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Cedric Jun 2019
ere
sometimes i fear,
the time that is near,
in which i hear,
a mysterious seer,
become sincere,
and i see nadir.

im so sorry dear,
i have to shift gear,
for i saw a deer,
i saw it disappear.

i tried to peer,
but my eyes sear,
it caused a stir,
i shed a tear.

the chaos is clear…
a short poem i wrote on twitter about hesitation and inaction, being held back by your past; your regrets and fears
Kamilla Jun 2019
it shines through
no, it doesn’t shine
it lurks
from the eerie, dark cobweb covered corners
of my soul
vine like grip, no release, no matter the fight
grappling insecurities in constant motion
rugged claws,
ripping
scratching
snaring
holding captive, release begs of freedom
no avail
forever
forced and bound with no escape and no hope
only fear
Julian Moses May 2019
Fold thyself upon the mattress
The cards upon the table
The hand it grasps
Six fingered
And encased in glass
I smoke
Memories of five years past
Numbness of the heart
Tainting the very ego
Breathing the bones
Bequeathing a new wonderment
Animate the dead,
Go and
Reach into the trove and
Ransack the physique
Ruination and
A tear in the psyche
I am gone.
-2019
Hello, HelloPoetry! I write small abstract poems when I can. Some are more abstract than others.
Chloe James Apr 2019
Chilly timberland.
A silent, little mouse squeaks
as a fierce wolf howls.
Another one...
ms reluctance Apr 2019
It registers as soon as I open the door,
a keen foreboding feeling.
An unfamiliarity never felt before
sends my senses reeling.

This is my home, my haven sweet;
yet today it does not belong to me.
I exhale and follow my tentative feet
while I repress the urge to flee.

I feign bravado by humming as I
go check every room casually.
I get more comfortable by and by –
the eeriness wanes thankfully.
NaPoWriMo Day 13
Poetry form: Quatrain
sophie Apr 2019
i feel like my eyes are puncturing through the tombstones of a life not lived to its fullest. something of the sum of my worth, two holes in my skull that are chock full of air seeping to the brim with thickness and agony, weighs me down in shackles. i am not alone in this place, no, but i am empty, cold and vulnerable and weak, thin and haggard, scraping the surface of living. this—no. this is not living. this is surviving—this is the tightrope wire between surviving and dying—this is, essentially, dying. my mouth is filled with spiderwebs—i speak to no one but myself, hands dry and lips drier, throat raw with a voice i’ve only used to scream.
i cannot scream any more.
Toxic yeti Apr 2019
As I walk down the eerie forest
In broad daylight
I see a hologram
Of a purple tree
It looked like a coin
So I walk over
And see the hologram
A gateway into
Another dimension.
Toxic yeti Apr 2019
The Prohodna cave
Full moon
In one of the eyes
An old shamanic
Myths says that
When the full moon is in the eye
You can
Here the
Voices of the spirits.
Nemis Mar 2019
I am dancing with the angel of death,
It helps my tormented soul, lays it to rest.
Peace is arising, I see black
Light is nowhere, darkness I hail.

Life is layer of sufferings,
Adore it much and it's a sin,
Hate you it more,
The same it gives.
It's about the dark times when all you can think about is quitting and the ironical life we live...
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