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Mark Parker Apr 8
I shout inside my skin,
broken outside and in.

I sounded strange to men,
deranged to the women.

I shutter to my pen,
I live in the lion’s den.
Julie Grenness Apr 2017
Here in my old lady's den,
I retreat and reflect, do you ken?
I can hide from everyone,
Introversion can be fun!
I scribble verse s I meditate,
I close the door and welcome faith,
Shhhh! Pray in silence, as our Bible sayeth!
Feedback welcome.
Zero Nine Mar 2017
You've made your suffer very clear
In anguish's cutting headlights
You are a fragile deer
Glass organs pop under foot
Your psyche crumbles into dirt
Glass murks reading worse
Than it ever has
It ever has
In this one bedroom den, I'm the wolf
Once I was a scrapyard mongrel
Once you were my wide world
Presently avatar of indifference
You've become a cyclone fence
Every dawn sweet music cedes
Every dusk, must evade sleep
Evade sleep
...
Leal Knowone Apr 2016
ghost are jamming in the witches house
See dark visions forced to come out
There is a fox in the hen house
What'll we do to bring it down?
You opened the cage and let the monster out
You'r the prey in its mouth
Theres a rat in the dog house
How will we chase it out?
Ghost are jamming in the witches house
What was done to bring them out?
See em run, see them scream and shout
I see it all burning down

Time heals all wounds & it also will leave scars
Old memories fall like dying leaves
Rust metal minds junkyard
Minds masked in a maze, couldnt see that far
Old memories fall like dying trees
Twisted metal minds junkyard

Grotesque faces of pure pain
Empty hearts of unwarrented rain
Souls of the dead called to the purge
Can you feel the weight of this world?
I see deformites of this life
Skulls of the dying, solid is the mind
Feel the air passing by
Holes in happiness lined in social class

Old memories fall like dying leaves
We all fall like dying tree

The dogs of war are on the prowl
Should have escaped, but cant leave now
For there is nothing left of my youth
Nothing left to hold on to

There is a mouse in the walls
The hounds of hell are on the loose
the dogs of war are on the prowl
?Should have escaped but cant leave now
The ghost are jamming in the witches house
See the visions forced to come out
Pick the locks then break it down
Welcome the hardships to this house
I want this to go as smooth as writing from a ballpoint pen, girl let me be the Lion in your Lion's Den
Lainrz Dec 2015
So tell me another beautiful lie
Tell me everything I want to hear
Won't you lay here by my side?
I want to fuck away all my fear

-b.d.
karen dannette Dec 2012
Love too much
Hurt too much
Always needing a heart to touch

Limitless sources of abundance so clear
No ability to cause you harm or unnecessary fear
Sometimes momentary blindness, inability to truly hear

Critical lapses of  excruciating, intensity from my vivid past
Try, as I might, to make the most healthy relationship last
As days turn into nights, I wish a moment of bliss with you that would last.

Not sure anymore, of anything that is real
Putrid, agonizing, annoyance seems to keep me off keel
Hoping, dreaming and wanting for my positive feelings to be real

Lustful thoughts of our time together feel erotic and surreal
In the midst of the anger and bitterness,  I realize I am able to feel.
Seductive, entranced, mesmorized with true love stamped within our hearts, forever sealed.

The dripping of the lukewarm indecision has grown old, decrepit and shames me in despair
Ready now for the realness of  a soul mate, never knowing one that cared.
So here it goes, where it ends, know one knows… now that my soul has been given and shared.

In the end, where I have always been
Crushed within the lions den
Here I am, nothing hidden, never knowing the why and when.

My heart is now yours and given of my free will
Never again will I have to trudge up  the loneliness hill.
The love that I seek has been found in you
With a light in our eyes, yours sparkling blue.

The things in my past that riddled me with fear
When the darkness replaced the light is no longer here.
I'm trusting you to love me and hope it is true.
This poem was written especially for you.
ANY FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED..  THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ!
hushhush Feb 2015
Suddenly my body.
I stand on the floor
It's my home
For now it's my home
That's what we call it,
When words are used to speak
All those meanings we barely know
Where this floor is i stand,
My home.
But there's a body between us
In this world, my home, there's body between us,
Road fence and time between us
And a little grey but not in colour

I was built to live only this day
Not tomorrow or yesterday
And when i look look look
It seems like life lives his life in a tree
Because that's where i've found it all
Though who am i
The world fits into both these eyes only when it ever stops changing
But it
It will never

And maybe if then the world would recreate itself each day
And how could we ever know
In each day some theory could be truth
They all have in  common that it brought us here today.
No.
Nonono.
Only use the words that you can open into tunnels
(but only if you want to)

But where am i
Here
With the need to ecsape
Yes
First my body
I wished it
I wished
Only if the cage were made harder on the ouside rather than the inside
Then i might not be moulded
Pressed into corners and outer edges

First my body
Escape escape escape

Then find me someplace
Oh wow never have i written words like this way now
they are just like
They are like like my feet walking and they take me
Do i have to think to step
No i do not,
Only sometimes,
Now, see?
Words like foot steps on this day.
My feet keep shaking now.

