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Seeing the day arise
Seeing the lonely looking sky
It's no wonder I'm feeling so blah
It's mornings like these ,
I just wanna sleep the day away
No emotions no feeling the drag
Then awake to a sunny day nah
life's not gonna play it my way
So here I go anyway
© Jennifer Delong 1/16/19
Ian Dec 2018
dreary days to be,
mortified of being me,
trying just to see
Dillon Driskill Nov 2018
Sometimes in life
It is a dreary day
And it seems
Like always you will be the hunters prey

But you must take that beating
and turn it into a meal worth eating

Sometimes you must put up with the storm
Because a desert comes from no rain
Where all life the sun had since slain
Rosalyn Urquhart Oct 2018
the high priestess sits still
on her throne  
her mottled hands beginning to sprout veins
Like the roots of an ageless tree
her eyes sinking low to the earth, lids heavy with sleep
the abstract temple, mismatched in quilted sheets and mangled ceramic fragments
encompassing her victims, the children brothers Romulus and Remus
who play under a drizzled chorus of shattered glass
and winter hesitates as she raises her roots to a flame of ****
fuels the pyre with white snakeroot and , suckling from the Jack-in the pulpit
feeds the ashen embers once again
D Letwixt Oct 2018
the river Eyn, between outstretched hands
flows to lands farther than
ear has heard or eyes have searched
and they say the land twists and shifts
at her end
'til one is sailing up again

She flows like drowsy eyes in midafternoon daze
languidly stretching back and forth before the haze
the foggy mists that sit atop her skin smooth surface
shade from daylight
her sailors sleeping to sail the moonlight

I stood atop my little ship
to see the faces of passers-by
who watch the ships from shoreside

On each face I looked so long
but always obscured was the evening sun
what tree or branch, or mist or shade
I cannot see what faces made

Dreary drowsy eyes begin to close
she will close them, Eyn
so I might sail the moonlight
midnight's rays of clear and blue
and bathe pensive in cerulean hue.
Brandon Conway Sep 2018

I visited the heavens today
all gods were absent
looked out the window
we were in the clouds

landed in Detroit
on a dreary day
why would it be any different?
this skeletal remain of a city

at least the bartender was great
but now I’m drunk wandering around
Detroit
hope I wake up in my hotel
Some pages, lingering like those stars in space,
wouldn't even get stained with ink;
as only few of them manages to constellate.

Blank mind tainted with empty heart;
just like that black, lonely space,
even asteroids and comets do break and burn
But there is always the black-out.

Shouting and thumping and breaking inside,
But who notices the stars getting crumbled?
Because there always is the SUN.

No words would be the right choice,
No feelings can match the brutality,
There was once the BIG BANG in space
Just like the fallout in the dreary desert of heart!

Outnumbered emotions carried by hormones,
drowning me into that tempestuous space,
Peace to the heart would be the peace for body..

Beat..Bea...Be....B...  No more!
Empty mind doesn't recite. They just like to play with the beats.
Casey May 2018
She contemplated waking up before the rain
In the hopes of feeling something--
Something other than dreary dreadful dread.
Maybe that sounds childish
And maybe, just maybe, that's okay.
Vexren4000 Apr 2018
A mechanics,
Augmented to updates,
Updates altered,
By modern man,
Machines moving,
Churning away,
Feeding stimuli,
To the foolhardy populace.

©BAS
Sally A Bayan Feb 2018
Am

looking at the ceiling

eyes are fixed on the

white rotating blades

turning around slowly

......oh so slowly

......the monotony

..........hypnotizes me



everything around me

every sound or action

is moving like a snail



the ticktocks of the clock

are droning

the water inside the kettle

is boiling without a sound, i think

thin slices of pork marinated

in soy sauce and lime...frying,

doesn't scare me...the fight between

heated oil and soy sauce

is not as noisy...not as violent

as it had been in the past mornings



i feel them all...slow and hushed

..........as a snowfall in winter

i am thinking of winter this early hour

...yet, it's summer...so hot and humid

...........hot coffee has failed to alter

.......the weary, and dreary airs

....of this early wednesday morning...





Sally



Copyright Feb. 21, 2018

rrab
something that came up at 3 am...
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