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duang fu Sep 2019
they say; as they force grandma to walk away.
and I down the aisle of wilted flowers
as far gone as my dreams, awaiting
a happy man who will dry tears -
only crocodile, the yellow has
nestled far too deep in my skin
for anyone to understand, but the
eyes show and they know - i am
too far gone beyond the sea wall.
in any case i dress in my shell
every morning in the bedroom
i share with my siblings, and they
quite like how it looks.

every day has a new sunrise,
father never says sorry but we go on anyway.
i crack open a durian and bleed in the kitchen,
it stains my fingernails so i have to carry it
around with me. not sure how much it weighs
and my mother cannot measure it on a
supermarket scale. i flip through papers
to broaden my horizons and yet when
the small child next to the bus window
tells me that he can see everything, i think so too.
written august 6 2019, 6.53am
influenced by the style of ally chua's poem 'nothing in this house works anymore'
Bee Aug 2019
inherently i understand that i am enough
but i wish i wasn't as easily disposable
as most people make me out to be
my time equating to nothing more than a block
hiding in corners to protect my back
fearful of concealed knives and sweet smiles
i wish for nothing more than visible venom
please conceal yourself clearly in a syringe
fill my veins with nothing more than permanence
a certain vacancy awaits your half-hearted arrival
during my downfalls into despair
crying alone under the eye of the moon
poison of my own choosing infiltrates my lungs
some nights my liver as well
weighing down what you toss in the air so freely
hoping for something concrete to return to your hands
but forgetting that gravity has its' own laws
no matter how much alteration we convince ourselves
we are capable of
prayer does not tie together loose ends
hope does not resolve hostility
i cannot mold myself to easily accept authentic feelings
anymore than you can do to reject that
of your own
Acina Joy Aug 2019
The rain comes.

A lover cries.
A farmer rejoices.
A lost man is renewed.
A friend has been taken.

Wherever you are, wherever you've been. It is the same.

The rain comes.
If you want an anime recommend, watch Dororo, and specifically, episode 6. I got inspiration from there. :((
Don't let your lows
Define your heights
Keep your goals set
Firmly within your sight

Focus on yourself
What you want to achieve
You can bring about
Whatever you believe

Pick yourself up
Brush off the dust
You're almost there
Right on the cusp

Learn from the past
Rise up from the depths
Climb the stairway
Step by step

Like a Phoenix
Reborn from the ash
Ignite a new flame
Shine with a brilliant flash
Eleni Jul 2019
And we slowly sink into this marbled universe
Touched and towed by many asteroids.

We are the dust and gas from those nebulas.
We are the blue, green and purple travellers.

Who knows whether we become stars
Or melt into the crawling and smothering mud:

which cleanses life to begin renewal.
jayebird Jun 2019
After all i've earned them
the subtle pull
and swift replacement,
    the golden gain gifted
     from a soul dentist
I accept the strange medicine and sense
Suddenly my core forever
chasing the great
sulfur in circles as I fall adrift
    The wanting sleep which
     closes all eyes after end of sky
Behind mine observes a screen of
Out-knocked teeth and offput blood
Pft out in a porcelian sink
The glass just above
displays swollen
  tears and my
Soul transforming from
Learned lead and
cold iron into
August and
Nothing bleak like my
Now unique two front
It takes awhile but
I have a new smile at me
Twist the
Brass doorknob upside down
on it's axis and
Walk away from the abuse cycle owning
The tired metal middle
of earth cracking
Outer mold revealing a
Levitating ball of God who
Now unbound
Seeks six-thirty post midnight
High plains and
Holy painted solace
With bruises yellowing
I scream drive
into tunnels where the
warm streetlights racing in
my periphery
know I am the glowing go of life
And will never grow old despite
Losing a couple given ones
This is a vague story about someone who had their two front teeth knocked out by a punch from someone close to them, and now has two golden teeth. It is a poem about accepting their self as beautiful and worthy after an abusive relationship. It is about renewal and resplendant transformation. The subjects perspective has also expanded past their story and looks to the sky and universe for their source of love. I hope this inspires anyone who has been through physical abuse and knows the struggle of finding their peace again.
jayebird Jun 2019
A safe place for me is
Behind the scribbles of my surroundings
Below the noise and talk
To wrap it up and put it away
Is a gift I can own, no guilt
No games, only immersing my body in the whitest sheets imaginable
With a touch of hair and
A lemon juice smile
A push of my hips and
Seeing my eyes out
What more could I ask for this while
Except more secrets
A whisper, a flame
A pillow with color
A mirror with no reins
Reflecting the plant alive in the corner and
Knowing I am not insane
I'm sitting on carpet and
feeling the ceiling through
My skin, precious like skin
Yet so filmy and thin
And if you should ask
I don't grave it I cool it and
Taste like fresh cucumber rain
I don't feed pain anymore, I just
Let it go again and again
With the blades turning
Watching the blame returning
I send it off with a love spree
Then it's silent in me and
I am free with only
one foot off the ground
Edward Allen Jun 2019
Restraint,
Shackles,
How blinding,
Words of sincere certainty,
And honest hopes unfounded,
To utter power,
Bound within my head,

