GuiseOfALoner Jul 2016
Is there a way
to play the game of love?
Are there tricks
to treat it differently?

Is there a way
to be unbroken?
Can I defy gravity
to not fall so easily?

Is there a way
to play it safe?
Is there a way to guard
these feelings of mine forever?

Is there a way to love
without hurting?
Is there a way to move on
without crying?
Peanut Aug 2015
This
World
Is
A
Bittersweet
Reminder
Of
Us
Not
Living
Together

:­/
I hate the version of this world
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Tis foolish is it not not?

How a man shalt get his kicks off some strange woman on a magazine cover
Yet whilst at the same time

There's a model right next to him!!!!
Men see your woman as a queen stop put the magazine and nasty vids down!! And see the queen and model next to you!!
brandon nagley Jun 2015
I was standing at her door knocking

(Knock) (knock)
(Knock) (knock)

Who's there,
She whispered

Tis me,

Me who she said

Tis thy amour'
Now open thy door!!!

(Her) Go away I dont need thou no more!!!

As I walked away Soo distraught
So emptied handed!!!

As everything made Soo much sense,
Until I lost mi amour'
brandon nagley Jun 2015
I do not,
Let me repeat,
Do not seeketh a (live-in) roommate as the world hast created,
I seeketh a soulmate,
A queen
One of ethreal belated..
One to whom to be related in marital stature!!!

For these ending times
Everyone's a roomie
Living with one, yet being strangers in their mist!!!
Get the gist?
Reader of so called loving words...

I seeketh not to be under the same cupola,
To only be one's guest!!!!
I seeketh a domain,
One of endless nest!!!!

Not as thou oh world!!!!!

Forgot love didst thou oh stranger?
Raw truth about lovers these days!!! Lots of you write love poems on here! Though doth thou know love? Would thou walk for it? A mile ? Two? Ten? Or drive or fly for it across your globe? Everyone well lots these days live in a palace under a roof where thy own lover you've forgotten! You are to busy with materials! Your phone! Technology addicted!!! Threw out your wife husband or bf or gf!!!and has forgotten to let god guide you both to be as one!!to many these days as poem said are live in roommates!end quote!! You have lost yourself and lost them to.. And two people who lost themselves can't find eachother in the middle road because technology and self wants desires and lusts has blinded one!!!! If you are in love or with a lover!! Push the roommate nonsense aside and become a soulmate!! As one I seeketh!! I seek not to be a presence or guest in ones home!! I seek to be ones apple of their eye!!not the phone in front of them to be their apple!!! We'll if this makes sense hope you like!!! Just truth!!! Wake up!! And one more ? For you! Would you die for that love? As the verse goes the greatest love one can give is to lay down their life for another? Now would you!?!!
Martin Narrod May 2014
we take a breath
I have a smoke
thank you for giving me your cold
you rub the menthol on my chest
I hold the camphor to my breast
sometimes all it takes is just a jacket button to break.

10 minutes on they'll drink champagne
and have their fun with party games
everybody yelling "cheese"
10 minutes from a third-world country
in the shadow of the rock
they don't have anyone that'll help
there isn't garbage on the ground
its the street that makes up the whole town

I know you don't even want to talk
You won't even take my calls}
After three years on and off
I would do anything at all.
Have the child of my blood
Then with blood I'd have enough.
Just a picture fairy tale
For a man with a cold and betrayed.
*Inspired by the aboriginal lives of the indigenous peoples of Ayer's Rock.
Martin Narrod May 2014
Gold crown of Olympus, hair crown and
Skin gown. First we throw our bodies at
One another. Heaping piles of human soup.
Bold maneuvers, hands and mouths and
Boy meets girl lying down, on top, intertwined.
Skittish moves on a tryst. Wet fingers of freshly
Tendered infinite decibel pleasure screams.
Streamers above a long rooting movement.

Overture of Aphrodite. Sparkling, glitter woman,
Legs pressed tightly to the chest,
Loose appendages intertwined. Intersticed dactyls
In rapture, soothing. Bodies build to one heart's beat.
Two muses fused together. If I wasn't afraid I'd wake you up
I'd slip on my shoes and make a tropical fruit fondue.

Stage two:

Ice cream lover's delight. Opus to brown sugar.
To swimming again, a pursed lurking of lips
In the academy of the pastoral commonwealth.
We eat at our stations of the sublime. Today which was
A day of discord- you nursed me back to the land of the living.

