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Graff1980 Mar 2017
If it is a race, then the pace of one set of clouds out does the ones that float above lazily. Smokey dragons cut across Odin’s one good godly eye. The night pursues its cold cool wind muse,
and I cannot lose, because I use this muse so well. I walk the building corner to brick corner unwilling to enter the unyielding nightmare hallways. I do not wish to walk in the white hollow echo chambers, alone and uninspired while the night spirals in lunar delight. I postpone it as long as I can, walking the yellow concrete corners like they are tight high wire. I swerve and struggle to maintain my perfect position, for fear of falling into the black top lava pit. The inside world waits for me like a ravenous beast. Please oh please do not force me to leave the light breeze that brushes my skin gently. Glass and metal doors see me swallowed whole. I did not want to go but now I know this white washed world will be my graveyard fantasy. The red buds on the tree beckon me, but I cannot go back out. The musical clank of metal clips that hang the flags summons me beyond the security doors with their dangerous whipping movements, but I am not allow to explore such freedom. The strangers of varying degrees, shapes, weights, skin tints, hair, and teeth beckons me to question their history. I cannot go out there to the fantastic. No that is a lie. I could if I tried, but I chose to hide in a secure hourly wage paid life. I could leave and let my wanderlust take me where it will. I could go back to Pleasantville, Champaign, Williamsville, Pontiac, Mt. Vernon, and Danville, then go see places I have never been. I could give in to the seductive siren call of landscapes unseen, sounds unheard, and strangers not yet met. Instead I sign my time sheet, walk and repeat, securing nothing. I drive home tired and come back and repeat that as well. I accept the mundane. It is a part of the price I pay for a slice of peace.
Nathan Oct 2016
A Glistened blade with the serrated edge. Lays down on the floor christened with crimson. The limp but clinging to life hand dangles over the edge of the single bed.

Sobbing is heard from the bed, laying face down is our victim of self disgust and loathing.

Our victim

I wish I could lie to you guys and say this was fantasy some messed up image of my imagination but this is real my friends. I hope you don't have to suffer with what I do. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
ForeverNo-One Aug 2016
it all started in year 5
we dated and 3 weeks later we broke up
life went on, we went to secondary school,
at first, it was the same one, then i moved away
i got a new crush, an impossible crush,
a few weeks after my later fantasy left my life,
my ex walked into my dreams.
i fell in love all over again
every time i think of him, my heart and chest aches
every time i think of my latest, my breath catches in my throat.
when i see him, my stomach flips yet nothing happens when i see my ex.
who am i falling for?
this is absolutely true, i chose not to express the names of my crush and ex for reasons of innocence please comment on what to do, as i really am stuck.
Kagey Sage Oct 2015
I almost died when I was in the 5th grade
I struggled to lift my baby sister up
My mom couldn't even do it
We woke up cause she started crying
and I threw up, everyone kept throwing up
My father slurred his speech
said we all caught the flu
and we all slept in the living room
Till my brother came out and said
we gotta get out,  now
So thankful he slept with the door closed
He drove the minivan, 15 years old
off to grandma's house
Got a blood test done
cause even the dog was blowing chunks

Please check your
myrrh Jun 2015
If I'm wrong about God
I've wasted my own life

If you're wrong about God
You've wasted your whole eternity

Amen, Bless you, I love thee
You are the one who guides me
Whether you're fiction or non-fiction
You have given thy a direction
Ever since I was growing up
I've been walking a rocky path
Each long night wouldn't be the first
Nor would it be the last

Now this is something most of the time
I've only felt in my heart
But never before did I feel it straight
Until one cold hike in the dark

I got spikes in the grass
Mud on my shoes
Blood on my hands
But nothing to lose
Skin full of needles
Head full of hope
Time to get back on the ***** (I hope)

Ever since I was a college boy
My monochrome scarf from France
Accompanied me on the bleakest of days
Though I guess it wasn't meant to last

Because I got spikes in the grass
Mud on my shoes
Blood on my hands
But nothing to lose
Skin full of needles
Head full of hope
Time to get back on the *****
I wrote this poem after falling into a thorn bush and getting myself out at the cost of my favourite capped beanie and Paris scarf.


