail.
They're about to pull me over,
I'm about to go to jail.

( (c) P Skez 04/01/2014)

— The End —