melanie 4d

a simple minded nightmare
chases me thru the night
& into tomorrow.

only asking to be heard,
to be understood,
to be taken at my word,
I was betrayed


in her whisper i hear fire
in her screams i hear storms

Jim Musics Nov 24

You have said it
I always thought so
But it bothers me in a new way this evening

The Christmas letters that were more popular a while ago
Were the children of ego
Yes, so nice to know how wonderful they all are

Overly accessible now, is the part of life that is displayed on
My Face (Not my face)
It is wonderful to see how my far away family and friends,
   such as  they are, are

I see the “Friends'giving” pictures and I nearly cry,
   but just hiss, 'shit”
I wasn't there. I would have made a laugh, had one.
My friends are many gone. My family too

But I still click on every day, not expecting to see
   Marty or Dick or Carol or Joe
But who is still out there, not with me,
   but available for pictures, videos and chat
Sometimes I am too, but I'm probably playing one of my guitars.

You may hear
My dear, my dears
I will listen for you too

haley Nov 19

my favorite, old,
yet loved book;
the yellowed pages
bent at the corner
as bookmarks,
margins full of notes

a young adult
with a goofy aura,
a gentle smile,
an adventurous look
that never leaves your eyes

your kisses
are addicting
sweet like honey

aggressively intimate

your voice
calm and relaxing,
your laughter
is music to my ears

(as this is different from touch)
it comforts me,
on a rainy day indoors
curled into your arms

home is where the heart is
it beats for you

to the love of my life
Aleeza Nov 18

they say that there are things that you can never unsee
images forever burned into the folds of your brain
and yet I think that there are even more things that you can’t unhear
those things that you want to drown out with music you didn’t even know you had

like that song you’ve just found
and it is new to you and the words may not be that clear for now
but a part of you understands
a part of you feels the string of notes every single moment that song lasts
a part of you understands somehow

like cars passing by the street outside your house at midnight
they are mere whooshes in your dreamlike state
their lights stay for too little of a time
and you can’t help but wonder
of where they are rushing to or what place they go home to
whooshes on cement carrying stories you will never know

like the little crack of disappointment in a relative’s voice
when they learn that you want to be something other than what they want you to be
and you try to laugh it off
but it’s a sting you never thought you would feel again after all this time
and then suddenly how well you’ve been doing doesn’t seem to matter
every single time you thought your smiles could reach the sky doesn’t seem to matter
because how can achievements in a path they disapprove of be something to be proud of?
how can something you fit better into feel wrong?

like the soft ripping of a paper envelope as it’s opened
and you’ve been tense for months about this one thing
and here it is in black and white and colors you wanted to associate with a new beginning
but instead it is all of what your worrying nagged you about
it is the words of the voice in your head printed out on thin paper
here is where the world feels like it drops
the only sound is of the letter being put back into its envelope
gently willing it to disappear

like the silence of someone after you speak
and you hear everything else like a click of a pen or a shifting of positions
your mind runs over a hundred, a thousand things
maybe they didn’t hear what you said?
maybe they don’t want to talk about it?
maybe they don’t get what you’re saying?
maybe you should start a new conversation?
you understand that silence should not be regarded as something bad
but here you are
choked by the possibility of them thinking you’re annoying
and that voice tells you to shut up
however the silence makes nerves tumble out of your mouth
why can’t you stop?

like the dull tapping of your fingertips on a keyboard
it’s been a while since you’ve allowed yourself this
months of pushing down the emotions that tug at you
and all you want to do is punch the words out of you
but there is nothing in the muddle that used to serve you so well
there is nothing because the thought of doing this pulls you deeper into the abyss
how you loved doing this before the world decided to tell you you do it wrong
you may have said that this was a part of you
and it is now another part you have lost

like the short bursts of shouting that you hear every time you take out your earphones
and you are reminded yet again why you keep them in
you are so tired of the voices, so tired of the fighting
you hear the scrape of the dining room chair you’re in as you push away after a meal
and you know too well that that is the last sound you want to hear outside of the music you blast
sometimes you think about how a lot can be different if only some events did not happen
and it is cruel to think that but you do it all the same
life had been peaceful before
now ruined by something you don’t have control over anymore

like the soft music at a small gathering
and there is laughter and glasses clinking and the shuffle of everyone’s steps
you block out that thought in your head that digs its claws
but as soon as you are driving home and staring at the streetlights
everything hits you at 50 miles an hour
you wonder how long your smile stayed there
you wonder if anybody sees it falter
and you can’t even explain to anyone why this happens
because you don’t know the answer yourself

like the constant questions
about why you want to do this or why you’re like this
asking about what you’ve decided on after years of confusion and debates with yourself
and they are too curious, too questioning of how you came upon those decisions
they try to offer explanations of what they think can be better for you
and it is like they do not trust you to know what is best for yourself
they think that what you want and the way you identify yourself isn’t what should be
and all your life you’ve been told that you can’t be this and you can’t do that
so now what should you be?

