J 2d
Knock knock.
I've been knocking on
your door
for a while now.

A question, a haunting thought,
"how long can I keep doing this?"

From a dark corner,
heard a whisper,

"that door will never open
if you have no place to
dwell inside."

My heart sank, like a rock
thrown in a lake.

I already broke my heart waiting.
I don't want to break my hand,
if I keep trying.
Knock knock. Drunk.
can i be close to You again
or have i ruined myself so much
that You don't even recognize me
sometimes i don't even recognize
myself when i look into the mirror
my dearest friend
i want to come back home
but i'm not sure i'm welcomed
there anymore
if i could just hold on to
the hem of your coat
maybe i'd go back to who i used to be
maybe the familiar feeling would awaken that faith inside of me
i used to have a sense of freedom
within Your arms
i wanted to stay there
i didn't want to leave
i know these past few years
i've adopted a lot of self destructive tendencies
as if they were my family
they all live with me and
god, how they run me into the ground
it's the voice singing me to sleep
when no one else is around
serpentinium Feb 15
and what is there to fear
in the refuge of bedrock,
in the embrace of flaming
sword and iron shield,
in bronze hands that
cradled us when we
were but dust beneath
a night sky filled with
stars,
who spoke past the
rivulets of time to
forge seas from the
embers of dying stars
and unfurled entropy
into a flat sheet across
an ever expanding universe,
of a god who, looking at
angels with wings the
size of galaxies, sought
to make a home for
a host of insignificant
creations instead,
whose lives could be
measured out in grains
of sand, spooled in mitotic
spindles of telomeres,
fragile pieces of DNA
covered with the fingerprints
of divinity.
i like science, i like god, i like writing poems that incorporate both!
I had to google monotony
funny how in the flow of things
you forget everything.
tell you youre doing all this to get to something
but you settle for the acquisition of things.
what did you want before you dived into this?
was there a moment,
before this time, that you had, to think about
what you wanted?
mostly no.
it's all yes or no,
that's the thing.
yes college no job
yes happy no friends
I know what I wanted because I did have a moment as a kid
before they told me about money.
yknow? it's kinda funny
you knew this was coming
we all knew what was coming.
they told us as kids
that it gets worse
we didnt believe
so we never did act
and we cant now
because weve been beaten down by repetition and expectations
and that's a fact.
and some of you can figure out how to get back
to the time before money,
if only for some moments,
and I envy that.
A barrage of arrows
and you just stand
it doesn't hurt

You run away
and they get your back
then you can feel it

A wall of flame
walking through
it doesn't hurt

You cower
and test it with a finger
then you've lost a finger

Hale
can't hurt you
if you're minding your own business

but hale
will rip up
an umbrella if you let it

Your eardrums can't burst
if it's front row
but they can
if it's a hand
with the right force

Wearing metal
to protect from metal
means you've wasted some
material for the foundry

Time staring at a conversation piece
is worth more than
time arranging your armor
so that you have
more time another day
to arrange your armor

A pepper spray in the bag
is worth eight to the face

and paranoia always wins the race
Chloe Feb 9
The bustle of wheels and shoes across marble
are muted by the high ceilings
of the great Arrival Hall.

Underneath its fluorescent skies
a long back river flows
winding around the headlands
of counters and
disappearing into x-ray caverns.

The smell of suitcases hangs in the air like
morning mist pooling around ankles.
Not quite fading with the passing of day,
but mingling with wafts of fresh coffee
-and jet fuel.

From somewhere in the distance a chapel bell chimes,
announcing that Passengers of Flight AQ284 can
board the plane in ten minutes time.

the Passengers flock to their gate with
the dependency of cattle to the bell
and trickle, single file
through a metal esophagus and into

a Silver Dragon that flies at midnight
taking off from a starlit path
and into the cold dark night
its echoing, parting roar
speaks of farewells and
bright futures
and
distant lands

so very


far



away.
mediocrity Feb 6
Lead bricks,
breath thick,
Am I drowning or
just barely keeping
my head
above
the
waves?

Dark water conceals
curious creatures nibbling at my skin
  nip   nip   nip
Innocently making off with
itty bits of my raw flesh.
If I stop struggling,
give in and
sink,
They go hungry.
I go free.

My heart resolutely pumps
viscous, sticky life
(like honey)
slowly through my veins.
What's the rush?
The roar in my ears accompanying
panic-struggle-desperation-fear
is absent.
Sink or swim,
the outcome is the same.

I breathe deep
And feed the fish.
Your arctic blue eyes
Light my heart on fire
Your cold flames of ice
Burn me
Yet I only feel a slight chill
As my heart erupts into electric blue flames

Your frost-bound lips brush against mine
And my frostbitten heart
Melts
But freezes again as they leave
And forms a shell as hard as stone
And as cold as ice

Yet you leave me
Cold and unprotected
The turquoise embers still smoldering
Maybe I should fight ice with ice
But your hypnotizing gaze
Pierces into my soul and ignites it once more

The world bows to my will and power
But do you?
I am invincible from everything
But from your soul of ice
Your cold flames
And your arctic blue eyes
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
My mechanical heart
beats against my ribcage.
A robot in human skin.
Hide it well, and nobody will know
That you’re not real, but you’re just a girl
Trying to be normal, trying to fit in.

Tried to follow my dreams,
Tried to follow my heart.
I listened to it,
But all I heard was
Scrape, scrape, scrape, scrape, scrape.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
A ticking time bomb,
Waiting to go off.
How much more can I take?
How much more can I stand?
How many ticks left
Before I burst and explode?
I’m just trying to live.

But
No
One
Will
Even
Care
John Alex Jan 29
Long ago, there was a man who stood
On the outskirts of a village he once fought for
The gates were rusted, painted with blood
With prejudice he was banished by the conqueror

"You shall set foot in these grass no more
Or set your gaze upon the town's sunsets
You shall not walk, cruise, or pass its stones
Do so and be met with blades and arrows."  

With great grit he smiled
As if he was welcomed with beer and wine
As if the banners were hung
As if the people sang the song of victory  

"If it is your decree, my majesty then
I shall leave my home, my people
I shall flee to the West,
And towards it I shall run endlessly."

With vigor and aplomb he added;
"But my king, you shall not forget
That a man who treads the West
Is destined to reach the East again."

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown
So days, weeks, years yet not long after,
He who once renounced a marvelous knight
Became he who shouts at passing rats

One day while begging alms with cupped palms
His ears, wrinkled and old but still clear; heard a familiar voice
And his eyes, sank by time and forlorn,
Witnessed the return of the stars, the moon, the sun

“I have walked, ran, and rode in my journey
I have met, slain, and aided people in my journey
Yet in the wars I’ve fought during my voyage,
None was harder than what you’ve put me through.”

“And now I return.”
The king, now a mere vagabond, closed his eyes
Hearing the familiar sound of a sword unsheathing, he whispered
“And now you return.”
Next page