lmbf 4h
Her touch is warm like a fuzzy blanket. She wraps one around in the cadence of her voice; it's like an old song one had forgotten about, quietly humming in the foreground. Her smile beckons, both as a siren and as an old lover. One listens to her speak and wonders about all the galaxies whirring around in her mind.

And when I look at the curve of her spine and the slope of her chest, for the first time it makes me want to explore that place. It is the sacred place where kings and queens are written into existence, where love and pleasure and sometimes even pain collide with an unending force. I wonder what she could do to take me there. And I think of what I could do to make her feel that same sweet pleasure, if only for a few moments.
i don't know what the hell i am anymore. how i identify. are these feelings right or is this yet another thing i have to hide. naturally, here is my existential crisis in two paragraphs. // Summer Freewrite Sessions 2018
Angie 8h
Falling in love is just like setting sail,
It takes real courage to board the ship.
The winds keep on blowing, they howl & wail,
The oceans are dark, mighty and deep.

Rough sailing has storms, dangerous streams...
So when you're ready to sail, stay bold!
Forget about tears, weakness or whims,
This ocean has already got too much salt

Being in love is like guiding the ship
Through storms and the lure of the depth,
Fighting the meddlesome jealousy grip,
Facing the elements’ wrath and the Death.

You’re sailing together, so just fight the cold
(Love’s dangerous waters will win by assault)
Keep doubts, bitten pride and ego on hold,
This ocean has already got too much salt!
Kat 2d
Her
When I met her
I was in a dark place
She made me feel better
alone with her I felt safe

When I met her
I fell in love easily
Me and her alone
protecting me in isolation furiously

Her's was the fear
but I knew why I had to be scared
the danger was clear
I wasn't meant to be shared

But hidden in front of everyone's eyes
better still behind closed doors
safe and sound and internally screaming
my lively body lying dead on barren floors

When I met her
to love her felt so right
easier yet but to walk amongst strangers
simpler yet to swallow all forsaken pride

Since I realized that I loved her wrong
that I only grew fond of her protection
I started taking her out on walks
I've written her a heartfelt song

"I love you dear,
you are my fearful guardian
and I thank you for reminding me
to keep an open eye, to always look for the hidden scorpion
Let me find comfort in you
when I know being terrified
makes less a fool out of me
but only a soul less traveled, barely petrified.

In my way of loving,
let me find my kind of freedom
I don't need you solving

Anxiety. "
Totally freestyled this. Might change it later. Let me know what you think.
Freddie Ruiz Jun 30
You just brag about how people kiss up to you,
look up to you, rub up on you and feel up on you,
because nobody can stand “as high as you”,
yet, you’re asking me to prove that I have faith in you.
Well, if you think I have to kiss up to you,
look up to you, rub up on you and feel up on you,
because I can’t stand as high as you,
then, why are you asking me to have faith in you
if after all, no one can stand as high as you?
Written on March 23, 2010
Composition number: 351
lucy 3d
It’s not through any fault of yours
That I cannot share with you my pain
Or force myself to my knees in prayer.
The cross I bear is all my own -
I bite down on my crown of thorns.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

In the pulpit the priest tells of freedom
With faith that perfection awaits.
Yet, I confess, church bricks crumble around me.
Smothering those who hope for something more.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

I cry out at the altar,
But only echoes return,
Misplaced anger is given new purpose, Punishment is due.
Your mercies are new every morning,
But I’m stuck in perpetual nightfall.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

Altar wine stains my lips red,
Stale bread sticks at the back of my throat.
Its appeal has been lost, but still I swallow.
And the pit in my stomach is not yet filled.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

Dust settles in my corners
And I’ve fallen into disrepair.
Morning bells have long since stopped ringing,
You turned a blind eye and I closed both of mine.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

I collect shards of steel,
But in candlelight the blades glitter golden.
Flames lick the razor edge
Forging currency to buy my escape.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

My lover calls me from the dark,
Beckoning me to his bed of earth.
I flirt with death ‘til I’m wrapped in his arms
But my outstretched fingers are reaching for you.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.
In which each stanza represents one of the sins
Korina 3d
Men...
I am in awe
At your lack of masculinity
Yes...
Lack of masculinity
As beautiful as the bridge of my nose
The way I highlighted and contoured
To create my perfect glow
The way I crease the wings
To increase my wings
To fly into your mind
As a beautiful woman being
You find flaw????
Flaw???
In me?
How dare you speak
On what you have not created
To tell me to enhance more
Than what God has created
How dare you see me
As any less
You are no longer Man...
You are peasant
With no respect
You tried to belittle
My essence
With your lack of neglect
To even be able
To drive these curves
Yet you want to see bigger breast??
I am grounded in a mine of gold
A diamond in the rough
A man never satisfied
Is clearly a man not good enough
fog
early spring rains are chill
collect in rivers, lakes and seas
morning's sun warms the air
laden with moisture's care

heavy white mist's tenor
watch our horizon fade lost
yesterday, today, tomorrow level
but only one stands in treble

brambles' thorns pierce skin
and scratches our pride within
falls into ditches and off cliffs
seek a guide to refuge's clef

his staff turns and leads us
past death's dark night
and he will sing over you
in victory, a melody bright
2018 © Christos Victor

poem

Meditation on Ecclesiastics 1- 3

“all streams run into the sea,
but the sea is not full;
to the place where the streams flow,
there they flow again.”

