Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
sushii Jul 27
and in the words i find
no comfort as i crawl
away to my demise
sad eyes glued to a device

no poem in months
no one seemed to notice
that i missed out on the fun
and that i had nowhere to run

tags and labels
hoping i'll be noticed
but my attempts come to no avail
and my imagination has gone stale

romance is bleak
i'm not sure what to say
care is obsolete
love is incomplete

music is all i'm good for
and that's not even enough
so i sit here on the floor
begging them to shut the door

well, since there is no end in sight
maybe i will end this here
if i may and if you might
turn away if this gives you fright
We create lines
That seem to be tempting him

Whoever he may be

To cross
or leave you be

You plea with yourself,
Desperately

Begging that you’ll find the words
To make him see
That he’s one foot over
And a shoulder deep

But it’s not a matter
Of the words you choose
With perfect precision
Wanting to be heard with clear cognition

Because he sees boundaries
As obstacles
He is taught, and even worse,
He believes
He only need work his way through

And if he does
He almost always does

The self you used to see
Now feels obsolete
M Solav Sep 2018
We were mixed up when it built;
One another forced to coexist.
As it drew us high and higher still,
Below us grew the abyss.

Overflowing with ecstasy,
We left our hearts astray.
The obnubilating and obsolete
Had gotten our way.

Obstacles vanished one by one,
Increasingly slaying the beast.
Moments we thought we'd won
Are when we'd won the least.

We stretched out our hands towards the sky
Like wretched ghosts wrapped in disguise,
As though we had just found a new paradise
With the devil ahead leading as our guide.

We followed him throughout the land:
"This way leads us to the great fountain",
And now we're stuck in a desert of sand
Wondering when oases shall be attained.

We've taken a bet against our nature.
Was it anyone-in-particular's fault?
"For every curse there'll be a cure,
For every flood there'll be a drought."

Once more, again, we shall repeat,
To morrow, and for ever more.
When the sunshine now seems to greet
And when the darkness falls,

Comes that nighttime of our lives;
We ponder what we've been,
But what we're we supposed to be
When the pact was always sealed.

So we wait in such anxiety,
The impatience growing itchy;
And we amass, tall in piles,
To crash onto the shores like the sea.
Written in August 2016.
Glory Jul 2018
He locked away the bad guys
Who hid under our beds
And the madness inside their eyes
Changed him all red

He was convinced of evil
And told us so
Of souls that were unsalvageable
That were without hope

Now I feel a chill
When I search my reflection
'Cause if I stand deadly still
I see no sliver of redemption
Whispering winds of solemn sorrow
In the mundane hours of the night,
Surmise the falsities of tomorrow,
Spreading dark throughout the light.

Preying upon the minds that dwell,
With woven lies, a web so foul...
Hark! The sounds of voices swell
As the whispers rise into a howl.

Soon settling the sorrow of the traveling fellow...
He never could find his way,
Strumming tomorrow like it were a cello,
Snapping the strings in dismay.

Who--alive for years, never did live,
As his angst and diffidence cumber.
Even the magnanimous can't forgive
Missing dreams of untried slumber.

Remnants of his tortured call
Were swept away in the breeze.
A feeble ripples arduous sprawl,
Replaced by the fray of the seas.

His idle mind tended to wander,
Through yesterday's--before tomorrow,
Distorted pasts of future's squander,
Finding days from which to borrow.
Amanda Stoddard Apr 2018
Sometimes shoes are hard to fill
sometimes they feel like cement
but somehow I keep walking
whether on eggshells or stained glass apologies
I wither in the aftermath of accomplishment.

I am afraid of wanting more for myself.

where do you go when defeated is all you've ever known?
how do you make peace with a half-assed apology?

I am afraid this forgiveness makes me weak
weeping inside of the idea that I can be in control
of this trauma.

but the twin sized bed in my childhood home is more of a cage
and I am stuck there wishing I could escape.

wishing I could make something more of myself.
I am too visceral and not enough visual
this anxiety taking my breath
making me sick to my stomach
why can I not remember correctly?

No one talks about it.
No one gets how it feels to miss a memory
or how the presence of one
makes you lose reality.

My mind is stuck in fragmentation.

I'm tired of not remembering days
because of what she did to me.

Manipulation a scarlet letter on the chest of everyone.
My younger self tells me they all just want something.

No one can take anything away from you
if you have absolutely nothing left.

wipe the hard-drive clean
I will become obsolete.
Sally A Bayan Mar 2017
I saw...
a huge, open space, arrayed  with pink and
yellow roses and zinnias...there were benches
under trees that  stretched towards a lagoon,
for those gone weary, from their walks...

I saw...
a family...children were playing
on the green, lush carpet grass,
dressed in their bright-colored clothes
of red and yellow,  and blue jeans...
confidently hopping, and tumbling
wearing expensive rubber shoes...while
having bites of sandwiches, and sips of juices...
from a safe distance, seated on a bench, were
the overseers...the parents...as two nannies
kept close watch over the children.......

I saw...
a group of noisy children come in from the streets
running barefooted, feeling the cool, moist grass...
some refused to remove their rubber slippers,
their clothes were old and tattered...too excited,
they jumped.....lay on the grass without a care,
they shrieked, as they climbed and fell from slides,
obviously enjoying their visit....their shouts, their
laughter seemed contagious, the well-endowed
children, stopped their games and observed...

I saw...
how the parents summoned the nannies,
they gathered the children, and all their stuff
then marched towards a less peopled area,
and there, they let their children play....while
they sat on a nearby bench, pulled long sighs,
one after the other...i wondered...were they
exhausted?  or, pricked by their conscience?
were they sighs of relief.......because their
children were now distanced......."safe,"
......from the less fortunate ones?
:::::::::
whatever happened to  noblesse oblige?
are these just two foreign words,
with obsolete meanings?
::::::::::::::


Sally

Copyright March 9, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Wade Lancaster Sep 2015
I stood apart with aloof dignity
A distant smile
He was upstage with strangers
Erudite I am with many
Downtrodden was never
Aloof for the school of accepted
Erudiate becomes obsolete
Reading a dictionary one will come across words of poetic justice. The word erudiate is obsolete . Its meaning; To instruct, to educate, to teach.
Meg Howell Apr 2015
Like an arrow shot in the sky
the world has become a pool of obsolete people and danger
With nothing but useless words
bouncing back and forth
Next page