Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Gestalt
Try not
To add salt
For it's whole
Try not
To find a hole
For it's whole
See the whole
Don't be small
When you see
Your digestive system
**** inside
You don't mind
As soon as
It's out
You cringe
Send it
To the fringe
Your skeleton
So frightening
Seen together
With flesh n skin
It's so beautiful
You kiss n lick
Where you
Shouldn't be
Kissing n licking
Parts seem
To lack admirable qualities
Whole makes
The whole thing
Beautiful n admirable
Greater than
Sum of its parts
Gestalt!
Sometimes he writes X
Sometimes diametrically
Opposite minus X
This is done intentionally
To confuse them
So they remain confused
For they see through
Selectively see through
Others' deeds
Pass judgements
They don't have holistic approach
They don't know whole
Is greater than the  sum total
Of its parts
So confused state is the best
For them
Staying confused
Never knowing the truth
Die oscillating
Between X and minus X!
Beautiful parts ...

sweetheart ...

tell me ...
from where ...
should i start ...
which parts ...
may i start with ...
from your lips ...
or from your ******* ...
or from that crazy cave ...
inside you ...
just tell me ...
my sweet angel mine ...
from which parts ...
and how to start ...
how to get my irrigation ...
from those naked parts ...
which it all ...
made me a crazy lover ...
that never to satisfy ...
from you all ...

oh babe ...
my lady's world ...
from which parts ...
may i start ...
just tell me ...
to start ...
one by other ...
until i get you all ..


hazem al ...
Anemone Feb 1
I am words
I am notes
I am castles
I am moats
Who am I?
I can’t seem to die
There are parts of me
No one else can see
One for creativity
One for tragedy
One for the songs I sing
One for everything
Sarah Lane Jan 30
We have things in our life that are precious
They are the parts of us
That make us who we are
The things we will never forget
They make us whole and leave a scar
A seed plants itself in your heart
It happens without your control
But suddenly it’s there
It’s a delicate thing that gives you joy
It doesn’t matter if it’s imperfect
But you never want to lose it
Our lives will consist of these pieces
That are like dandelion seeds
We feed them love without thinking
From the core of our being
Without just one, we aren’t whole
Why can’t we hold them all together
So that forever we have it all
Inevitably time blows like the wind
Each fragile seed flies away
We can dance around to catch them
But love was never ours to hold
It must be free to live and breathe
To create and to pass away
Every part of our soul that we have fed
That feeds us and makes life worth it
Belongs to the maker of the wind
The One that is greater than it all
Who holds everything in balance
The core that each life belongs to
That very heart of Love
Saves every smile and tear
From the beginning to the end
And is painting a beautiful portrait
As the breeze blows each moment away
So that when we look back at our life
We see the precious memories
Blessings that never truly disappeared
It starts but doesn’t end bare
Loving, remembering, painting
Until your picture is complete
A dandelion in God’s hand
With every part that made you...you
Part I
The night, no moon in the sky
The wind, full force as to fly
The cold, as to numb the blood
The trees, shadows the vision flood
The night, dark blue in the water
The wind, of rose is the howled attar
The cold, close to freezing the lake
The trees, static dormant to a shake
The night, solitary is the dark
The wind, momentary is its mark
The cold, nearly settled is the doubt
The trees, silent is their spout

The night, the wind, the cold, the trees

A Swan glides with an asynchronous thread
Feathers in the umbra, the heart partly dead
He has lost his dearest, his alluring arch
Spring isn't coming, no September or March
Once there was another swan
To make the lake shimmer with dawn
Their courtship was the core of the pond
A rare gem of opal coloured their bond
Unlike gems, though, be crushed love can
And it was time's deed right there and then
She now is in a new safe haven
And left was him with an egg of a raven

