Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mister J Sep 2017
That steamy weather
That moist air
Your addictive kisses
Your lingering touch
Your mesmerizing eyes
Your porcelain body
Your seductive curves
The way you hold me
And cherish me in your arms
The way you smile at me
And how it takes me away
How it blew my mind
And dulled my senses
I wish I could press rewind

How vivid it was for me
Everything you made me feel
And yet how come I alone
Have these memories of you and me?
Went to the weird side of the internet, found this "phenomenon"
****.
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2017
With time comes wisdom.
And in time, you will
be able to see many
truths in a maze
of falsehoods.
The world evolves and not for the better. To find the truth in certain things, takes time.
Lyvana Nyx Aug 2017
Stop and start
A beating heart
Boil my blood
Burn my skin
Free my ashes
Hellfire within

This dead soul consumed
By a vengeful world
No heaven or hell
Eternal purgatory
Living cost
So much more
Than death

Strike fear
Into them
Make them good
Because they fear
Retribution
Judgement will come
Did you pay your dues?

Sins wrapped in shadows
The darkness within
Slips out the cracks
Turning innocence out
Guilty pleasures
Everyday trangressions
Just one more
The promise of tomorrow
Be redeemed
Pray to be forgiven

False perfection
Surface beauty
A shining beacon
Blinding saintliness
A matyr to the cause
By living purely
Give not onto temptation
I wrote this after reading a former friend's poem "Buried Alive."  This poem, as well as his other ones, can be found on beelzeblog.wordpress.com if you're interested in checking it out.  

My thoughts on this is some people are "good" because they fear being bad and getting sent to hell, versus being good because they want to be good.
Jacqueline Grace Aug 2017
Pieces shattered on the ground surround me
Not glass
Not scraps
Not microscopic fragments
Because then I would have walked away
What would have been the use?

Left to become dust 
Forgotten
Swept away

But no
These broken pieces were sturdy
Strong
Or so I thought

Each time I thought I had collected all the pieces in my arms
One would appear
Out of the blue

The final remnant
Let me collect this
Then I could be whole again

Only, this heavy piece sent
The pile I had been cradling
Crashing to the ground

And so, I start again
Collecting
One by one
As if nothing had ever happened.
----
Seema Aug 2017
Driving down the watchful lane
My car choked, so I stopped at a scene
A false image or a dying shadow
Sitting by the window, a surreal widow
Smiling from the mirrors reflection
An awkward feint delusional reaction
Upon the quivered candle flames
Flickers her dark lustful eyes in claims
Maybe it's an illusion or a trick of my mind
As my body has fallen, weak by this find
This place seems, full of buried secrets
Along the sound of wild crickets
The horror adventure plays within my sight
Ghosts hovering everywhere in white
I closed my eyes to silence my mind
To weave off the horrific sight of all kind
But something grabbed my leg from behind
My voice echoed to beg and I began to unwind
Yet another mystery buried underground
My car engine raced all of a sudden,
I shook off the scenery, and turned around...


©sim
Fiction
Brent Kincaid Jul 2017
You gave us angels and demons
And no lessons on fighting evil
Except for us to pray
The demons away
And put angels please
On our Christmas trees.

You designed specious poetry
And insisted it was truth.
You corrupted our youth
With jealousy and hate
By teaching us natural
Was simply not natural.

You dressed in golden cloth
And in disgusting holy sloth,
You designed palaces
And bejeweled chalices
As you grew roley-poley
Then declared yourself holy.

You set up rules of sanctity
That you, in your insanity
Could never live up to
Not even come close to,
Because your image was not
Like the rules we have got.

A confidence game by scamsters
Who only want to be masters
Of a race of the gullible
And socially malleable.
Your morals are a mystery
Since the beginning of history.
BSeuss Jul 2017
The worst
Place to be
On a battle field,
Is taking cover
From the man
Firing at you with
Blank rounds.
(Title edited. Didn't notice)
D Holden Jul 2017
Don't trust him.
His game is to play you; showmanship winning over the room.
Capability and knowledge cunningly imitated with sleight of hand.
Promises, their empty conclusion yet to unfold, and the nod of a mask.

Bluff and deceit form the paint on his mask,
and I see the cracks forming.
Next page