Intoxicating, enchanting,
Electric, within tension,
Possibility and imagination,
Fluid beyond mention,
Hidden, insidious undertow,
Beneath kind, genuine intention,

How blurried, how quiet,
How secret, how afraid,
How sudden… in a moment,

Changed.
Crushed.
Removed.

Darkness and devastation.
The weight of despair.
Within a chasm of disbelief.

It all seems unreal,
Unhinged, unraveled
Undone, unwhole,

Pieces.
In a swirling tempest of dust,
Twisting, turning, overwhelming,
Broken, fading, lost.

Slowly… gravity… and time...
Patient grains of sand run dry,
Fears, disappointment, and doubt,
Tears, running down, and running out,

Searching for some feeling,
For something lost, long ago,
A speck of light, a star within,
A pulsing, rhythmic flow,

A new chance to look inside,
Revelation, in a blinding glare,
What once disappeared beyond notice,
Now an imminent state of repair.
This poem is written from the perspective of a person who has their heart unexpectedly broken. At the beginning of the poem the person sees that something isn't quite right... but they are enchanted with love and limerence, and they can't see the insidious warning signs. Then it hits, and they go through the stages of disbelief, grief, and ultimately begin renewal of the heart and soul.

Notice how the flow of the poem reflects the person's emotional state at each point. Initially when things are questionable, the words have a haphazard syllabic flow and rhyme scheme, so representing the dissonance between what the speaker hopes and wants the situation to be, versus a different reality. When things then go badly, the words become sharp and staccato. The rhyme scheme is non-existent, as everything is has gone wrong for the speaker. But then the words begin to flow a little more easily.  The rhyme scheme gains presence and sounds more pleasant. By the end, the speaker is finally seeing the silver lining of it all, and realizes it's time to heal.

Notice some of the wordplay, like "Electric, within tension", which can phonetically could also be "with intention" -- both applicable, and with subtle but important difference in meaning. There are also some double meanings, such as "To utter power", which can mean powerful words and also mean the subject has the utmost power over the speaker.
eleanor prince May 2019
some seconds
sear and brand
creating Self

no matter drive
to carve new
persona

early stain
rears serpent
head

heel bruised
sets timer
ticking

his demise
rebellion has
a price

for trails mocked
to mountain top
pristine snow

rivers fuelled
brashly strong
diverted

birth
pathways
forged

straight to
waiting
sea
Whatever we have been handed at birth, and the vagaries of childhood and later, we have a choice to pursue a quest to re-create the Self to something better.  References are to the universal battle, reflected to some extent in our daily decisions, as per Gen 3:15 where the representative of Good is 'bruised in the heel,' and the personification of Evil awaits his final end, being 'bruised in the head.'  Only then will 'heaven and earth' unitedly attain its full relief of peace and happiness, along with true and enduring fulfillment.
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