Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Afraid of existing not living
Terrified of my freedom being banished
Horrified of my privacy being invaded
No say at all how or when I choose to sleep or sit stand or walk and being allowed to breath the fresh air.
My mind is sick but I should be allowed to live my last days as if it were my last .
not  vanish into thin air
Nigdaw Sep 2019
Inside this scaled down life
We move like goldfish
The pretence of an ocean
In four small rooms.
So many other lives swim
Within the same space
One upon another
Surrounded by the din
Of each other and the world
Passing by.


Is it any wonder
We have become insane
Looking for ways out
Expression through graffiti
Escape through drugs
Destroying the symmetry
Of our own environment
To mimic the bounty of nature
Destroying each other, for peace
And a chance to sleep alone.
Poetress2 Apr 2019
Ants work together,
to gather food for their homes.
They could teach us much!
Arcassin B Jan 2019
By Arcassin Burnham

Soul Searching, Earth lurking,
Just mind your business , we're over here,
Bird chirping, commenting,
Keep talking **** , we can not hear,
This house , ain't a home in my eyes, there's so much to
Be discussed.

Not taking too much from the fort,
I gotta hold it down,
I plan to place this little heart in a jar for my
safe keeping.

Losing my lil sanity and calcifying fear away,
Too much to bare in this pile of flesh that I
could not be in this place, turn day to night
with just a flick, there is no escape...

Take a picture,
Make it last,
Might be your last to be on this earth,
Don't a menace,
Don't be in your feelings,
Worrying too much , they put aside their dealings,
Way too much healing.

Because I'm Losing my lil sanity and calcifying fear away,
Too much to bare in this pile of flesh that I
could not be in this place, turn day to night
with just a flick, there is no escape.
©abpoetry2019

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2019/01/aint-home.html
Marilyn Heavens Oct 2018
Tsunami came from nowhere,
Mother nature called aloud
Bringing with it only sin,
Bearing devastating sacrifice
and death to all and kin.
Reality hit home within the first few hours,
As news came through the world soon new
It seemed the earth had cracked in two
Now our world is flawed with devastation
Death, pain, and desolation
We pray for those who died
And feel for those in pain
Our people’s lives were taken when that brutal mother came
This mother came from nowhere upon the highest wave
Bringing in destruction, death and devastation,
Loss, horror, and hopeless apprehension.
These words cannot portray our feeling of dismay
Our minds in fear as we shed a tear
For those whose lost and those who suffer
Awaiting news or searching through the thousands.
Undignified, coming to terms with loss of those who once loved but now no longer.
Mother Nature played her part so viciously,
Leaving just a simple question…why.
Today I pray alone, but I know I am not alone for the entire world will pray with me.
Oskar Erikson Jun 2018
i didn't expect to fall
as far as this.
landing feet first
into stifling silence
i never thought to learn how to swim by myself.
i will never know how to heal with you by my side.
i will stand at the precipice of my staircase
and watch the waves lap at the cliff edge.
Lu Lu Jun 2018
I... was a home.
You made a garden of my heart with which you buried the seeds of your loneliness until the roots clung around my throat and strangled me.
You made a scarf of our happy memories to hide the bruise.
You made a bed of my kindness and slept in it until I had no more kindness left for myself.
You made a spring of my tears and I cried for you until I cried for me until I couldn’t cry anymore until you gave me a glass of water like filing up a coffee *** in the morning.

I was a home.

You made a pantry of my love and put every word I said when I was drunk and when I was mad into the top shelf like liability insurance.
You made a kitchen of my love and cooked every nice thing I ever said to satiate some insecurity and we were ok until we were not ok and back round you came like what we had was never enough. Like I was never enough.
You made a mirror of my forgiveness and looked deep into it every day before going to work,
You made a shower of my apologies and washed yourself clean every time you told me it was my fault, always my fault, forever my fault until I believed it was never your fault,
You made a sink of my esteem and poured my confidence down the drain.

I was a home.
Until I was not a home anymore.
I became so much more.

I made a sword of your broken promises and cut myself free,
I made shield of my disillusionment and pushed your lies away,
I made a suit of armor from my pain and went to battle to save myself.   

I made a scepter of my conviction and erected a fortress of forgiveness sans forgetfulness,
I made a throne of glittering hope and gripped the armrests a little too tightly,
I made a crown of my recovery and held my head high,

I became a queen to remind myself that people are not homes
and I am my own person.

I was the face you only see on one side of the coin
I was a weary labyrinth of shadows and suspicion
I was a desolate throne and icicle toes

I was the moth bitten ball gown in the back of the closet
I was the glass slipper of fragile strength
I was a solitary stained glass window longing for the sun's rays.

Loneliness pervades through the thickets of walls.
Mother Nature heeds such a call.

She made two hands of old bark and held me tight,
She made calm whispers of warm breezes and told me about freedom,
She made a blanket of moss and my walls crumbled to dust.

She made a pool of starlight and scrubbed me until I sparkled,
She made a dress of ivy that tickled my collarbones,
She made bands of rust and bone that rested daintily over my scars.

