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Yusuf 5m
Let us stay a little while,
midst the light and bloodied bile,
let us see what we can see
with our deceiving eyes.

The mother feeds their child,
and the scorching sun rises.
The lakes glisten like stars
and the birds sing again.

They're playing soccer.
And talking.
And having fun.
With eachother.

The plants move and twist,
and the tide ebbs and flows.
The grass is emerald.

They invite you in.
It just isn't for you.
If only it was.

The sky is an ocean of blue.
The birds fly like scattered sand.
  
You start doing your homework.

You like it.
You love it.
It's great.

It's fun.
It's so, so fun!
So fun...
that tears run down.

Yet your eyes are hollow.
Your head is full of soot.
Why?
I am drawn beyond repair,
My marbled pillars failing,
And every shallow breath I take—
The ticking of a worn-out watch,
Winding down
until it’s still.
It’s not death that harries me,
But the trifling cares of life—
Fissured webs
beneath my facade,
That weaken my weary frame,
Meant to support
this edifice.
The sleepless debts,
the silence,
Erode the stony structure,
Once defined by rigid lines,
Now smoothed by sandpaper winds,
Marring all former identity.
I cannot tell you how long
Before the coming crumble,
And I’m crushed
under the burden,
Pressing heavy
upon my mind.
Till nothing remains but
the gravel and bone,
of a starved poet.
©️2025
Everything is stagnant.
There’s no sound that flutters,
nor do shadows dance.
There’s no surge of dust
that was caught upon a breath
swirling, before drifting down.
Void of all emotion
or lingering dreams
to still a restless mind.
The walls keep their secrets
and silently observe
this nothing that lives.
Yet within this stillness,
something—almost like a breath—
faintly stirs this static space.
Not quite a presence,
nor a memory,
and yet felt
in the silence,
as if it watches me.
And a pulse, soft and nameless,
crawls dreadfully up my spine
to whisper in my ear
that I am—

alone.

Then, the dust settles.
@2025
Crossing the ocean of endless stars
Will you be there waiting for me,
Or do I have to still my heart
And antagonize the entire nature of my character.

Opened feelings, no fear at all
I took out the deepest part of me
And bathed in your light,
Only for you to shove me back into the endless ocean of void.

It was the scent of the sea that opened the memory,
Where sunlight blurred my vision, and I saw you
Tall, dark hair, eyes that charm,
And a smile that negated everything wrong in my world.

I wish the story wouldn't end.
I have to walk back into the cairn of insecure souls,
Wandering aimlessly, pondering what they did wrong
In this life or the next.

I dream of escape, of finally leaving the void behind.
Written from within my own void of helplessness
Maryann I Apr 29
Step in—
my mind is an ocean
not blue—but a bleeding iridescence
of molten violets, rusted golds,
and bruised, unraveling ceruleans—
a palette spilled by a god having a dream.

You’ll see thoughts float here
like jellyfish lanterns,
soft, slow—laced in venom or velvet—
depending on how you look.

The sky never ends in here.
It folds like cracked parchment,
stretched over the aching arch
of my imagination’s bones.

There are trees made of bone-white whispers
and flowers with petals like flame-licked lace.
They bloom to the rhythm
of my pulse when I’m panicking,
and wilt under the weight
of a silence I can’t swallow.

There’s a path—
etched in the ink of dreams I didn’t chase—
it winds through forests of
regret-shaped branches
that scratch and caress all at once.

If you look to the left—
you’ll see a lake
made of every word I’ve never said.
It shimmers,
but only under the moon
of someone else’s approval.

Birds here don’t fly,
they unravel.
Each feather a fractured metaphor,
each call a dirge sewn with sunlight.

I hide in corners lit by memory—
a field of crooked constellations,
each one a version of me
you’ll never meet,
but will almost understand.

If you stay too long,
you’ll forget your name,
start to speak in echoes,
and dream in static.
But maybe that’s the point.
Maybe that’s the way
to really see me.
My shape is a puzzle of shattered light,
From a darkness beyond the hands of clocks.
I've floated in crystalline tears through nights,
That drowned my pulse in their quantum shocks.

Once I'd kissed the rim of my own dissolution,
My dreams became ether suspended in place.
Heard echoes from heaven of my soul's exclusion,
Banished to blackness, forbidden from grace.

But my system of nerves, interstellar threads,
Each signal, a hope that I'd lost in the fire.
They reshape the grid of my own waking dread.
I was Disconnected. My perception, unwired.

My atoms, ensnared in this love unaligned.
The flux of euphoria then glitched the code.
Chased every god who tread through my mind.
As my belief in them began to implode.

I transcended fast as a Tachyon verve,
Connecting dimensions with chords of my ache.
My being, potentialized, now unobserved.
As moments of reality shown to me, faked.

With every tremor that left a deep scar,
Is a power evolving my mind, kinetic.
I arrive in the void passed the brightest of stars.
As high, pathetically, as the hypothetic.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦  
"The Quantum Bound Poet "
Mia Apr 27
Oh Darling, Oh Daisy
As pretty as a pink peony,
Yet, your petals are wilting, dear,
Stems a little frail, wracked.

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
As sharp as a red rosy,
Yet, don’t they see, dearest,
Thorns tracing those fragile strands?

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
As sweet as a light *****,
Yet, don’t they see, dear?
Tears slipping, draping a silk on your chest.

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
As clever as late Nancy,
Yet, is your nectar still
Sweet as hot honey

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
Ask of the flies, just once, dear,
Do they taste the bright red
Of copper candy?

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
As graceful as old lacy
Do you dance, dear,
To the screams that hum a melody?

