Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ry Nov 17
It is not that I have the urge to run away,
I just have the urge to run toward anywhere but
where I am.
Sequoia has called my name for lifetimes now and
I have ignored it’s siren song for far too long.

Emotions are like stepping stones.
Some are loose and long to be unearthed
while others are stubborn, jagged, and lingering.

In Sequoia, the trees are to be trusted.
Their reliable roots grip deep into mother Earth.
She holds them, limp and twig, leaf and bud.
I long for a trust like Sequoia.

Part of me is still in Oklahoma, my dorm,
shoving on shoes that will never fit.

My body is in bed,
but my mind is on an Arizona highway
searching for my soul in the blatant sun.
My mind is on a Montana mountainside
staring at the sprawl of an ancient glacier.
My mind is in my childhood home
combing through dusty boxes
for pieces of my mother before the divorce,
In New York, the MET, Gogh’s self portrait,
Illinois, Round Lake, 4th of July 2009.

My body is in bed but my mind is in Sequoia.
The trees are bigger than my ego and
The wind is nothing Oklahoma, it’s slow.

I think Heaven left a piece of itself on Earth;
I won’t tell if you don’t.
Prabhu Iyer Nov 2
Nowhere to go, no place to reach, no
path to take, nobody to please; No
journey to make, no pilgrims to seek;

At clearing in the wood and all of a sudden:
nothing to discover, nothing to unlearn; No
secret to uncover and no night to unveil;

Nameless junction where all paths meet,
and all of a sudden we know
the truth, was there all along: with us, it is us

season of renewal, when the leaves
drop baring the soul of the woods,
the night casts her cloak and the skies wink

Nowhere to go, no place to reach, no
path to take, nobody to please; No
journey to make, no pilgrims to seek;
Running low on benevolence
Waiting on a revelation
For life to be more evident
Just wanting an explanation
Life is confusing :/
Norman Crane Sep 26
Wronged figures encircle the world. Saturn's
rings of martyrdom expectant beseech
God, The pain we suffered in your Name, return
it from beyond our graves. With vengeance teach
our torment to those who made us suffer!
Impale their bodies on bolts of thunder,
Black bones and roasted flesh, they are but slurs
against Holiness. Tear them asunder!
And for us, the white robes of salvation,
And words of eternal comfort: Patience
and faith in the Lord of all creation,
whose rewards in Heaven will be immense.
All the hurt you have borne shall be lifted,
Through Him, foreverness is gifted.
Inspired by El Greco's 17th-century painting of the same name, which was in turn inspired by the Book of Revelation 6:9-11.
preston Sep 3

Aw ****,  another apology
for what it is she hasn't done
there's a coat,  wore
a done, done--

one,  never to be undone

And she'll wear it, yet can't share-it
but with something like this
it can't be helped
but, to share it

It is every where.

They say they care
so why in the ****  are you  pulling
out all your hair.
Maybe they just don't care
about anything
but what it is  you'll wear

so they don't have to.


#familylife


She scratches a letter
into a wall made of stone
Maybe someday
another child
won't have to  feel  as alone
as she does
It's been two years
and counting
since they put her in this place
She's been diagnosed

by some stupid ****
And mommy agrees.
Why go home?
Why go home?
Why go home?

She seems to be stronger
but what they want her to be,  is weak
She could play pretend
She could join the game, boy

She could be another clone

Why go home, why go home,
why go home, why go home
What you taught me
put me here
don't come visit,  mother..

sting me.
why go home?
https://youtu.be/DvijZuvEiQo
xoxo
Nalinee Aug 28
Grill
Burn a little
Superficial surfaces
Reveal the real
Flavour
A person's superficial nature must be removed to find the real one.
She
She rattles her cage
deep inside
where I hid her
so you could not touch her

This outer part,
this shell, this facade
is all you have
but not the real me

She is mine
and I am hers
the door is shut but I forgot
to turn the lock

Only a matter of time
before she busts out
to tear your world apart
and burn it down
Dante Rocío Aug 2
We don’t need Music
And how
It embodies, captivates,
To know that each other and
Ourselves have
And are a
Majesty in reverberating
As we
Drop,
Echo,
Beat,
On a country lane.
Even when no one
Is listening to
Us, Melody, or better;
a sensation of & in it,
Our silence contains
In one thought
More chords and stories
To be played than
The world’s bonding
To the audibility
Could ever do
And draw the greatness
From.

Like violin, I’m
Such honey-laced strings
In swiftness
Thinking and by lips
Browsing.

As. Like.
furious heartbeat
tremendously stands
On a thrilling stave
So do us at the sunset
As a dance.
As a thrilling epiphany
Behold
.

/
I always imagine becoming Revolution soon to come
As departure through a heather field,
Hands raised in elegant victory
Decreasing I into horizon
as lilac, blue and copper scarlet
Infused with that painting
As I sound Violin.
/

Then,
‘Am
the
greatest
art
in
every.
single.
step
.
Of the flaming presence we (or at least I)
Set in tremendous song beats
Of no words or yes.
We don’t need to hear Music
To know this upholding
Takes place in us in every minute
Glory
That we stand (of, on)
Extend your hand and pass through wind's light hairs.
Brush against the lump of a cloud and listen how it speaks of absence, its power upon the mind.
It is the revelation to solace you in the womb of water - the freedom of our kind.
Steph W Jul 2
I have something to say.
It's stuck on my lips.
The.
Lingering.
Pause.
In each wordless
Breath.
The movement in each averted gaze.

It's the shoddy cork
holding back
Each waterfall of
Tears.
The longing sign I ask God for
then ignore.
For the thing I fear most is not
Whether I say.
It's the thought  that you have
nothing to say,
back to me.
Met with silence.
Next page