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elle jaxsun Mar 25
am i ******* crazy or are you?

i can't tell and it's putting me
in a pretty ****** *** mood.

everything's back and forth
back and forth
back and forth
back from the grave (I found this in my deleted stuff and it made me laugh)
Brielle Bishop Dec 2018
11.11.18// Revised 12.5.18
Dialogue // Mania

There is no reason
There is no reason
There is no reason  
And I do not understand
The orange bottle symbolic
Internally
White and round
Like wafers at a communion
Offering up my body
My mind
Broken down spirit
You need to compose yourself
But all you can compose is this
Even the dog is worried
Orange feline
Another symbol
Wrapped around your heels
Who will feed them?
If you’re away
Don’t break the glasses
But you should
Don’t break the glasses  
Smell of blood
Don’t break the glasses
Across the floor
Don’t
Lock the children away


You’ve dug through the ash tray three times
Obsessively checking three more
Flesh on flesh
The sound of follicles
Torn  

Make it stop.
Anya Oct 2018
It's the start of the school
year and everyone's
milling about
socializing

Water particles
Milling about
forming
and breaking
hydrogen bonds

There's a group of
new kids,
awkwardly standing
off to the side

A large crystal
of salt
is dumped among
the
water

Some of the old kids
start milling
over pulling
new kids
into
their friend
groups

The water starts
bonding with
individual
ions of salt
positive with negative
negative with positive
pulling them
away
to form
bonds

Eventually all the
new kids are
incorporated into
friend groups

The lattice of salt
is broken apart
...
And all the individual ions
are surrounded
by
new
friends
Known as H2O
If you find quirky analogies to science interesting check out my collection "science poems".
Ophélie S Sep 2018
i.


not bad,
i commented to myself as i watched you do your thing
for the first time ever ;
not bad was my way to say
extraordinary
still is today
i have standards, you see and —
well...
they were met when i
heard you say,
"that's only half what
i can do."

let's get this straight:
i was the best at what i do until
you came around ;
it's not like i'm mad though —
quite the opposite 
in fact.


ii.


here's something else:
i have always liked the way your eyes
shot daggers
even when you were smiling ;
a death stare, they named it and, you know,
i won't call them wrong —
i'm rather fluent with the concepts of
death
and staring myself, after all.


ah,
do you remember?
when we spoke to each other —
it was always a sparring of
eyes
rather than words.


iii.


a fact:
you have been called cold
more often than
you have been called pleasant ;
i know  —
it's not like you'd disagree
not like you'd be stupid enough to
deny ;
cold is a comfortable shadow
to hide in,
something people like us
wear as a coat or
a scarf
from july to june.


now,
there's this saying that the addition of
two negative objects
turns them a positive
result ;
i'm not much of a scholar so, honey,
what's on your mind?


iv.


i get it now,
if i'm propellers
you are wings —
rather than a mirror, we're
distorted reflects
a thing evolution knows
a great deal about ;
this yearning is the aspect of you
i'd wish to keep
bottled up ;
"what for?" you'd ask.


no,
yearning is not a thing
i'm a stranger to ;
i've yearned for many things including
strength
sleep
serotonin
and you —
i've been struggling
to make them mine, though
perhaps because i'm never really trying.


v.


that's how you do it:
you take what you want with
clawed hands
accomplish miracles with
thunderous silence —
an entity of cruel fairness,
icy anger but —
what you want is a complicated
thing
with definite shape to your eyes
but blurry to those of
others.


okay,
i'm neither believer nor seer but
here's a little prediction :
the day you are satisfied is the day
hellmouth
shuts down upon us all and
half of me
prays for it.


vi.


about extremes —
some will say grey is a better shade and
though i confess
it does have its charms,
it still has to paint me a picture more striking
than a soul with
adamentine purpose.

