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celeste fuma Jul 2018
blue lilies
now;wilted and zapped
petals of hibiscuses;
frosting and drooping
pressed between our pages
stenching and staining
them edges

the flesh stenches
the putrid blooms
carve squealing wounds
the blood engulfs the heart
that deliquesces

the crevices are graved
then the heart deliquesces
and falls into two
down/a rotting corpse
it oozes into

the disgust of existence
creeping through shredded layers
of shroud
covering the withering bones,

it melts eventually-the shroud
until it reaches the bones
crashes them there
spilling the liquids/
all that is left bare
is already atrophying

and i guess that's the difference between dying and rotting
dying at least leaves you
the voids to hold onto
to be nostalgic for what was held
dying-paints,hues from the ashes that blew

but rotting
eats away all that existed
and snaps leaving
odor that i need  

the craft of us
all worn out
the fragments dis plumed through holocausts
the rebellion in ruination  
and the twitched cold feet
each breath i've took,now smothering
you,me,and everything

the reflections,contradictions
intoxicating,caging charcoal abstracts
punctured and ruptured
all constituents consuming and decaying now
every treble
so heavy

freezing not frozen
perishing not lighter

maybe these moments
-they never stop
cause right there in the midst
everything rots.
-/and we let it

Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2018
I don't understand
why are we concealing our heaviness
our heartaches
our blues
behind laughter.
Packaging them as humor
and art with a ribbon on top
when it's dark raw and pain
I don't understand
why we aren't talking about it.
Because it is just becoming worse
for you, I everyone.
Dominique R Jun 2018
I am surrounded by light but all i can feel is the darkness creeping into my soul. burrowing, making its home in me. I am surrounded by laughter but all i can focus on is the heaviness of my heart. I wish I could just stick my hand into my chest and pull out the melancholy. I wish I could reason with it. “You have no home here!” I’d cry. Throwing it into the sea. It would sink to the bottom and consume me no more.
Mary-Eliz May 2018
tears spill out
from weary eyes

all color drained
no sparkle there
no life

my soul won't hold
the pain today

spirit split
and torn

my mind's sadness
makes my body ache

with leaden feet
weighted heart

when filled with all
this gravity

how can there be

such emptiness inside
Out of nowhere...out of everywhere.
Glory May 2018
It's like
being consumed by a heaviness
like iron on the tongue
the space between skin and bone is just oxygen
The wind
can carry you
and every part of you
with just
a whisper in the breeze

Your soul sinks down
by nothing
'Cept crisp autumn air
Dim Apr 2018
If I had last words they would be…
Well… I mean… I see in those streams of invectives
I see especially people who drink, eat, sleep,
who make all human functions
Which are quite rather ******
And I shall say that they’re heavy
It never stopped being heavy
I noticed
I’ve read so many verses and particularly
verses from the 17th century
Verses, so-called courteous verses
I found 3 or 4 good ones in thousands of them
There’s little lightness in man
He’s heavy... isn’t he
And nowadays he’s extraordinary in heaviness
Since automobiles, alcohol, ambition, politics make him heavy
Even heavier
It’s mostly like that, he’s extremely heavy
Maybe one day shall we see a mind rebellion against the weight
But it isn’t for tomorrow
For now... we’re heavy
So I’d say indeed
If I had to die
I’d say
Man is heavy
That’s all
Oh! They were mean but...
Because they were heavy
They were heavy
They were heavy… jealous of a certain lightness
Jealous... jealous like a woman who wears a clothing burlap
instead of another who wears lace
Like someone who owns a workhorse
instead of a thoroughbred
Jealous of being heavy... that’s all
They weigh... they're crippled
Heaviness makes them *******
Therefore we can beware of them
They’re ready to do anything
Oh sure
They’re ready to do anything
And to activate heaviness
They drink, aren’t they
So when they drink, they turn into sledgehammers
It’s frightening, isn’t it
Sledgehammers without control
Yes, they’re especially like this
They activate... increase their weight
Instead of making themselves lighter
Oh! They’re not in Ariel’s side
They’re more like Caliban
More and more
And i'm not coping. No matter how much you think I am, no matter how much I try to show that I am; it hurts too much. It hurts everyday and I can't relieve myself of this aching pain in my chest and the heaviness of it all. I try and I try but I just can't. It just, simply, hurts too much.
Tom McCone Sep 2015
solemn was the cratered gleam,
pointing through engorged blossoms
out in the front yard. the thing,
itself, was gnashed by teeth in
reddened cloak. a crown of
empty glow. slowly,
the sky percolated out, through
my thoughts and dreams; places
left over, broken glass strewn
in my head and gut. lone
hand stirring in the clean light.
hypnotic path, yet i stray.
so strange, so strange.

so, i
set meaning on wind.
yet, yielding no answer,
dark pinnacles hide you,
watching back over all of
this expanse.

my heart is no small cavern:
no amount of howling will
change its flows or ebbs,
hollow knocks, or nestings.
your fields are immense, oh
brighter light, and deform smooth,
in all fine transience, leaving
dusty trails in the corners
of the buried systems
of my mind.

and the wealth of the world was
no more than specks upon the mantle,
in our eyes. we sat above it all,
counting out time on
fingers and toes,
stone, and
[to the tune of:]
O Lord, I know and see that I’m powerless
to fight against circumstance’s mountain;
meet needs; anoint me with oils of gladness
as those, who mourn -before God in Zion-.

Rest Your mantle of praise upon me now;
allow me to recuperate my strength and sing
mightily of Your goodness, grace and mercy.
For You alone, dominate my heart’s strings

with the knowledge of the scarlet thread,
that binds my Life’s existence to You;
enlighten my spirit with more of Your Truth,
insuring that enemy traps… I will eschew.

Give me ‘beauty for ashes’, soon and suddenly;
from my sadness and hurt, I will have victory!
I will never possess a spirit of fainting,
since I’m His child, on a spiritual trajectory

that insures my ability to overcome troubles.
Avoiding bitterness from my experiences of pain,
I’ve felt the healing force my soul required-
found alone in the power… of His Holy Name!
Author Notes

Inspired by:
Isa 61

Learn more about me and my poetry at:

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Ceryn Mar 2015
There's so much a heart can hold,
but there's only so much it can take.
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