Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
There's a certain kind
That holds you hostage
Way up there in the bleachers
In a red-light district
Cold and cheap
It lures you because you're lurable
Attach and you're stuck up there
In a certain kind
Of dilapidated ivory tower

It's only later on
When you're broken
When the nights have woven
Their history and the light
Has drained
Only when you're pushed out
Only when you're shoved off
Only then does the truth
Begin to talk

Until then it's been silent
Though gradually loosing appetite
For despair, denial, dilemma
Only when unhooked
Does that fierce, quite dismissal
Begin to beg for something else
Only then does
A certain other kind
Begin to go wild for itself

You wonder how yourself
Moldy and molting
And mad with lies
Had so deceived its own
You wonder how
If there is a god
S'he coulda watched you bleed
With self-betrayal
And sat there idle
While you slowly crumbled

But admit it
You were terribly cocky up there
In the pink and belly-full
***** and hookered
If G O D woulda spoken
You woulda spit in the face of divinity
And you probably did

So that certain kind
Watched and waiting
For another
Certain kind
To choke the bejasus outa ya
'til you slowly faded to full stop
And dropped to your knees
To a certain other kind
I wrote this in 2011 after many many years of turmoil and personal upheaval. It was the first of many that followed.......I'd written songs but never much poetry up until then.........It was written during a passage and an awakening to the disowned parts of me that I'd suppressed all my life. IT's a hymn to the betrayal of self through a life only partially lived
Nathan Box Aug 2017
Broken glass in various forms washes up on ocean shores.
Edges smoothed by the violence of salt.
The water was never meant to be home.
Again, they find themselves in unfamiliar territory.

As I stand over green, blue, and brown pieces, the sun breaks through.
Gathering warmth, they shine in the winter air.
Here, before me is a metaphor for my life.

I am broken glass in various forms.
Made of varying shapes and types, I have found myself on unfamiliar shores.
Beached for a while then taken into the grips of the vast, I return again to where it all started.

Now, people comment on how out of place I am.
In the same breath, they compliment my beauty.
We are products of our environments.
Time moves us into new directions and places.
When uncomfortable, we shine.

Looking up from the glass, I feel a calm come over me.
Epiphanies come to me in the strangest places.
Andrew Kerklaan Dec 2011
As the buzzing, humming, whirr was pulled towards the centres I felt the awesome intensity of the energy that is so often perceived to be that of the colossal being  Alpha and Omega. There was blinding light and ear splitting sound as this entity sensed my energy in acknowledgement. My mouth fell open and spilt words nearly silent that whispered "What is this plain of existence?"  Like clouds of ****** the being seemed to shimmer, speaking not with words but rather through my soul itself, filling me with it's brilliant light. I felt warm but had chills from within and shaking in my feet.  
  
                I was given a purpose and a place. My mind had been set free. I felt as the being departed the vessel of which I am contained it left behind something that I already had owned but it had simply shown me the way...  
  
    
  
I hope only that this gift does not go to waste.
Grey mirror Jul 2017
What does this life yearns for?
What is your purpose?
Do you require weapons?
Are you preparing for a battle?
Where is the battlefield?
Is the mind the ground you are battling on?
The weapons are made ready, the battle is set,
The enemies, your emotions are drawing closer.

A drop of silence suddenly fell to the ground,
Then a voice like a thunder roars out loud,
Asking questions that linger through,
What are you fighting for?
What are you seeking?
What is the reward for the victor?

It's the battle against the will and emotions.
The fight not to make unworthy decisions.
It's a defining moment
Whether to cross a bridge or build a new one.
To win is of no concern
But to gain control is the challenge.
The TRUTH is what we seek,
Unknowingly we all search for an
**Epiphany
At one point we all question what is the purpose of our lives. Eventually we reach a point where we find epiphany.
Did any of you experience this?
Malaya Sanchez Jul 2017
you were there
……..slowly playing
…………..by the space
……………….and your colors
…………………..harmonize
……………………with my breath
…………………….inside you
……………………..like a psychedelic
……………………. kaleidoscope
……………………..you drifted
…………………….and slowly
……………………you were gone
………………….like a bubble
………………like a euphoria
…………..that suddenly
………became
a dysphoria
glumplum Jul 2017
You took the warmth with you,
For a long time I sat alone in the cold,
Waiting for that warmth to come back,
I looked for it in others,
In my friends,
In my family,
Even in strangers,
Though I caught a few glimpses of it,
It wasn't the same,
After a while I gave up on searching,
I accepted the cold and all of it's bitterness,
But one day , I looked in my reflection,
There was a familiar glint in my eyes,
Inside of me,
And I finally found the warmth that you "stole,"
But you never really had it,
And now I know,
That you nor anyone else can take this from me,
I'm my own sunshine,
And never again will I forget that.
K Balachandran Jul 2017
There was blinding darkness to deal with
at first; worse, glaring light to fend off too,
I held you closely,to my heart and moved
we pledged to explore together till the end.

But the play of light and darkness recur
now with different colors and other means.
We lost the compass that point the path we sought
we parted ways smiling at a juncture, unexpected,
in silence, though still aware of our one true calling
the  relentless quest to find a meaning absolute.

Now you are struck by the moment of epiphany
ask yourself about my whereabouts, perhaps fearing
I'm lost forever in  some wilderness unknown,I gather
may be far far away from you, now you'd be thinking
as you had concluded  I am wild, a meteor through space
But my love,never fear, find me there,within you, secure
at our old, rendezvous, that quiet,green space,eternal.
M Norris Jun 2017
They say "walk a mile in their shoes"
so you can understand their blues.
But I have traveled all around,
hundreds of shoes upon the ground.

The fisherman in the shack by the sea
who, to a hurricane, lost his family.

The old soldier lying drunk in the gutter,
who saw three wars that still make him shudder.

I've worn hundreds of shoes, two for each mile.
and for every frown, I found a smile.

The young, bright-eyed child in the park,
whose puppy just caught a frisbee with a bark.

The young couple on the couch
tangled together,
knowing through anything they will be forever.

They say "walk a mile in their shoes,"
so you can understand their blues.
But if you "love a mile in their heart"
and you truly learn who they are.
People are like icebergs, there may be more to them than you guess.
Aidan A Apr 2017
The oblivious avian
Has yet to comprehend
The existence ****** upon him.

Atop his perch,
Peering through the gilded bars
Of his confinement -
He awaits the feeder to be stocked
And chirps
At the idea of assured sustenance,
At the thought that this space,
This place, is his own
Through this glass house he peers -
The cage became a home
And over time hes grown
To accept that life is as it is, but

The life he lived
Was not his,
This collective of feathers
Has failed to see, that
He can live a life,
He can simply be
Devoid of pain and sorrow
But at the cost of not understanding
The use of 'tomorrow'
Or to feel progression
For time has no place
For our fair feathered bird
Whose captivity grasps
Further than he can retrace.

Currency is of no use to him
And time is a human construct
A lack of philosophical conduct
Would argue there is no price
To the life he lives...

His wings are not bound, yet
He is bound from flight
The room is warm at night,
Yet never feels quite right
The songs he sings are
Only replied with echoes
Of what could've been...

As he watches the fireplace nearby -
A mesmer of light
The glimmer in his eyes
Gets just a little less bright.

The epiphanised avian
Has just begun to comprehend
That redemption is ****** upon him.
This is not about a bird. Then again, it is. Thanks for reading!
Next page