I feel so much              it’s just like good movies
hard hurt  romance and rescue               
         rage  and ostracization
it's them  it is witty they     the horn spittled gitty devils!           
they've pitted faults in my structure
                                                        to feel through
my dermis            tup-tapped and stabbed at                
    quaking ***** little jokes   at my impractical existence
i am made spongiform                     vulnerable pupation    
frogspawn                                    
      mangy food at mercy  ...

...and my pratty employment...

...but it's okay now
enamel              
i'm desensitized to it all                
         distant to the proceedings
the quirky murky readings
                   then again   sudden barks get through
jarring feedings                        
            and i am rushed with expense ...
... for a while

mused chemistry
my worth feels    peopled and oxygenated
my work cradles balanced appeal                  
creation is warm          with budgings of whim
simple commerce   with the ghosts of physical laws
                                     and a birling alchemy

Vibrant despair blowing out like sand paper from the soul
Dreams of colour
Fearless hallucination of love
for the World

A stream of consciousness so pure and thick
like a raw gem
like a river
like a marching bull
Painfully fulfilling me full

I could run for miles if I had the Sea to sightsee
if I had the Sun gleaming on me
if I had your figure in memory
even if I had nothing and wasn't meant to be

A fuel that bursts my pupils into a huge void
serotonin
dopamine
adrenaline
and so
a rocket to the Moon and my hands on this keyboard
setting the stage for another round

I cannot be stopped, I can only be blunt
I can only do it
I can only run
Veins bulk in a steaming rush
and thus time disappears like a fog

I am lucky I am here

I am the chalk
of a whiteboard
remaining from
an evening class;
my true meaning
smeared and erased,
a faint memory
merely noticed
by the sparse eyes
searching for something,
anything, to fill the gaps
in their lackluster gaze.

His senses hold him prisoner
Overwhelmed and alone
Walls were his burden
The light too much to bear

The soaked linen of yesterday's news
Stained with fear from battles before
Eclectic hoarding and microwave meals
Swallows a sharp suit and a badge

Headlights cast broken shadows
Each a spectre of the past
Empty scotch and cigarette holes
A slow crawl to solitude

Light burns through a slither
Heart beating through the walls
Strangled by the sirens
That triggered him before

He needs to be cradled
Yet no one comforts him
He rocks back and forth
Rhythmic on the floor

Screams muted by paralysis
Silence pervades the void
Fractured by the rasp and
A crescendo of emotions

The warning bells pass
They did not come for him
His symphony of sorrow
Plays out to an empty room

By Darren Wall ©

In the quiet spaces where my heart resides,
I craft a tale of endurance,  where emotion hides.
A facade of fine, a smile painted on,
Hiding the storms, where shadows are drawn.

Through the echoes of laughter, a silence persists, Enduring the ache, with clenched-fist twists.
I say I'm fine, a whispered refrain,
Yet in the depths, a tempest remains.

In the theater of tears, I play my part,
A master of pretending, a work of art.
The world sees strength, a resilient sheen,
But beneath the surface, a different scene.

I endure the weight, the burdens I bear,
A stoic facade, a delicate affair.
Yet, in this masquerade, emotions entwine,
For sometimes, saying "I'm fine" is a valiant design.

So let the verses of endurance unfold,
In the silent poetry of stories untold.
I wear a mask, a masterpiece divine,
Enduring, pretending, yet somehow,
I'm fine.

Open to our inner desires
We want to find true affection.
Hoping such emotion is real.
With our heads in the clouds
We don't anticipate,
The imperfection
Or the human situation.
Before the errors
We frequently make.
We experience,
All the turmoil and drama.
We continue to chastise.
Even despise,
We tolerate and normalise,
An entire world of suffering.
In contrast to the vision, we see.
Do we truly know?
The path love will go.
How to have sincerity
We're not sure where to start.
Absorbed in the vision of
The idealism of the heart.
I've concluded.
Life isn’t what –
We imagine it to be.
The concept of love
Is stronger than –
The reality.