like the thud thud of your tears on a pillow
and you don’t even know where it hurts anymore
all you know is that when you hold that plushie you’ve had forever
a thousand pinpricks run along your arms and your chest
breathing will never be easy and here you are
too aware of the sound of choking back your cries
because there are things that the world doesn’t have to know
and one of them is how there are days you fracture
after weeks of not even knowing what it is exactly to feel

like the goodbyes after a few hours of talking in a cramped café
you know you’ll see them again but there is an emptiness as you go home
a part of you acknowledges the fact that they aren’t that far away
another part feels the longing for another hour, another hug
you know of each other’s schedules and how it is not practical to keep meeting up
but you want to cling to something other than your pillows and your wavering sanity
and having them with you has helped in a way that you miss instantly
as you are once again plunged into the reality of it all

it is the clock ticks as you wait for something to end
it is the steadying breath you take as you reel yourself back from the hell of your thoughts
it is the song you now use as a lullaby when your system refuses sleep
it is the drum of rain against windows as you try to find yourself again

there are sounds I will never unhear
and there will be days that I can’t stand to be me
but there will be sounds that pull me back
there are days that I continue to fight the voices
and that is what I should always remember.

Seanathon Nov 16

A word from noone
Means nothing at all

But a word from someone
Of significance

Is more harmonized than the angels’ song and more beautiful than the most heartfelt verse to ruminate within the soul

They do mean more at night.

I woke up to my own face,
What was happening?
Then I felt heat and heard a pinging sound,
like a ball bouncing against glass...
Then I realized the bathroom mirror,
Old and stained,
Was taunting me... Ready to scratch...

From a wise sub who taught me a better meaning of poetry while I was in the hospital.

Wandering spirt
Screaming out fear it's
Crying, can you hear it?
It trys to gear it
Toward your ear it
Seem to get near it
Misses and a tear it
Seems to appear it
Solidifies this wandering spirit

Screaming out fear.
Pain instanity
Spewing out tears
Why can't
Anybody hear

Sally A Bayan Oct 28

in what appears to be quiet
so many things take place...
there's buzzing, hearts are pounding,
faraway drums beating, like thunder, blaring,
in a soundlessness that reverberates,
       no one can tell when dewdrops fall
      not a sound permeates the air
      they have long been nourishing,
      moistening the grass of the earth, yet,
      no one hears, no one sees, how, or when...

       the leafholder, without a fiber of speed
       in its body....devours a whole leaf,
       there is no chewing, or munching heard
       even when watched, it gives no sounds.
my purple dendrobium proudly
shows new flower buds with such calm,
from the base of the cattleya orchid, young
green roots take a grasp on the driftwood.
how, or when these took place,
i really didn't hear, or notice.
      on the street, a humble, lightweight
      house spider, with less than eight legs
       suddenly tumbleweeds,
       rolling with the blowing of a gusty wind,
       a crawling see-through ball,  entangling
       fallen strands and tiny strips of street dirt,
       i almost stepped on it,
       i didn't notice....i didn't hear...

      the faucet leaks...pail is nearly filled
      there's a gap of many seconds, before
      each drop falls and touches the surface
      of the rising water...too long....most often
      too late....when heard, and noticed...
so many babies...young children disappear, they
pass away...adults die from many unacceptable
causes......some self-inflicted...some make it normal
an entry into, heard, with passing winds...
we live in this noisiest of planets
every nook, every part, occupied
yet, significant parts of this world....of our life
remain unheard...........unnoticed.

      "i look....but i don't see...
        i listen.....but i don't hear."


Copyright October 28, 2017

For the fortunate, we are born with:

Eyes that can see
Ears that can hear
Legs that can walk
A nose that can smell
A mouth that can speak

For the unfortunate, they are born with:

Eyes that are blind
Ears that are deaf
Legs that are paralyzed
A nose that is anosmic
A mouth that is silenced

We are unfortunate, that we have:

Eyes that spend hours staring into screens
Ears that spend hours listening to walls
Legs that spend hours benched on sofas
A nose that only knows the smell of perfume

They are unfortunate, that they wish they had:

Eyes that could glare at clouds and stars...
Ears that could hear the voice of another...
Legs that could take a walk in the park...
A nose that could smell the fragrance of flowers...
A mouth that had a voice to say "hello"...

We are blessed with senses, yet we are senceless beings...

Who really is the unfortunate???
Who really are the Disabled???

We waste our senses yet we will wither in dispaire when we loose them...
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