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femininefiction Dec 2020
Tonight I’ve felt the switch go off fifteen hundred times

Swinging like a pendulum, crawling through the vines

I spoke in tongues of laughter in the fields of chlorimine

My bones are broken bruises as i'm missing you as mine

But I don’t want to go back to you.



I look up at squinting blue eyes in an autumn meadow

Stare at the widows in the aquamarine sky

I’m tired of it’s blinding rays
I'm tired of begging myself to be

More stable

More subtle

More sweet

Like a Valencia picture tacked up on to a cardboard wall

When I’m cracking around the edges

Of being the woman who I’m not again



I think I’ll just cry tonight

Through the cravings of my mania

On fascination street

******* and alive

Singing by the ocean

Trying to survive

I think I’ll just die tonight



They always leave me when I’m silent

Swerving on the highways

wild and fragile

Fading in to outer space

Losing track of time  



Tonight I’ve felt the switch go off fifteen hundred times

Swinging like a pendulum, crawling through the vines

But I don’t want to go back to you.
Jordan Gee Oct 2020
The pendulum is a bull shark.
The hour of the savior is a pregnant bride's swan dive into the water.
The mighty mile is a figure 8 in the scoot of
non slop socks across the bare linoleum.
Blood and bright are the redness of the blanket.
divine terror at one hart beat per hour.
Finger nails green and black against a back drop
of the brightest, bluest eyes you've ever seen;
deep pools of liquid light that will shine when least expected.
And the obligation isn't one at all,
for when i breath in,
you breath out.
And when I gave consent 1000 years ago times 10-
you performed the exorcism under the shroud of my amnesia
and the spotted light from a crystal disco ball.
Shards of light moved upon the face of all the space between the stars.
My heart was in the highlands but now its in your hands.
post equinox Sep 2020
John McCafferty Feb 2020
A concept of self
strengthens with wealth
The rules they do change
when our histories made
Is perception an image of taste

Where to begin when
the pendulum swings
For all of our sins
start from within
Can we see beyond
our own gates
Does right become
wrong on judgement day
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
B D Caissie Sep 2019
Gazing through the window at generations of flowers in the garden of her long-departed youth.

The pendulum of time passes in consonance with the rocking of her chair until she smiles her last breath.

©
Andrew Harris Apr 2019
Fleeting thoughts of possibilities
Sometimes are the worst company
Fleeting thoughts of possibilities
Sometimes are all that I need

Why does life feel so fluid
I cannot seem to put my finger on
What is right and what is wrong
But I’m just another soul rewriting the song

What can give life can ****
Hell, dehydration and drowning
It’s absolutely insane the way the pendulum swings
All this time while knowing

My compass could point north
But is that my bearing?
Is that the way I am Steering?
With my neck careening...
And my ears without hearing...

I press on,
I move forward,
I don’t stop
I am tenacity
I am raw unfiltered determination
Unsure where to go, but without defecation

I press on
I will figure it out
I always figure it out
Yup, no doubt(...well, maybe a little)
It’s amazing, and terrifying how much things that are beyond your control can impact you... sometimes I feel at the mercy of another... sometimes... I am hurricane
annh Dec 2018
The swing in my heart,
Is a TROUBLESOME thing,
For sometimes I cry
And sometimes I sing.

Yet as much as I'd like
To be cheerful and glad,
There are days when quite often
I'm sorry and sad.

Just as fro can be to
And left can be right,
As high is to low
So dark is to light.

And out is for in
The way up is for down,
Remember a smile's
Just a back-to-front frown.

Yes, what keeps me sane
When the going gets tough,
Is like Yin and Yang
So are smooth times and rough.

The swing in my heart
Is a MARVELLOUS thing,
For sometimes I cry
But sometimes I sing.
Children's verse.
Salmabanu Hatim Oct 2018
I am the cuckoo clock,
Precise,authentic,steadfast  as a rock.
All day long,
Tick tock, tick tock goes my song.
Hung on the wall,
In the main hall,
Tick tock, tick tock, tick,
Not a wink,
My pendulum swings to and fro,
As I view people come and go.
On the dot of the hour,
My cuckoo slides in and out of the door,
Chirps a lovely cuckoo call,
Young and old in the hall,
They cheer all.
I am their cuckoo clock,
A piece of artistic work,
My master's pride,
The family's guide,
To their various routines,
For many many seasons I have been,
On their wall,
In the main hall.
Spiralize Sep 2018
Reflections of the sad soul,
when the shouts are unheard.
From the beauty of the pain within, the skies bleed red.
Water cleanses the body,
the soul is ripped apart though.
Solitude and Isolation is a Pendulum,
as it swings to and fro...
Inspired by a painting by a friend - Gem
jaden May 2018
this feeling is of a pendulum swinging
side                           to                         side
as if it cannot seem to make up it's mind.
the feeling tends to contradict itself by                                  

dreaming of
self discovery                  
                                       and longing for
                                       self destruction.

thought of not understanding it's truth
has been locked up in the             back
simply because never knowing why is
                                                                    .
                                                                            
                                                                     .
                                                                              
                                                                      .
emotions have never been something that i can easily understand for pretty much as long as i can remember.
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