In the midst of this midnight dreary
The Swan was forlorn and weary
But the clouds of metal became of cotton
The grey marsh sudden, was brief forgotten
A shred of light, two lions glowed
Their manes of fire their passion showed
"What a scene" the Swan had thought
"That's the fervor my heart had sought
Forever bound by a curse of ice
I am void and there's no price
To unlock me from the eternal dream
And let me find my lion gleam"

Still, the sky is yet so white
And the past gloom cannot him fright
At his right the Swan stare
Intrigued by the unceasing flare
A piglet and a spider, what a scene
Why are they ringed by a sheen?
In the night, they play like friends
Fight, discuss and make amends
A web of favours and support
Parades of gratitude are never short
"Oh, is it fondness what I am lacking?
Is this why I am ever cracking?"

Now the display is certainly over
And the Swan hopes to find his clover
No more than ever he is so keen
To live anew and be serene
The night enjoys the happy mood
And let the moon stop its brood
The clouds, at once, no more than mist
An ethereal cast, will this be a tryst?
The moon glitz on a past reflection
A female black swan of mystic complexion
An owl hoots afar and is dismissed
As the hero sings after being kissed:

"Where have you been, my dove?
Why did you leave, my love?
I was so lost in here
Without your voice to hear

Without you to kiss me
Without you to bliss me
I was just a shadow
Missing the rain and the rainbow

But now I can see life
And each thing is so rife
I will give you my heart
So we won't fall apart"

Part II
Night, the moon is sublime
Wind, tame like no other time
Cold, feeble against heart's motion
Trees, mere pawns in this ocean
Yet silence cannot much contain
The disturbing growls of owl disdain
It thrives with strength, to fill the lake
To **** the love and pleasure take
The Swan, still, has just eyes... no ears
So to halt death from ousting his tears
Joy runs his body with iron vigor
His love denies dearth of such rigor

The courtship swims with celestial sync
In an opal ballet of black and white ink
Lastly, his arch the Swan can complete
With a dubious promise of endless heat:
"Our past is antiquity and shall be erased
The future, fertile, a wish to be chased
Let us embrace and with nature be one
Me and you, the rest will be none.
Though, I will only expect your happy devotion
No fear, no sadness, no other emotion
You are my minion, and mine in exclusive
Is this what you craved in your hope elusive?"

The Swan is soon hesitant of the deal
His novel grasp masks her appeal:
"Your words of ice burn down my feathers
Your crooked intentions prevent us together
I was foolish in you to trust my belief
Your offer won't stop my desert, my grief
Love can't ever be monochromatic
Yes, there are moments one's ecstatic
But endless joy is not the way
It will prevent freedom and will me betray
The value of love is shallow without anguish of partition
The bones of love are brittle without a conflict's remission"

The eyes of the black swan fumes in red
The clouds, the moonlight they shred
A tempest thunders over the misty lake
Out of the haze, the bird is now a snake:
"Your faith is missplaced in a callow profile
Your passt came closse to you beguile
You think your luck in love issn't departed
But you are full of sself-pity, fainthearted
Honesst love iss the piercer of my power
And IF you find it, I will to you cower
Yet you have nothing; you're dessperate for ssomeone
Had welcomed the deal, you wouldn't be undone"

The water spreads cold with every heartbeat
The quick rime sings Swan's defeat
The snake reveals its fangs of ink dark
And bites the Swan, a sanguine red mark
All seems lost to this tragic hero
A heart's betrayal in the absolute zero
Until a hoot echoes through the trees
And the bird finally the owl sees
With claws of steel, the snake it slashes
In response, lightning flashes
It breaks the ice and the reptile sears
The Swan is now saved, but not from his fears

