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I don’t know how my mind convinced me
This time would be different
That she wasn’t like the others
A letdown recurrent

Not that she’s the sole source of this distress
Just an easy thing to blame it on
Nobody’s fault
Just a human phenomenon

It’s even harder to realize
That you are unlovable
Your expectations can never be met
And your life is untenable

It would be easier if you could find it in you
To believe in anything
Like God or love or hope or dreams
Something worth worshipping

It is irrelevant what you want
It does not matter how hard you try
So just collapse like a dying star
Ruin yourself just to get by

The worst is I can’t take the quick way out
Despite how much I am inclined
For I have seen first hand what that does to
Those that are left behind
Ylzm Apr 15
ordinary morning, late, bright and clear
weekend, no hurries, lets stay on in bed

in a flash, thunderous roar from above
mountainuous rock crashing, my mind saw

the skies echoed, rumbling in agony
rumbled and rumbled, on and on and on

strange sinister sound, trapped constant droning
UFO? baby superman landed?

rushed outside: no crash, just clouds in clear sky
rumble, rumble, rumble, man-made or what?

thundering, faint and far, near and muffled
none thunderous as the first rock that fell

then it rained: heavy; a soothing warm rush
droning masked, but strangeness etched, and lingered.
In flow I’m yet still,
Present here, but eternal;
A mystery clear!
something brushes my cheek as I sleep
tiny footsteps perhaps
and I awake in the vaguely lit room
somewhat startled
for this is the second time in two nights
but on this night I do not simply turn over
the dreams, these nightmares of sorts
are beginning to extend
well past the moment of being awake

now propped on one arm
I focus my eyes and sweep
first across my pillow
slowly to the edge
of the mattress
which is inches from the floor
I see it
not scampering
but walking away at a normal gate
this bright neon red spider  
large and life like
moving away towards the corner

wait!
I'm fully awake and I'm seeing this,
the thought occurred
my every nerve twitching in icewater
it's legs cartoonishly long and thin
I watched in stark silence
as it bent low and weaved its way through the space between my slippers
then behind a box of videos
I sat in disbelief
again asking myself if I were awake
but I knew
there was no need to slap myself this time

I slowly leaned towards the box and pulled it quickly
towards me
it was gone
and I was still awake
still in some place between disbelief and shock

how does one escape their nightmares
when they cross from dream to reality
oldie - true story - slightly revised
Arlene Corwin Apr 2018
I'm always trying to figure out why I go back time and again to writing poetry.  It's such a strange phenomenon.  Sometimes, like now, I'm allowed a glint.

      Poetry Is My Means

Poetry is my means:
To thinking out a thought;
To finding more about myself;
To analyzing good and bad:
To making tail or head
Of circumstance.



Poetry helps me define,
Refine,
Become a finer person,                
Binding my persona.



So many things I did not know
Of which I had not one iota
Of ability to see:
The ****, silly, plus the *****-nilly
Miracle of mind,
Its mysteries revealing hints
And hinting at the revelations
Which belong to geniuses
And saints:
Everything I ain’t.

In learning and forgiving            
Poetry is everything a giving gift
Can give.

Poetry Is My Means 4.15.2018 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative III; Revelations Big & Small; Arlene Corwin
Tanisha Jackland Jan 2018
Watch me
See how
graceful I am
I make no mistakes
under your watchful eye
I am gilded perfection

just me and my righteousness
righting all the wrongs
while you watch
Me and the right moves

just don't take your
eyes off of me
or I become part of this massive
presence in the cosmos
doing soulfully wanton
and naughty things
shed light on me
and I become this
perfect
little
freak
We all pretend to have it together when someone is watching.
Seema Dec 2017
The ocean may rise
In a phenomenon disguise
You may not wait to give me a hand
To collect the emerging sand
Or the damaged pieces of shells
When the shores sink in like wells
The drips of water may sway
And you my friend, would just
Turn away......!


©sim
{what the sense and mind notices, unexplained questions}
{tears rising in eyes}
{unknowingly seeing my love with the other yet I disguise my tears}
{If I breakdown, you may not give ahand}
{To collect the memories}
{and the broken parts of my heart}
{heart sinks in deep}
{my tears would just be brushed off}
{rather consoling me, you would just leave}
{Coz you stole my love, and left me drowning deep}
as the shadows speak to one another
in whispers above my traveling thoughts
what to make of this seeker of deeper dreams

I surprise them when I hear their voices
through the lucid silence and
the bending seams

like a surgeon's surprise
when a patient's eyes
flash open from deepest slumber
they are drawn to me
in my dream scape sea
and 333 is my number

though I be the one in search of answers
there are questions within you I raise
for the King of lost souls
and graveyard dancers
can provide you a glimpse
of your living days
I am so often awakened by the shadows
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