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Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2021
Turning in bed throughout the night
Pestered by demons
Didn't invite
The last thing wanna do is face my pain
It's the only subject boiling on my brain
You said not to worry and stress without cause
Know no other way of coping with my flaws
Is it easy for everyone else to show themselves love?
Self- loathing drags me down and I cannot rise above
First doubt creeps in like 5 o'clock shadows
Insults that start small and then grow
On mind like frost coating a thin layer of ground
Freezing to the insecurity to which I am bound
Last night's insomnia paints bags under eyes
Circles so deep and dark they can't even be disguised
I eat up lies you dish out like I haven't been fed in weeks
Hungry because gut never finds the nourishment it seeks
The distractions I consume to fill the void only render me more hollow
Skeleton becomes a nest of pity in which I choose to wallow
Fears bloom faster than blossoming flowers
Watered by teardrops that pour out in showers
Within bones
The middle where marrow should be
Instead filled with stones
Inside skin a storm is raging complete with lightning and thunder
Perished as teardrops poured
Presently pain pulls me under
I quickly surrender to rain clouds in the sky
Working to save my soul
Guess it is time to accept that in this universe some forces are beyond my control
I wish i could choose who i love
Spriha Kant Apr 2021
Stress on the summit is sometimes a rock heavy enough to not roll downward even by the application of periodic high-intensity forces.

           © SPRIHA KANT
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
The soul is something to nurture
To be touched with gentle hands
Will only blossom when cared for
By someone who understands

And your eyes feel like a dagger
Piercing through my skin
Puncturing vulnerable parts
Hidden deep within

Once full of serenity and strength
My body now lies hollow
An ocean of potential dried up
Empty pit where demons wallow

Drawing me in against my will
Like a fish caught on a line
Powerless to escape the hook
Captivity hard to define

Freedom drowned in a sea of regret
Pulled by the tide's direction
Swept up in the undertow
Waves crash and silence objection

Reasons remain a mystery
My heart caged without knowing why
Held hostage by past transgressions
Imprisoned by forces too great to defy
I kinda drifted way from the original meaning with this one
Maria Mitea Aug 2020
O,mega love on the spot,
I loved it in school,
and I loved it later        
down on the scholastic path.

When everyone in the class adored alpha
I devoted my time to the latest, called by some the ultimate limit and by others
the resistance sign.

The first on the moon
Watch - ing NASA
And keeping the time of
Royal Forces Flying,
When worn by code
007 in “no time to die”

O, mega
Resistance sign,
Was that a mistake
In the Greek alphabet,

Are you always talking to me in your own language,
the universe always whirred back to me using you?
Gabriel burnS Mar 2020
They say that scale can break the laws of science
A crime so high in magnitude
Yet they cannot police
This bully that reality turns out to be

We met by means of tunneling improbabilities
The kiss of a miracle
Punishing the God complex
Of the self-righteous
Because the real laws, unknowable,
Dwell in realms higher than dogmatic notion
Whose knowledge is the surface of an ocean

Hence judgement cannot be
Wrought by the swimmers
And their fear of mortality
That guides them through the waves
And so their laws are the transgression

And We
Are the justice of the storm
...might be a quantum phenomenon...

It's funny to me when I hear scientists say that in a situation, such as "at the quantum level, particles act so bizarrely their behaviour breaks the laws of science."
No, it doesn't. It doesn't break any universal laws, just the current knowledge on how everything works; it just means we don't know enough yet, apparently. Don't make it sound so arrogant, as if we know the most important things, and reality dares disobey our extraordinarily accurate perception of things. Just accept it's probably not enough currently.
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 11/9/2019

From boulder to boulder, I was standing on a fragile plank
that separates light from darkness, death from life,
over the huge explosion of the precipice foamed...
Below me, the roar and beating of the wings of a dark night.

Through the moist floor of the moss tapestries, the abyss
is growling and, like a hound, rattling with the chain...
At my feet its foams, its anger, its howling...
I trample them, I strike them with lightning bolts... I am just a shade.

From boulder to boulder, I've descended under the mad assault
of waters, ferociously rushing at me and at the the abyss,
stunned by the simultaneous firing of a hundred death's guns.

And suddenly I felt like a light bird feather,
carried far away from the quiet marina by the breeze,
and trembling, I covered my eyes... I was just daydreaming.

Maria Konopnicka (1842-1910)
* I was just - a body, I was just - a matter.
Ivan Brooks Sr Jun 2019
Sometimes all you have is the forces within you.
Sometimes all you have to listen to is the sound
of those forces crashing like the ocean waves.
Sometimes all you sense is the internal motion
and vibration of the opposing forces within you.
The forces of love and hate that's found in everything.
The forces of good and evil that govern human emotions,
the forces of growth and stagnation that drive productivity
and the force of artistry that fuels and enhances creativity.

#Ivanbrookspoetry©️
15.6.2019
Forces....was inspired by the work of anothe poet.#credits
Yasmine Aref Jun 2019
A short story of who I am
A drastic change thanks to time
A young lass with angels learning to dance
But the devils thought it's better to rhyme
Got locked in a box of words
Knowing letters as the only swords
With it fighting kings and lords
No running, only training voice chords

Words as loud as explosions
Passion hot as fire
Wasting paper after paper
Ink never ending, heart never tires
For the devils control her mind
And angels control her brain
Both fighting to win the war
And the young lass is trying to stay sane
Isn't good poetry always a letter of an inner struggle, isn't it an invisible force pulling the strings of our mind, controlling our brain to move our pens and pour down our hearts.
K Balachandran Jan 2019
Crimson forces of dawn,
Pardon cowering failed night;
Change of reign again!
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