A boy wakes up in a nice little room
With a painting of the lake and a flower in bloom
A bee buzzes around about the place  
And in the White Rose, lends with grace
Both make a sound akin to a chatter
They seem happy with their talking matter
The angered boy, annoyed by the insect,
Into the painting, the bee he projects
With a new aspect thrown away
He burns down reality's display
And when a dove finds its way out
The man its wings brake and his out route
This poem tells the story of a forlorn Swan that finally finds his true love but ends up discovering she is an illusion of his own desperate desires. It is divided into two parts as this is a large poem that features two different sets of struggles: finding happiness for yourself while everybody around you seems to have already found their answers, and learning that falling in love with anybody solely because of loneliness and desperation is not healthy in the long run. The poem transforms the speaker into a Swan and ends with an ambiguous point where it is unknown if the Boy is real or if the Swan is actually the real version of the Boy. Or maybe it is left ambiguous if the emotional events of the anthology have left the speaker confused about what is real and what is a dream (is the dream the reality he wants to exist in?), and now he needs the face this new reality he is in instead of dreaming about mystical animals, storms, and flowers.
Palpebra Dec 2020
×
There are parts

of mine

that are

far from fine,

I hide them well

behind

a mask so pretty

concealing an ugly mind,

dark-dingy corners

where

I don't let in the

Sun's glare,

filthy and messy

with litters from past

devilish and doomed

been from the very start,

I'm twisted

inside-out

cold and unlovable

without a doubt.

But I keep

all this

to myself

like a kiss,

that's too *****

to share

like a secret

I bear

&

add

layer

after

layer

burying these

demons and evils

deeper and deeper

calming the

impending upheavals.
I'm Not Generalising
Just Realizing What's Wrong With Me In General?
Strying Dec 2020
Don't fall in love and your heart will thank you
when it doesn't shatter and break into
          two,
                        three,
                                          a thousand parts.
</3
Wishing you a great day
Anemone Nov 2020
I feel as if I will never write again.
I feel the doubt and fear,
paralyzing me until I don’t know what to say or hear.
They hate me, don’t they?
I fear their eyes,
their words,
their tears.

But I cannot speak.

I listen for the footsteps.
Where are they now?
Lighter footsteps slamming the door until I cannot hear them anymore.
Heavy footsteps have gone as well, the door is opened.
There they are.
I feel small,
so small
and little.

The word regression comes to mind.
They are coming closer, switch the tab, and hope that they are blind.

Questions are like landmines, and each one is smaller, still, no matter the size of the landmine, whether you try to confront or evade, they all are set to ****.

I don’t know if I can do this, be anyone I want to be.
Will I be a starving artist and a disappointment to my family?

My name is Fear, I do not grow, I am small in every way.
My impact is big, my job so large, and yet small in stature is how I stay.

Am I Fear, or am I something hidden far below?
If I am Fear, then tell me please why does my power grow?

As soon as I speak I forget the words, the problems, and questions as well.
There are so many things I yearn to learn, so eager to tell.

Growing up is stupid, and you can’t disagree;
so many things have gotten harder with age for me.

Don’t go outside,
don’t say a word,
don’t stay on the path,
don’t be deterred.

Don’t sing,
don’t write,
don’t flirt,
don’t fight.

These are simple things to ask of you.

Don’t listen,
don’t hear,
don’t have courage,
don’t fear.

These are what you know, and simple things to do.
Impossible standards are easy, the simple tasks are hard.
Is it one voice now, or many?
Are you always on your guard?

Listen, See, Do, Be.
These are simple, don’t you see?
Doubt is here, or is it fear?
Or maybe someone new?
All of these thoughts are yours my dear, so what does that mean for you?
Sharon Miedema Oct 2020
I don’t like the days and I don’t like the nights.
I only like parts.
I want to enter the part where I enter dreamland.
Forever.
Even while awake later.
Just outside flying with the wind.
No distraction.
Being what I want to be.
For once and for all.
I want peace and dreams.
In the dark and sometimes in the light too.
But not too light, I became allergic to light.
Cause this life has left me burning and not able to face the brightness of another difficult day.
And the sounds are so horrific that they take my soul to leave it lost in space.
And my body cannot move.
It’s lying there still.
21-10-20
Next page