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Michael R Burch Mar 2020
In this Ordinary Swoon
by Michael R. Burch

In this ordinary swoon
as I pass from life to death,
I feel no heat from the cold, pale moon;
I feel no sympathy for breath.

Who I am and why I came,
I do not know; nor does it matter.
The end of every man’s the same
and every god’s as mad as a hatter.

I do not fear the letting go;
I only fear the clinging on
to hope when there’s no hope, although
I lift my face to the blazing sun

and feel the greater intensity
of the wilder inferno within me.

Keywords/Tags: swoon, life, death, ordinary, commonplace, usual, average, mediocre, inferno, intensity, passion, cool, cold, pale, moon, blazing, sun
Emi Apr 2019
Dizzy feeling
Staring at the ceiling
Cool and white
Could it feel my spite
Try to Speak
Words come out so bleak
Running for the door
Both feet escape the cold floor
Fresh air
To keep me from ripping out my hair
Breathing begins to quicken
I’m starting to feel sick and
Helpless once again
Go outside
Trying to hide
In the moonlight
No happiness in sight
Climbing into the pool
Feeling like such a fool
Cool, yet warm water surrounds me
I think of the sea
Begging for an answer
To stop being such a hopeless romancer
Needing a sign
Before deciding it’s time
To give it all away
No one left to beg me to stay
Needing a sign
This can’t be my time
This can’t be my last day
A shooting star says stay
I do
Didn’t have a clue
I stayed
Another part from my memoir for school.
bymslu Feb 2019
thanks to the basketful of maybe's
i collected
when we were one
it would seem
i'd be well equipped to deal
with the next one's indecisiveness

oh well.
Ian Robinson Jan 2019
I call out
To a shallow cave
And in return
I get a shallow reply
Em MacKenzie Nov 2018
I read a disturbing truth someone questioned on the internet,
“the world didn’t end in 2012, but since then have you truly felt alive?”
I don’t wish to presume, but I would be more than willing to bet
that you feel the same, that you’ve fully lost your drive.
Marking calendars like clockwork, each box an imposing X,
but you’ve lost your absolute and essential favourite red pen.
We live as NPC’s but I’d like to believe we’re far more complex,
though we make the same mistake over and over again.

No sun burnt out, no moon fell,
but I swear the galaxy has changed,
we’re dazed and living under a spell,
our lifestyle’s completely deranged.
There was deviation from the reservation
that fate held out for us.
Abandoned salvation for sedation
the golden pastures have turned to dust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.

I know there’s growth in destruction
instead I loathe interruption.
Can silence be considered a confrontation?
I know there’s redemption in healing,
but I take each hit without showing feeling.
Can violence be considered mediation?
Decipher every word’s meaning
while performing spring cleaning
we’re all the same; we just want a good purge.
Ignoring every clear right sign
but complain about the fuzzy line
the one that’s crossed when you can’t resist the urge.

No sun burnt out, no stars died,
but the dimensions sure are blurring.
Auto pilot’s on and gravity’s been defied,
and no one sees this all occurring.
There was deviation from the reservation,
that fate held out for us.
I trade motivation for inebriation,
the golden pastures have turned to rust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.

Time isn’t so strong when you can break the clock
you know it’s possible to push back the hands.
For fate is chosen but destiny you can mock
from the deep seas to the hottest sands.
The past is already written
the ink is already dry.
The fire’s already been lit and
the flames are reaching towards the sky.
I’ve explored every emotional cave
and I’ve trekked through every lonely field.
When you’re scared it’s the only time you can be brave,
so grab your sword and don’t forget your shield.

No sun burnt out, no seas ran dry,
but the world suddenly stopped turning.
the world’s a game and life’s a lie,
but we must keep internal fires burning.
There was deviation from the reservation
that fate held out for us,
I replace meditation with self deprecation
the golden pastures I no longer trust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.
V liv Nov 2018
Yearning
to be something i'm not
to be someone i'm not
Artistic
what does that mean
does it mean I can articulate my feelings  
beautifully
does it mean I can sing
or dance
or rhyme
or cry
or read
or breathe
or love
beautifully?
I don't think I can
how sad
that i'm not artistic
how sad
V liv Nov 2018
If this car crashed right now
I would die
But the other people in this car don't deserve to die
If I were to jump out of this car right now
I would die
But the other people in this car don't deserve that guilt
So I sit
I stay in this car and I will be in this car for the rest of my mediocre life
- I'm good and I would never-
Isaac Aug 2018
I would choose to have
one really good friend
over of a thousand mediocre friends.
Written 31 August 2018

Proverbs 18:24
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