Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Robert L Sep 2020
Inspection leads some men
to brief resurrection,
But that course can also
lead to a defection.

There’s often some needing,
for a frenzy of feeding,
When we seek to feast,
on an ego that’s bleeding.

Is it real or some mirage,
lost in forest or garage?
So many casualties of truth,
how can we triage?

And this is that place
too well we all know,
that if you disagree
well that’s just your ego.

And right or wrong
you must submit,
Or be tossed from the circle
a dishonorable ****.

How is it we can be so blind,
to not see we are of a kind.
Who run about with desperate shouts,
without a mindful mind.

In the dark I see a wraith
Perhaps a remnant of our faith,
Ephemeral and tinged with rust
Forgotten father of our trust.

I’m not speaking here to thee,
what’s this paradox I see
But you said that, no I did not,
Oh, what a travesty!

Walk a mile in my shoes,
see for yourself what you may lose,
Perhaps you’ll find the fit so right
that it awakes you in the night.

And there you’ll lie and toss and turn,
amidst the loss amidst the burn
Oh, sad child who would not learn
Please say a prayer for me.
Cattatonicat Jun 2020
Kissing ***, left and right
Feeding on the weak, feeding them sweet nothings
Makes you wonder if they can mean anything truly sweet

Kissing ***, up and down
Feeding on the weak, feeding them fake respect
Makes you wonder if they can truly respect anything
Diksha Prashar May 2020
Don't hide
Let me read along the lines
Connecting mine
Heart ties
Like vine
Feeding from
Your sizzling warmth
Surrounded by
Your touch.
victoria Feb 2020
Title; Feeding off their unhappiness

Bring your silver lined buckets
Catch and gather
Tears for collectors

What's your preference
Sadness so valuable
Happiness now obsolete

Your contentment rising high
Filling your void
Empty buckets make you cry

Too dry a day today
Happiness a comeback
Fill their buckets
Your tears of hate
Brandon Conway May 2019
Soma that seeps
like little creeks
off the edge
a tongue outstretched
wilted flower beds
that pretty head
arid to wetlands
Poetic T Jan 2019
She was the ***** of creation,
and her milk seeded the stars.
          Purity of white feeding light
                          into the endless darkness..

Her hair weaving
                     the constellations together,
  a thread of intricate gravity.
Holding every  moment
                          in a unity of creation.

Gazing upon the her gown,
                   supernovas bursting forth,
the old giving new beginnings to
                    woven designs, drawn up
before the first stars shone forth..

A mother of a universe, of old and new.
           For even one day she will pass,
but until that time she will be the milk
    suckling the stars to a life of new birth.
neth jones Aug 2018
I Sleep ;
I Slip
In Doze, I Seep out into the Scenes ;

In Potions Deep
In Notions Cold and Preasuring
I Fit and Knit my Crown
I Coral
I Knot and Concrete a Frown
But though I Invite my Efforts
My Thoughting is Leaks and Tearing *

Over Whale but Underwater
I Recover Nothing Reassuring
Slowing to a Pale
In Ocean Cold
My Feedings are Slurring to a Drown
My Motions ; Enwombed and Collected
An Unfoetal, my Body Undertakes a Vulnerable Mould

The Surface
The Ship Blinks, on Fire
And Gifts from the Broken Hold Sink to me
It's all a Wink Directed at me
A Humour

But I am become Prepared Still
For the Next Life
I Discard, Decending Still
A Treat Sunk Below
A Monsterous Breakfast

                                                 *note­ : as in, secreting saline, watery fluid
Next page