Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
LearnfromBOBD Aug 2023
Who am i
Before i was born
What was i doing
In the mysteries of the unknown
Do i have a name
Where do i call my home
Did i say goodbye
Before i was gave birth by my mom.
Why did i chose my parents.
Who carried me first,
Who cleaned me up,
Who wiped my first tears
Who were my first friend
Why do i have to be in haste
Why do i have to die
Where are you taking me to
Am i going home ?
If a blind man can not see the sun
Does not mean the sun does not exist
Who is to tell me the enigma of Life
M Solav Jun 2023
There will certainly be
A great many of them
Far readier than I’ll ever be
O blessed unborn one
Yet endowed with inexistence
To whom mercy shall slip from
And re-emerge in its awakening
Beings past or below my shrinking age
A great many among them
Whom I once did or shan’t collide
Beyond the captured scope of mutual days
To relate to you what high events
Unrolled before our common eyes
Folks granted with the privilege
Promoted to the status of witnesses
Historians, athletes and prophets
By themselves and their narratives
I let them unroll their good accounts
Forfeit their tales of what must be bound
To mould your unsuspecting
Circumspect mind and
Save you from sensing
Delicately sensing
Voices that once knew more
Than in haste speak
Than with haste carry
Daringly could the silence hear
Untangle the mumbling tango
Of the vociferous crystal parade
My darling unborn one
The tortuous path out of the forgings
Of reason almighty, the ventricular beast
Played and echoed in loops and on repeat
No, you shan’t feast on their hymns
Yours is meant for the engineering of belief
In something further, of glory,
Far more, furthermore,
Something extraordinary
Than the days of days
And the knowns of knowns
And to lodge firmly out of the stillness
That’s woven in the heart of your chanting storm
And in the precipice of the forecast
May you never come to designate
But the space between the notes
So that when it comes not to ever pass
We shall rejoice in the untold absence
That binds us as if pierced by an arrow
While we ask about the bow
Written on June 24th, 2023.

— Copyright © M. Solav —

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact for usage requests. Thank you.
Man May 2023
Simulated tastes
Emulated face
Of a careless faker

Think in haste,
Take and you take,
Living life as if it were a race

What will you say, when you meet your maker?
What do you do for a living?


No stress
Ylzm Mar 2021
the yearling roasted on the spit
its drippings crackled the fire
huddled in a smoky closed space
family with a neighbour, or two
bags packed, shoes on, ready to go

the meat carefully carved
its skeleton intact, unbroken
with endives rolled in flatbread
unleavened as we had no time
meal's remains destroyed in the fire

we're ready to leave at any moment
from where we're born and always lived
to a place known only from ancient tales
outside, shrieks and wails, of horror and utter terror
inside, goosebumped, hair standing, we waited, in silence
If you make it
a friend
will make you
Bad decision are made when in haste.
You don't need to rush in order to achieve something
This will make you regret later on and it will be a tough fall to get back up from
Samual Hidden Nov 2020
The call of the void,
The ever present touch
The ever graceful nudge
The sudden realization
The hasty correction
The resent of thought
The promise of never again.
As I surf on some people's ideaologies,
I notice that
They spend their time with others
Maybe to waste in haste!
annh Aug 2020
Three Scottish hags brew up a political storm in a...cauldron.
Inspired by Suri Ben N who got me overthinking about brevity, Shakespeare, alternative storylines, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and the existential milieu in general.

‘We do on stage things that are supposed to happen off. Which is a kind of integrity, if you look on every exit as being an entrance
somewhere else.’
- Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead
Next page