She broke me down and built me up
until I was not a fortress any more,
I became so much more.

I am the wind that rustles leaves in the summer,
I am the rain that hides people’s tears,
I am the tender breeze that caresses cheeks,
I am the trade winds that fill great billowing hopes,
I am the storm that breathes thunder and lightning under another’s touch.
 
I am the wet grass that makes legs itch,
I am the mist that makes damp uncomfortable,
I am a the windchill that makes crying miserable,
I am the gale that rips trees from their roots,
I am the river that carves into stone,
I am the hurricane that tears hearts apart.

Because people are not ******* buildings,
We are so much more than what were are told we can become.
A re-do of another poem
SelinaSharday Apr 2018
Today I worry even mo so..
Son I worry even more when you go out that door.
Mistaken identity.
Victim of false accused identity.
The Armed  who carry behaving like assasions.
with Armed badges.. Ganged up armed trained men with fear.
Claiming fear makes them killers of our unarmed souls.
Be it against petty theives.. or mistaken innocent individuals.
Community left to weep uncosolable tears and fears.
God bring my son/daughter home safe today.
I fear letting my children out to play.
I fear being in my home  where even cops bullets fly astray.
God is it gonna be a safe day.
I protested in the streets today.
I wept in my neighborhood.
I wept.. I weep. I wail.
uncontrollable.
The burden goes beyond my inner soul.
I'm not unbreakable till you console.
I fear who will be next to be tragically slain.
Only a moment a day in time fearing the pain.
Will I see my sister, my brother, my mother my loved one again.
Even though today I'm able to hold their hand.
Lord bring them home safe again.
I just don't knew when.
Mercilous killings will strike again.
By seriel killers..murderers, or armed men with badges.
We march we pray we protest we bury our youngs  ashes.
Let us anoit our heads with oil we have much to bear.
No matter our race, creed or culture.
We have to unite against these tragic things.
Be tired of hearing our community screams.
S..T..O..P. with the
slaying- tragedies -oppressive- power
stop slaying us by tragedies of oppresive power.
S-suffocating, Slaying, slandering.
T-tyranny-cruel and oppressive government or rule.
tragic events cause for tormoil.
O-Oppressive-unjustly inflicting hardship and constraint.
especially on a minority or other subordinate groups.
oppressive laws.
P-people under abuse of authority. Of unfair punishments.
The people are perishing. The people are being punished
with persecution and unjust prison terms.
S.T.O.P
this madness.
P.O.T.S.
we are
Protesting Over Tragic Slaying.
Of all forms.
Son on Today!
We Must Pray!
Even the more So..
Lets go!
by selinaSharday S.A.M 2018
When our sons and daughters are oppressed..when almost every branch of office and home of safety is threatened turned upside down. our communities..our homes our lives.. our country
Jenovah Dec 2016
You are the houses in suburban cul-de-sacs;
Polished, shiny marbled counter tops
Plush carpet on waxed, heavy wood floors
Collections of perfect china displayed in antique cabinets
Matching curtains to center pieces
Sparkling  champagne and spotless window panes.
»»-------------¤-------------««
While I am houses hidden in alley ways;
Worn kitchen tiles
Hand-me-down book cases
Collecting dust
Collecting memories in photos on a lone refrigerator
Every breath and sigh stowed in cracks beneath my feet
The whir of aged radiators producing heat.
»»-------------¤-------------««
We are houses whose outsides are structured accordingly
But inside, our unique personality resides.
luxe Feb 2018
I am tired of having a broken back
Dragged down by deadweights
Arms sore,
Trembling at the touch of an empty room
Bruised legs,
From a brief brushing of a desire.
All making the house of my very being
Built on top of that same broken back
Constructed with these very sore arms
The floors in this home creak,
No foundation
After the flood that wiped it all away.
Now that winter has settled in, it is all frozen.
I have burned the walls of my soul in the process of hope,
And while building this home,
I have been choked by the hands of trust
Strangled by the notion that we can live in the rooms of people,
Safe from the wind on a January night.
I wish I could say I have never broken my own heart,
That I have not wandered the halls of those who have left,
Searching for some secret key that would magically open some hidden corridor,
Bringing me back.
I will not pretend that I have not taken a spill on frozen glass,
And been engulfed by the warmth of a fireplace,
So mesmerized that I could not see the home around me disintegrating.
I have been held by the arms of those flames,
Caressed by a fall on ice,
That seemed like water at the time.
Making me blind to the fact that you can not have soothing water,
On a freezing day.
Drowning my rooms with empty words,
The same blindness that allowed the fire to swallow all that I was
I always assumed this fire could melt the ice.
But I kept them in separate closets,
Breaking the locks on the doors that my tired fingers placed on hinges.
Separating any possibility of a marriage of the two.
Because in these barren halls,
I am either burning hot, scorching passion of marked desire.
Or I am solid, dry-ice, painful to the touch
Sending out warning signs to leave,
Because why stay when the closest you can get is an arms length away.
I can not be both fire and ice.
But I will try.
Next page