Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
At first I thought I was born to succeed,
Which was good and great because I lack luster for greed
To give and to cherish was largely my creed,
Life blooms everywhere so why covet its seed?
For shame and for glory, my truth was a story.

  A story, not a fable, one with use in its cradle
No. Not my truth, my feeble fiction. That to give and to gain was no contradiction.

With strong head and strong body I’ve wasted my days,
To think beau intention wouldn’t lead me astray.

You see I’ve done all I could in the space of this mind,
To unravel the hope to create world’s in kind.

Eureka! I had it, for one second’s perception,
A prospect in favour of catastrophic direction.

Though its gone I still taste it, like the vacuum in glass,
My pious mis-deception that my chance has not passed.
Some day it'll be the day
Sally A Bayan Mar 2019
1:00 am, 3:00 am ... most nights,
thirty minutes without warning,
restless air, chokes the pipes
when controlled, it explodes in bits
of yellow, orange , dark red and gray
skull seems to crack ... or , is it breaking now?
a darkness follows a wheezing,
desiring to spew all malaise  
expelling bad air, while chasing fresh air
praying a stillness soon rules .... . but , no,
the painful exertion persists
that  disturbing noise just goes on,
and racks one's whole being ... one's world
every rib quivers ... every fiber throbs  
eyes and veins start to bulge
as if to burst on their own...

,, ,, , for a while, a calm occurs ... yet ,
another dreaded episode lurks...

on a dark, restless night such as this,
one can only imagine
~ ~ ~ the undulating waves ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ and the blue waters ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ of the tranquil sea ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 20, 2019

#dreaded episodes  #malaise  #severe cough
Slime-God Dec 2018
Pigment of the evening
overwhelming, by thought
artfully winding, and weaving,
for naught.
Though your vision is endless
your colour needs work,
it’s drab, unto darkness,
your pallet’s berserk.

You must change;

You must change how you’re feeling.
From bottom to ceiling,
I swear that you’re healing.
Disregard the unfeeling,
forget that you’re reeling.
Do not be caught kneeling
in thoughts now congealing-
to naught-
but the pealing-
of bells;

Or be lost.

Not to life,
but to cause.
Draped in strife,
trapped in was.
this one ended sooner than I had intended.
Slime-God Nov 2018
I am waiting to die
as I sit here staring,
blind, and uncaring
I am waiting to die.

For I once had dreamed
of a world where it seemed
that someone like me had a future;
I don’t

Though not for my failings
but simply for boredom-
as my mind is ailing
I pray for post-mortem.
Nick Stiltner Feb 2018
Eyes daze, pseudo-malaise,
The soft lament of wasted days.
Whatever needs be done be done,
As long as none insist on clearing
My veiling haze.

Dim those lights, turn down the sounds
My mind becomes crowded,
Elbows bruising.

The further pushed from,
The deeper pushed in.
Raised voices and wagging fingers
Have no effect but a
Deeper shove to the depths.

Firm hands held haughtily between strangers
A meeting with the spirit lost
To the deep end of the well,
The cracks in bone show age
Lux Falls Feb 2018
The darkness warms me
A thick liquid covering my skin
engulfing every pore
Drowning all of my sins.

I couldn’t tell you what wings feel like
Or what a smile does to my face
I did it once and it felt foreign
But the wind swept it away
To float off as particles into the sky.

I laughed, it might have been yesterday
or a season ago
It didn’t penetrate into my soul
Nor did it let me inhale any pure light
Humans find it addictive
That bright drug.
It hides itself
Better of late
That old companion
In my shadow
That perpetual  
Creeping malaise
Coiling inside my brain

Never springing
Only cr  e      e p             i n g




Logic and common sense.
A lord of fear
Undermining mental
Immune systems
Playing my emotions

Like a violin concerto–
Devil's chord

Out of tune socially    

But then I see her
In her vulnerable position
That sweet  

        Innocent child/woman
Who props up my remains
Who takes me back
To simpler times
And youthful joys

When the hooded cobra
Was in embryonic form.
This one constant in my life
Keeps the cobra at bay

But it waits just outside the camp
Taunting me
Whispering just low enough
So I can't make out what
It is saying.

But how can one make out hissing?!

When you were always told
That you are fine
Nothing's wrong
Maybe a little neurotic sometimes

What can you do
Be reduced to a catatonic state?
Where can you hide but in your shadow?

                --Daniel Irwin Tucker
Lux Falls Apr 2017
Every night
Every smile you inflict me with
Takes another part of my heart
And everyday
Starts the same
I wake up dazed and aching
A numbed hurt and a little insane
Feeling a burn in my feet and a hole where my heart was
I stumble out and find myself following you
To the edges of the earth
Running to you
While you barely recognise
That I'm someone
Just in your rear view
Next page