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amidst the subtle headaches
and pulsating temples
like mountains raining
jagged side down and
wooden nutcrackers
bayoneting the insides
of our brains
our lives keep riding
these burning carousels
of monotony

there’s no war in our ****
or fire in our incinerator
anymore

and these chessboard days
of recrimination keep
repetitively circulating
into the form of a
spherical motion

get up, go to work,
get yelled at by the boss,
fight traffic, come home,
cook, clean, eat dinner,
go to sleep and do it all
over again until
there’s no beginning
to tomorrows end. living our
vanilla lives with vanilla wives
until the something happens.

the needle of change pulls
through the thread of life
and we begin all over again
on a new chessboard
on a new carousel
and repeat steps
until our lifelines
look more like
a string of beads
than a mountain landscape
or a flash of lightning
because it’s easier to give up
and settle down than to have life
constantly changing in chaos
but only if we had enough
courage to shake the world
like an Ian Curtis epilepsy dance
and rip the necklace of listlessness
off the neck of inferno
and watch the pearls
of our routine fall,
bounce
and roll down
some ***** alleyway
where a rat never lived.
Amy Duckworth Jul 2018
"It's going to be alright"
"Your fine nothing is wrong"
"Everything turns out in the end"
I always hear those lines
Over
And
Over
And
Over
I hate those lines
Nothing is ok in my mind
I broke and so did my world
Stop saying that
Please
Just stop
It hurts me more
Moeshfiekah Mar 2018
Yes
I crave you touch
I quiver under your touch
You make love and **** all at the same time.
Everything is said on its own
Sally A Bayan May 2016
(((( broken record ))))

..........it usually depends...........
.......on prevailing circumstances.......
The fragility, or inconsistency of excuses
Can't just ignore the gravity of a situation
Some behaviors....need immediate attention
Could also be....the dominant mood of the day
The five girls say, it's not the day's.........but mine
However they look at it, or feel about it....they obey
Right values must be inculcated in their growing minds
Words have to be repeated....clarified.....and emphasized
Advice given by kinsfolk, must be heard.............and I smile,
As I ignore their pouting lips...unnecessary frowns....snorting.
Can't ever be their Wonder Woman....to keep them from falling,
So, with a loud or modulated voice...I say my piece over and over
Like a record gone awry....playing off and on.....every now and then.

Got to be broken at times
Got to play my music
As often as needed.

Sally


Copyright May 7, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
For all the parents and grandparents who become broken records to their growing kids and grandkids,...please, just do  it with grace....take it easy.....
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL THE MOTHERS, GRANDMOTHERS  OUT  THERE !!!
Holly Owen Mar 2016
In this moment,
I am held by the simplest of forces.
One that takes control of my senses,
reaching from sight to touch.
Every cell is taught,
like a string pulled too tight.
Each breath is sharp,
like i'm being strangled by my own tongue.
Lack of oxygen impairs my thoughts,
as if i'm drunk without drinking.
It feels as though i'm locked in an arm-bar,
but I cannot summit so I black out.  
Consumed by the negative,
forever reaching for the positive.
Words and actions are constantly intertwined
with worry
I tell myself to breath,
but the grip it has on my throat is tight.
Squeezing down on my breath,
my mind,
my body,
my senses,
until the blackness is all that's left.
I have been here for an eternity,
yet why hasn't anything changed.
I search aimlessly for a exit,
grasping at nothing but air.
My lungs are lifeless and
i feel like there is no hope.
In that moment,
I blink back to reality.
Mere seconds have passed,
the world is still whole and spinning.
Nothing has changed,
everything is where i had left it.
Broken and yet whole once more,
i pick myself up and try to carry on.
I can now check this off my to do list,
and prepare for tomorrows moment.

© Holly Owen 2016
The daily struggle
Martin Narrod May 2014
The likes of you I can't describe,
Yet I love to eat between your thighs.
The melody you spake to me
Unfolds my greatest sovereignty.
I crave to quaff all of your spit,
And swallow every drop of it.
Don't cheat me of your tasty flesh,
Those bare and supple ****** *******,
Your eyes that follow my firm gaze,
While we kiss and lick and misbehave.
I need to feel each piece of skin,
Smashing girl and boy parts over and over again.
It's such a treat to eat you whole;
I'm obsessed with eating 19-year-olds.
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