© Jordan Dean "Mystery" Ezekude
Foul-mouthed parkers
Young and grown alike
Made for a productive day
A troublesome night

The residents to my right
Slandered behind me in fear
And that is when I cracked wide
Into a body of screams and tears

I cried
'Stop! Stop!'
'I can't take any more!'
My heart turning to glass
'I just want to be left alone!'
'Is that too much to ask!?'

This tragedy may not have been
If I had simply smiled their way
But all I did was drown them out
Until this fateful day

Little did I know
That they were watching me all year
Trying to find a way
To console me and my fears

But not once did I wish them well
Or turn to them for help
And so I brought this crushing ordeal
Entirely upon myself

And I cried
'Stop! Stop!'
'I can't take any more!'
My heart turning to glass
'I just want to be left alone!'
'Is that too much to ask!?'

This tragedy may not have been
If I had simply smiled their way
But all I did was drown them out
Until this fateful day

Then they held my hand
And reassured me on their knees
That they have someone dear to them
With the same troubles as me

Still this tragedy may not have been
If I had simply smiled their way
But all I did was drown them out
Until this fateful day
This may be my most emotional poem yet as it is based on a recent ordeal that befell upon me just a few hours ago; my first emotional breakdown since last year.

Feeling isolated by the delinquencies in my town as well as overhearing hurtful slander from my concerned next-door neighbors (what I perceived to be verbal threats of violence behind my back), I refused to take any more. I opened my front door screaming and tearfully begging them to stop talking about me and leave me alone forever.

This may never have happened if I had just been willing to trust them even the slightest. But I didn't trust them at all. Instead, I remained bitter and distrusting towards them thus bringing this ordeal upon myself.

Shortly after my first emotional outburst in a long time, one of the neighbors (a kind and understanding woman) knelt down on my doorstep to comfort and reassure me.

She informed me that she was hoping to find a way to comfort me ever since I moved in near them last year. All they wanted was for me to feel happy and safe living next door to her. But all I did up until now was push her and her family away from me.

She reassured me saying that she had a nephew with troubles similar to mine. More importantly, she promised that she and her family would genuinely mean me no harm as long as I trusted them from hereon in.

And so, after what seemed like a whole hour of total relapse, I finally agreed to trust them. Nothing may change significantly overnight, but I'll do my best to trust my neighbors from now on.


© Jordan Dean "Mystery" Ezekude
They say that all is fair in love and war
But is all fair in the war of love?
Is there temperance amidst the virile and the delicate?
Or is it just a guise shielding us from the bitter truths of love?

Dear brother of mine
Bold lawman in the making
Had a young sweetheart years apart

He was climbing up fast
With the promise of a bright future
And she would only be the start

But two summer days
Of ecstasy and pleasure
Were all it took in the name of time

For the young sweetheart
With his heart on a hook
To tear apart the cord of his precious spine

Now his reputation, his hopes, his dreams are on the line
Because of a young heart whose blood was replaced with slime
How can this happen to a man of pure heart and mind?
Such a burden to my dear brother will never be a friend of mine
Based on a recent tragedy a few hundred miles from my hometown.


© Jordan Dean "Mystery" Ezekude
alessandra Jun 2014
a trembling reaction
to every way you fought to keep my hands in yours
a fickle name to how your eyelids only leaked promises
and how i only ever met your lips with broken glass
you tried to pry the answers from my cigarette but you forgot that I buried your baby teeth in the backyard last summer
one, two,
count my fingers out the window like your swans almost in flight
every creature passed under your embrace learned how to curve their wings up like forged protection
from your spitfire

our teeth leak venom and motor oil, it tastes like how your fists feel against your children's skin
when you wrap the women in chains made of expensive gifts and shattered promises, sometimes they clean their teeth and fight back.

maybe i won't remember to draw the curtains after you leave

but i'll always leave a key under your pillow.
June 3rd, 2014
Michael LoMonaco Apr 2014
In the moment of present day bliss,
We wonder if the next day will still offer wealth,
Hoping that tomorrow can still possess gold.

The journey to good fortune is an unpredictable path,
Like rolling dice in a game of chance.

The future holds no guarantees,
Leaving tomorrow a mystified puzzle.

Forget about the mystery of the unknown.

Instead, move with the currents of the ocean—
Continuing in stride with each flow.
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