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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.
We carry these heavy boulders
tending to forget to shrug our shoulders
Release the pressure of our endeavours
of daily drums we beat with rigor.
Pit stop before the brakes disintegrate
from the overbearing weight of worlds we create
and expect it all to stop when we wink at the stars.
Returning to rest, only a moment for our conscious cranium
then awake and get going, just as quickly as we killed the engine
only a few lonely hours before.
vanessa fonseca Aug 2014
I hear night sounds (and it makes my heart hurt)
this is the time my chest will be wrapped in blankets from the inside
this is the time when I realize I made a mistake, followed by the time I realize    I’m still making the same mistake (even right now)
I walked for hours wishing something would happen to me (something brand new, I think)
I left a note with my email on it
-anyone at all
i wrote this at 9pm, i dont know
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