see —
i stare as you pass by,
terrific in beauty
beautiful in hardness and
off —
goes my heart, sanity, ego
and shirt.
Rayven Rae Aug 2018
i hate the feeling
electricity zapping
panic rising up

elephant sitting
when you have to breathe to live
but breathing kills you

frantic brightness fills
my eyes become not my own
this rollercoaster

the ride is rising
imminent crescendo comes
makes my brain explode

frantic morphs into
the manic part takes over
breath is optional

heart racing pumps blood
this is my brain not on drugs
**** this high on life

is this how he felt?
fragmented thoughts shooting pain
in constant motion

he was bi-polar
only 26-years-old
manic made him shoot

powder burns gaping
bullet isn’t only a word
it’s self-inflicted

is this how he felt?
ghosts collide with memories
make sense make sense again

is this how he felt?
i can’t get out of my head
south polar-trapped north

reality shifts
welcome to my Upside-Down
make this go away

perspective shifted
shattered doesn’t begin to
put name to sorrow

i miss him so much
every breath i take is laced
knowledge of absence

i welcome the pain
i feel him trapped inside me
can i do this life?

my world has shattered
i will never be the same
**** this time and place
amber Jul 2018
wishing for a break
from the hectic mania
that my mind projects
and the absolute havoc
the outside world reaps
elle jaxsun Jul 2018
i'm not doing this on purpose
i just wish i knew
how to be a person without
having to think it all through.

i wander through my days
with a fog before my eyes
i don't know who to talk to
or if i'm even alive.

it's difficult to live when you
spend almost all your time
fantasizing about death
and that's the only real thought in mind.

i just wish i knew
who to be
where to go
what to do
Jesse stillwater Jul 2018
there are the ones
that feel it climb up
the shadow towards the light,
hesitation on every rung,
each wave of the arising
      overwhelms  unabated ―
and woe betides those
who are on the run
from a storm's deluge


A rousing ocean breeze
stirs inside the memory
of an unframed seashell
lying on the hearth mantel;
heightened sensitivity
lapping soundlessly,
spindrift plashing
the shoreline
of another world's
feigned peace


Perhaps the muted voice
of guilty pleasures,
hushed by their own
hidden truths
Feeling the unfelt textures
of every stifled vibration
left unbreathed


The naked truth befallen
so cold and lonely
Running in circles,
volatile as all those
     unspoken excitations raging ―
and the whispers of those
who hear not
the voices in the wind


An emotionally enslaved  heart
tarries,  marooned high and dry
in a memory on a distant sand bar
     lain fallow for so long ―
stagnant darkness
of an unsated soul
gathered on the back
of a parched tongue
sullied wordless


Rising up through
a dusty hieroglyph corridor
through an unlocked
labyrinth gate;  vestige echoes
from somewhere left behind
in an incomprehensible
abandoned wake


It's getting harder and harder
   for an insatiable soul to breathe ...
   climbing up a tree trunk―
up within the silence
of the listening tree


  Toes dug into
the rough bark furrows ―
fingers reaching upwards
beyond their deepest known grasp


A shadow stranded
out on a hangin' bough
hearkening without ears that hear:
“perhaps they’ll listen now“  
the wingless bird sings
in psalms that fly away
on tattered feathers
over untamed waters roil


Back to nature’s waning youth,
the bough bends unbroken
to taste the freedom
of the wild absolving seas



Jesse Stillwater
June     2018
Notes:                                                                                                          
a friend sent  a link to a deeply thought provoking modern classic 70's song about Vincent Van Gogh and the complexities of imperfection some of us relate .... i'd listened to the words prior but never heard before now.

  Title is last final lyric line from:  "Vincent" (Starry, Starry night) 1971
Writer(s): DON MCLEAN, ENRICO NASCIMBENI,
ROBERTO VECCHIONI
Dw1234 May 2018
Beauty, all of its forms
Holds in her hands
Nurturing insignificance
Holds our every breath

Live by order
Die by design
Thoughts are control
Feeling, the result

We give to receive
We see to be seen
We die to live
We live to die

Old as time
Desire innate
Behind perspective
It’s all here

Breaking the ties
These laws that adhere
Unequalized and raw
Of unpolarized origin

Can’t perceive
what we aren’t
Once we do
Hello Beauty
amber Apr 2018
I'm drenched in emotion,
While you remain still,
Seemingly unnerved.

How are you sitting so calmly,
As my face reveals every nuance,
Of agony flooding my head?

Your appearance screams indifference.

In reality,
I have no clue how you feel.
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