9 What gain has the worker from his toil? 10 I have seen the business that God has given to the children of man to be busy with. 11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. 12 I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; 13 also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil—this is God's gift to man.
14 I perceived that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it. God has done it, so that people fear before him. 15 That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already has been; and God seeks what has been driven away.

Zephaniah 3:16-17 (ESV)

16 On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
“Fear not, O Zion;
    let not your hands grow weak.
17 The Lord your God is in your midst,
    a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
    he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.
Take a look at my scars, and I’ll tell you a story,
But not every story has a scar.
They may frighten you, even be a little gory
But I’m proud of them by far

They’re numeric, reminder of the time
A past hysteric, reminder of the climb

There’s no big hand, nor small hand, just ticks on the inside of the wrist
And in either past, or present, I stand, The small hand still exists

With every tick and every tac, came a click and a comeback, and every time I thought I lacked, I came back, I came back

So the scars you see, aren’t the scars that hurt
The scars that bleed, aren’t that overt
And may I assert,
That real scars need to be pestered and picked, overtime they fester and restrict

One day the slice was slow, as I cut deep into the skin.
How I watched the blood go, as I fell into a grin.
Though you couldn’t tell at the time, But, that’s when I had total control.
In the youth of my prime, when my honor was stole.

Waiting for assurance, but assurance was delayed,
expecting a father’s love, but Love was betrayed.

And now the blood is pooling, and the scar begins to clot,
my heart begins its cooling, but the blood is still hot

There’s no fret, no confusion, nor panic
All what I let, no dissolution, nor manic

For what comes next is easy and simple, of how to mend the gash.
After a thorough cleaning, it’ll heal up in a flash

But deep cuts take long to heal,
They’re a constant reminder of what’s real
There’s a constant reminder of the deal
Constantly restricting what you feel.

You have to restrict the scar from growing
The power comes from managing the pain.
Stop the mind from knowing
Restriction of the brain.

So which story would you rather Hear?
The one of Triumph or the one of Fear.
Because both start in the same place
But, one ends at the surface, while the other at the base.

And while my deepest cuts remain covered
A person is discovered.
Beyond the cuts, only skin deep
Deep into the secrets I keep
Cuts that scrape down to the soul
That no medication can fill the hole
But, now I can stand and walk
Even when those around stare and gawk
I shed the weight of the shackles of my past, and hope that this time it will last
There are no tales told of a heroine a slave
For my story is brave. And in my story, I save.
For if you knew me, you’d see.
That deep down, I just want to be, Free
For the ones that live with their scars
I can in so unaware,
and so naive.
You used that against me.
It was all new.
Day in and day out,
on my feet for hours,
trying my damn hardest,
and the anixity eating me away.
It didn’t matter,
it was never enough.
An accident I never meant to happen,
and I was written up.
Two weeks just shy of two months since my first day,
and written up three more times.
It was then I couldn’t take it anymore.
You weren’t going to tear me down any further.
And I wasn’t going to let you win.
So I walked out the door with my head held high.
No goodbye.
I wrote this poem after a bad experience with a job. Don’t stay somewhere where people treat you like crap. Stand up for yourself and walk away if you have to.
Suicide is not an option.


There are times in your life, when time is not on your side,
But please do not rush to your death,
I have no wish to see you die.
I intend to lay here, by your side
And awaken you with a kiss, in the morning light.


For suicide is not an option, I shall let you choose,
Suicide is not an option, I shall let you take.
I wouldn’t want to grieve the loss of such beauty,
So please don’t go away.


For you are everything this poor boy needs,
To sleep at ease each night.
You give me my reason to struggle on, try as life might,
To take me out, I’m going to stand solidly at your side,
For your love gives me strength
And holding your hand gives me such pride.


You are my reason for continuing to live,
No matter what this life may throw at me.
I wish I could mean as much to you,
So if you love me, then suicide you cannot think,
Is a viable option you can seriously take.
Please my love, don’t let me awaken to your corpse today.
Please my love I would do anything,
Whatever it takes, to give you a reason to live.


But suicide is not an option, I shall let you choose;
Suicide is not an option, I shall let you take.
I wouldn’t want to grieve the loss of such beauty,
So please don’t go away.


Have you really given up on us?
Have you had enough of me?
Do you mean it when you say I have your love?
Or are you simply saying that to get what you need?
Because I want you to know I love you so,
This is why I can’t let you just go.


So suicide is not an option, I can let you choose,
Suicide is not an option, I can let you take.
I could not grieve the loss of such beauty,
So please don’t leave me today.


(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Next page