Stage three:

Sex.

Stage four.

Sex.

Stage five:

As we earn our pageantry to take
Stride on this Earth, and string a
Great bow of eager success among all of us,
You, me, them. While I continue to
Gaze at you. If not dinner, perhaps a
Cup of tea instead.
Martin Narrod May 2014
Hallucinating Bureaucracies and auditory Hallucinations : When the voice in your head speaks when you don't want it to, to head's of State not present. I could snuggle in bed if I wanted to, but I've got to orchestrate and reorganize the Clinton dowry. It started outright with trying on a purple, yellow, and blue button down shirt that had Scabies in the sleeve- and now you're all going to know why Mr. and Mrs. Obama don't want to talk to me about potentially increasing livestock traffic across the Americas. I think could practice will follow from such a manure, I mean maneuver. I pick up 10 or so bottles of plastic single-serve water for consumption in my apartheid room. It's awful in here. The gold disappears from the mines, and even the hands I used to work with are blurring up in the twister, and as much as you call or don't call I have no business managing your intentions- only mine. Some barrge of women over thirty. But still there isn't a problem. The river is beginning to flood, and the fishery's stockpile is running low. Maybe we ought to empty out an African mass grave and fill it with blacklists of co-conspirators and then make a drake or a flume out of the narrow walkways between the cities. Then maybe we'll have water to last us through the dry season.----------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------- Where in the world is Sam in Hammond, Can Diego? Forklifting pillars, bribing monkeys, playing with his Mickey Mouse and Michelob, catching the taller, eighteen and up crowd catch the last car riding the rapid drop from Space Mountain through, "It's a Small World After All:"  

It's a world of laughter a world of tears, it's a world of hopes and a world of fears. There's so much that we share, that it's time we're aware- it's a small world after all."  

And then he takes the biggest gulp of water into his mouth that I've ever seen the man take, and he puts it in a small cooler that's strapped to the back of his calf, and he swears to me that the aeroplanes are going to come loop around, and when they do their glorious water-landing, he and I, or rather, the both of us, will be saved. Saved, hm? I don't even bother sharing insights or my insides. I quickly flash him the most-pod horrific a tryst that irons down a photo of Egon and I back in the Old City, what was it, Chicago, or something that very much sounded like Chicago. Could be totally awesome and I'll chime in that now is the time when we do our work best. That's all. Intrepid,
Martin Narrod May 2014
He weeps his heart, and hangs his head,
He doubles back, and follows her back to bed,
She says, " Some homes are towns and lives, while others wear their homes inside." And he keeps up though he's kept out, the volatile, the sudden frown.
She makes up the cupcakes but they're never vegan are they? No they're never vegan are they?

He makes a gift, and wrings his thumbs, the bubble bath, the tepid tub,
Outside where the rains have gone long, something gives him something strong,
And he picks up where he had left off, the trouble is he doesn't know when to back off, and the cupcakes aren't vegan, sweet and such spectacular, but they really aren't eaten, now that they've been made with eggs. No the cupcakes aren't vegan, though they are quite delicious. And he loves her forever, though he never eats again. No he never eats again. No he never eats again.
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
When my heart beats black inside my chest, and the days I have are filled with death, and the girls I know won't walk with me, then I have my choice in misery. All the birds have died, and the plains are dry, the skyscrapers aren't lit up at night, and the city's sound sounds like nothing, then I have my choice in suffering. People talk a lot, but they hardly speak, all their voices creak in the summer streets, everybody walks but they're not moving, I try to only observe but then I start screaming.

I fucking hate the way that you look at me, your skin's so fucking clean that it feels dirty, your eyes move around but you're not seeing, the way I hurt each day but you say nothing. If I tried to leave you might be happy, so I sit and be and go out at night and cheat. I would break your heart, but it hardly beats. You're my walking dead, my darling zombie.

Each day is second rate, I bore so easily. It's like the day we met ended your pleasantry. I startle all the time, you seem so unaware. I chose you number one, you chose to not even care.

I caressed you once, and undressed you thrice, you abandoned me in the middle of the night. All the time I halved, you had your own account, of every thing we did, it wasn't the right amount. Now I hardly care about the drugs you're on. I'm quoting blasphemy out of every psalm. Even the words I write don't tell half of the truth, about the way I felt chasing after you.
Written for Britni West
Next page