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
As naive as a little daisy,
Are you certain what awaits you?
Dear Daisy.
This poem is inspiried by the song Lacy by O.R though the themes are different I love the repetition she used to create a poem of my own
Reece Apr 24
I have some penultimate words to say,
Some final thoughts to escape my brain,
So, for a final time,
I’ll give you a piece of my mind.

Sometimes the subtleties pass us by,
The simple things of daily life,
While we complain about the mundane,
We forget the blessings right in front of our eyes.
From the birds who sing in the trees,
To the blooming flowers, pollinated by the bees.
All of these,
Help us see how pretty life can be.

I’ve learned some lessons over this year,
Those lessons I’ll take to heart,
Like sometimes “friends” leave you behind,
And it’s okay to hurt, but not to break apart.
Most people follow the crowd,
And that’s fine with me,
I’ll follow my own path,
To be renowned.

I firmly believe that each life is a story,
One worth reading,
Good, bad, or ugly,
There’s a lesson to be learned,
And you can think critically,
As the pages are turned.
After all, no one wants to be forgotten,
Or perhaps, some do,
I find that a tragic fate,
True doom.

It’s time again,
To quote a song by Alec Benjamin,
This one being my favorite,
Titled “I’m Not A Cynic.”
“I’m not a cynic, but today’s just not my day,
I’ve tried to spin it about a thousand different ways,
But from every angle, oh, the outcome is the same,
I swear that I’m not a cynic; my glass just has no water in it today.”
This one holds dear to me,
Because sometimes my sky is gray,
That doesn’t mean I’m a downer,
It just depends on the day.
I know my mood is mine to control,
But faking is a poison.
It’s okay to let the emotions flow,
I find it a positive notion.

This year has been a journey,
Far more challenging than the last,
I started off in the clouds,
Now I’m stranded in the past.
Friends have moved on,
Or perhaps, I pushed them away.
Who knows who I’ll be,
Junior year, on the first day?
I know life is a bunch of doors,
But a problem arises,
If you’re not willing,
To take a step.
However, if everyone stood still,
Life would be rather boring,
Wouldn’t it?
So I’ll take a step onto the water,
Hoping I don’t fall through,
Praying I won’t fall through.
Then I’ll take another,
Perhaps, it’ll be easier,
Than the first.
Before I know it, I’ll be walking,
Then running, to sprinting,
Clinging desperately,
To anything that I can take with me.
I clasp my hands on the doorknob,
And open it with haste,
And step through with a smile,
Not regretting a thing.
Though bittersweet nostalgia,
Might try its best to blind,
I’ll make better memories,
To shield my watery eyes.
Years down the road,
Wherever I may be,
Hopefully I’d found,
Some sense of security.
I’ll look back with pride,
At my sixteen-year-old self,
And applaud my bravery,
To take the first step.

Near the end of April,
And sophomore year is nearly down the drain,
I think overall,
I’m in a better place.
Ups and downs littered the road,
But I swerved and curved,
And through these poems,
I lightened the load.
Another thing ends tonight,
Sitting here as I write,
The conclusion to the final,
The final piece of my mind.

Wherever the road may lead next,
No matter how far or how scary,
I’ll follow it and reflect,
And make it to my ending.
The end of this little series. I appreciate all of you who have read all four! It means a lot!
I saw road **** tonight.

I was walking
on the side walk
towards home
with a buddy of mine
and he pointed it out
"Look at that
poor thing,
what is it?"

I walked
into the middle of the road
just to inspect it further.
a coat of brown spikes,
white fur, and —
bright red guts.
Fresh.

It was a hedgehog
on the spotlight
given by street lamps.
Judging by the size of the coat
it was big and fat
it reminded me
of the one I have at home.

It also made me think
of Jeffery Dahmer
what he did with road ****
and where that lead.
I'm not saying that I feel that way
but the guts were shiny
under the Moonlight
I thought that they
had this certain kind of beauty.
A dead rat
and life goes on
like nothing ever mattered.

My friend was upset
about it.
"The **** who did this
probably did it on porpuse!"

I wasn't. I was raised in a farm
I've seen worse.
"Dude,
he probably
didn't even see it
coming."

Neither of them did.

If you don't get my point,
Picture this:
One day you're walking home
with groceries
you're not paying atention
you cross the road
and there it comes
lights flashing
coming your way
no time to react —
THUMP.

You're on the floor
bleeding out.

Jesus hugged you
with that license plate
and you didn't realize it.

Anyways,
The car backs up,
turns right,
it rushes out of there.
Hit and run.
Behind the wheel?
A ******* hedgehog.

That's the beauty of it.

Life just happens
it owes you nothing
yet you think that
it owes you—
your life.
PERTINAX Apr 6
We all stumble through life
Lost on winding trails
Disconnected from the destination
Which pulls the soul
Down a path barren of beauty
Where downed trees create barriers
Roadblocks which lead to detours
Into the rugged wilderness
A trial that tests the mind with adversity
Begging the body to halt its course
To cool the crucible that has bled
Molten rivers carving ruts
Into an endless circle
Leaving us lost and out of breath
Desperate to pause and recover
The stamina wasted in a maze
Of our own creation
...
Until finally, a beam of light
Breaks through the dense canopy
Proffering warmth, peace, and solitude
Beckoning a return to the tracks
Worn by the forgotten footsteps
Of a different time
Too distant to elicit recollection
Yet somehow familiar and welcoming
For those seeking the forbidden happiness
That we have trapped within a sadness
Foreign to the natural nature
We had suppressed in order to feel free
...
Long have I sought the trail I thought lost
Turns out, all I needed to do was turn around
And remember I am not alone
Just simply facing the wrong direction
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