Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Emma Apr 2016
I remember our first kiss.
You were so desperate.
You were on top of me.
I didn't want to kiss you,
because I knew it would cause trouble.
And it did.
I fell for you, really hard.
But for you,
I was just a kiss...
Robyn Mar 2016
Will the vibrations my footfalls make - make a difference?
Will they leave anything behind for the bugs and the rats in the ground?
The grit -
What will be left where my footprints sit?
Scuffs, scratches -
Or maybe I'll make the ground smooth where I walk
When I talk -
Do my words matter?
Will the things I say shatter -
Or create something new?
Will I leave a trail -
Or will I simply make a trail for someone else?
Does my foot tapping -
To other people's art -
Count as my own?
Or am I just a collection of reactions?
Unable to make others react?

Other people play piano
Other people sing
I can't do either
I can't do nothing
I can't do a single thing

Other people paint a picture
Other people dance
I've tried, I've failed
I can't do nothing

But I can't just do nothing anymore
Atta Mar 2016
Small talks as we walk to the church
Future, life and hobbies are the topics
I am happy by the time you tell me
Everything in your life
I am happy to be with you

Holding your hand so tight
Afraid to lose you
Your right hand is pale
Trembling and sweating
You are nervous and sad
"Why?"
You ask me

Now we walk in silent
It's raining, the sky is crying
I am crying for help
We can not hold any longer
Your eyes meet mine
We are not in real bond yet
And kissing is a sin for now
But I kiss you goodbye
And it tastes good
We both trembling and sweating
Afraid of the sin we made
God, forgive me
Out relationship is a sin

We arrive at the church
I do remember that day I kissed you
I touched you
I hugged you
So do you
You look sad
You look pale
But you are what you are
Do not change

"Goodbye," I smile, "take care."
You wave your hand
And smile at me
The sadness we both feel
Vapor in the blue air

I am heading back to the mosque
I can not change
Gaye Mar 2016
All pretentious bores,
Read and internalise
As much as possible
With all your dull brain.
You may have all the
Time in this world to
Sit and Google me,
Stalk my friends and
Assume my life, get a life!

You are inappropriate
To be associated with,
Oh heavens! I’m glad
You totally hate me.
Poke your nose on
Your own ****** ***,
Wash your wits and
Take healthy naps,
Drink cold water, it helps!  

I’ve tried to be candid
As possible, if your ego
Cannot digest, get help.
Listen, read, talk and eat-
Good, you probably will
Start to think good.
Peace be with your
Dignity and respect you
Desperately cry for! Amen!
The poem I dedicate to all those who are desperate to know what's happening in my life and where I go with it, thank you, you really make me feel like a celebrity. Thought you all needed a well-penned response, hope you all enjoyed it. Peace.
archwolf-angel Feb 2016
You're lazy
She only needed some rest
You're untidy*
The slight mess gives him comfort
You're clingy
She only needed some love
You're bossy
He only wanted to take control for once
I don't like how you ask so many questions
She doesn't want to misunderstand you
I don't like how you talk so loud
He wants you to hear him
You're selfish
She has never stopped caring, give her a break
You don't care
What did I say before?

Curse her with flaws
Hatred swallows him whole
When will they be truly appreciated?
They will never know

When will you stop judging?
You killed him on the inside
Tears flooded their veins
Start clearing your plain sight

Demons are for real
They are not fantasies
They sleep under our beds
And haunts us every night in our sleep

Your curses feeds them
Your unnecessary comments keeps them alive
You don't know them at all
For you aren't the ones living on the edge

.... **with all these lies.
No one is perfect. Perfection is a lie.
Maxwell Feb 2016
I'm so desperate to the point that
I stare at you all day
in hopes that
what I see is what I get
Nirvana Feb 2016
You don't have to carry your heart
I'll make sure I carry yours
Let it be with me
I'll take good care of it, you'll see

Though you didn't permit my heart
to enter your beautiful cart
but I'll make sure your heart is safe
and lives happily at my place

Though my heart is not your guest
buy my feelings you respect
your respect sometimes seems to be a pity
and your replies are quite a time witty

A small talk
and then a long pause
yeah it hurts my heart
but my heart will never give up

call me shameless
or say I'm desperate
I don't give a ****
I'll do whatever I can!
This is a subcultural song

Free energy efficient enthusiasts
Replaced the iroquois punk style
Alternatives, noisy *******; ear
Damaging drum bass boxes in da
Clubs. Ravishing rave parties in
Mini skirts, glam glossy brass on
Ecstatic strobe-light synthesis - a
Synthetic mainstream paradise
Submerged to hypnotic sucklings
On the colourful plastic pacifiers
A gummy retreat before waterless
Collaps. A dehidrated dream that
Tried to shut the world off by the
Tendrils of regression resemblance.
Adult babies aboard going back to
The false long forgotten innocence.

There is no subculture in being above
The depth. Superficiality seems a posh
Pose and a good hiding reason for socially
Awkward childish rebels without material
Issues. The sore tissue of contemporary art
Is people don't believe in subjective objective
Selves anymore. What authorities put on the
Shelves there - it has to be good-when on the
Real deal discount. You think im not of such
Kind. Sheepishly blindfolded herd lives some-
where else. I pity them. Mock the socially meek,
Unajust, fat, poor or a greek profile. It has to be
A button hot child candy nose to **** her or to
Call a beauty per se. Per american dream team.

***** are hot untill they have pneumatics, man
Are man if they whirl the banknotes under bank
Accounts. ******* act like man in disguise greedy
For more. I inhabitated all this inherently ugly
Preachy words instead of puking into a labdab
Lavatory and cleanse myself from repulsively
****** cultural intermittent artifacts. And how
Can i not subdue to its overwhelming pressure.
I'm just an indigo child of flower children. Don't
Throw me the bones fueled with the black golden
Marrow. I'm a new alternative peasant, growing
Carrots and celery at bio degradable villages. . .
Its not a contra cultural venture if your socks
Are made out of industrial cannabis, and yet
There's no need to. Think. Love. Play music.
Listen. Breathe. Live life as if yours favourite
subcultural song is repetedly on...going along
Micah Jun 2015
Strutting feathers,
Nose I hold in high contempt of all things,
Look at this preening fool in bad weather,
And find in me a little piece of nothing.

A hole, another null area, a void,
A reciprocal infinity, a tranquillity internally collapsing,
A black space within my darkest face ,
One never acknowledged publicly.

Therein lay the worst thoughts 'never' had,
It is the place where my Nothing hides,
You have one too.
Have you found it yet?
Please read on only when you do,

This Void never really goes away,
And I fed it, in the hope of making it disappear,
Threw at it all that money can buy,
And all that it couldn't,
But at the end came to a realization,
That Everything you do has an effect on this hell hole,
But nothing you do, will ever decrease it,
Your only hope remains in keeping it constant and bearable,

*For this is the meaning of life,
Keeping this Nothing from becoming you.
Next page