Because there i am
Listen,
Leaving the world
I see this blue arch
That each day the sun kisses.
And at least one thousand faces only
I feel them smiling
And of course there are birds
Soundless ones
If my pupils might draw lines into the sky as they followed
They might leave trails there like a plane
Carry all those lives i will never  know
(just as the world does)

So i kept breathing
The world
And the world was hard to breathe
Like it was made for someone else.

To the mirror and the window
I almost searched
I don't know where i find this person,
Me.
Where did i see them more.

Find a safe space
Hibernate.
When my body runs, barely moving
And the voice runs along there beside it
(somehow i fall behind the world)
Tells me "i need a place, i need a place, to hide, my very own place"
Then it needs a place
Place to hide
You can see there
In the pace
Pacing
On ground when it's too real on my feet and so
Breathing and stepping.
When my eyes are hard lakes and the tears grow around.
Talking talking to myself

Oh wow oh wow oh wow
A den a den a den
A space
My place
Place of my own and escape
Oh wow.
Hibernate.
The smallest place to find some space.

There,
i find a need that's mine
Growing in me
Give me space, but none to move

My guitar my blanket the headboard of my bed,
They tell it to me nicely,
(a gentle falling)
But they won't hold me until.
And they won't find
The softer beating to put into this heart space
Smoother air to feel in this mouth

But cushions and cushions
Cushions
Every single one in this whole room
Scarf pillow and duvet
Piled in books and books
Only these lights could glow somehow like a fire
Little place i find myself

Keep me safe from my own self
But more so
More so i'm sorry
keep me safe from their every kindness.

Little hidden place
Walls of comfort
Holds me even like this body
Till this body shook and shook
Tills the hands that grip it together
slipped apart
and they slip
Till i slip through the fingers
Of the words and sounds that are me
But now here's a body.

I think my back
the bone
Backbone won't hold me up alone.

But there it is i'm not
I'm not like a flag on a flag pole

Some ribbon maybe
Like a ribbon piece
I see a willow fence
Green and life
A ribbon moves there
And tied on a willow fence
Am i a ribbon or like a handwritten wish
I dont know

I can't feel the wind.
But the wind
This thing with the wind
It's told me things about myself
But reallly
what i look for
I don't look, i don't look
And if i lose my eyes
i will see sunlight still
And where it moves
on my arms and on my legs.

Shivering and shivering
I do shiver
I do dedicate my life to living
But little
Little place,

Curled and curled
and curled into myself until hardly a thing,
Can i lose my eyes here
But could i sleep and sleep and sleep in this body
And in every space around it
until i find i am awake.
CRAYON
(basically this is one of my ones where my head was in a mad state)
the other Umi Oct 2014
In a world where a father's love
Had become ancient Zen
Compassion a lonesome den
This is how I rewrite history
Without a pen

I gave him image
And I paid homage
To our similarities
And the gift i got back was my innocence
Through his eyes; my eyes

He is fine sculptured art
And I'm the hands that mold him
Into something more bolder
And wiser than I ever was,
And when time let's go of my hand
I shall continue to hold his

He is earth, I am spirit
He is the living embodiment
Of the dying prayer, that was written
In my palms before I was born
And I shall be there to guide him
When he stumbles upon impediment

I'm the mystery of the moon
And he is the warmth of the sun,
And though I've breathed in acrid gases
Before him, and injected the poison into my veins
Death dare not greet us, or at least not too soon

Son, I want to tell you about all the places I've been and how there's nothing like you on any map anywhere. I want to tell you I've been creating a warmer and safer environment for the king that you are. And I will love you beyond the edge of everything I've ever known.
Umi is my son, and he inspired this...
Derick Smith Sep 2014
Within the dragons' den—
    the smoke they breathe; twists, turns, spirals
    hea'enward in clouds of tar and ash
    (their mouths gaping and nostrils flared).

Indeed they don't breathe fire—
    They inhale it, swallowing whole
    The ancient gift of Prometheus
    (the first giver of stolen goods).

A wise woman once said:
    'This is the closest one can be
    with said sacred element. Yet
    such intimacy comes with price
    (as with all sim'lar relations).

I see their wrinkled skin
    And hear their deep raspy roar that
    rarely, though spontaneously
    interrupts their philosophy
    (or words of the drunk lay-dragon).
An oldie of mine. But one my mind wanders to from time to time.
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