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goodtea Apr 7
Flowers crawl up
Pushing aside dirt,
What was once a
Heavy weight
Now the support we
Plant our roots on
Dig deep
Until we bloom.
wrote this while helping run a group so don't let people think you can't multitask.
b Mar 20
i am deep in a story i have
been in before and i
******* hate sequels.

i have once again found
love in the wrong place;
a very good friend of mine.

loving your best friend feels
a lot like putting down your dog,
the eyes always look the same
and you'll never be able to
tell her why it had to
die in the first place.
Sophie Katherine Jul 2018
Still stuck behind the glass wall
There’s no use in getting out
No use in communicating
The people on the other side have given up, too
I slump down to the floor in a state of defeat
Resting my head on my knees
I feel a knocking on the glass
I turned my head
A smile grew on my face
Someone like me!
Someone that understands!
I could tell in his eyes
He was behind a glass wall, too
“Do you feel my heart saying hi?”
A bond formed
From nothing else
But our life behind those glass walls
I reached through the glass
And took his hand
I’m no longer alone
I attempted a continuation (ooooooh) of a poem I wrote called Glass around a month ago

the best conclusion I can give without really giving away the intended meaning of the metaphor is that it’s really good to find someone that can relate to you :’)
Sha Jun 2018
Silence and space. We have now mastered the trick. And we are living it. No cues. No dramatic transitions or face-slapping moment.
Dead air is not even awkward.
The parlor games are busted.
It just happened one Tuesday morning inside Starbucks after you ordered your iced Americano and my vanilla frappuccino, no whipped cream,

Maybe there's a sequel to this story, but for now, we should roll the credits.
Too saddest to tell you
today on this First Day of Spring
my Daddy has his Birthday
he cannot sing
not today nor tomorrow
you'll ask me why?
decennia ago he suddenly died
not of any stroke nor heart-ache
just wanna remember
that Today just One Day after the Northward Equinox
he'd have his celebrations
never congratulations anymore now
not today nor tomorrow
this is not a poem
just a statement
a human document
of one of the most gifted fathers
aquarelles, poetry or feuilletons
even performances at William's Theatre
his weekly sequels of the loving
and living Charlie Chan
besides earning much money
as the top-manager
of STANVAC, Jakarta
that big oil-office
with the red Pegasus
my Daddy climbed its back
and never returned
remembering his Birthday
emotionally on his epitaph
how odd
The Start of Spring
One Day Before his BirthDAY
the annual Northward Equinox
has just passed his graveyard
keep smiling is not here today
but grieving will be okay
he'd be no more a part of all celebrations
even though where he now is
he remains my Dearest Daddy and all there is
I remain,  still with the greatest admiration

and his part of heart
still beats in mine....

Anno Domini 21 March 2018
No Daddy, this is NOT A POEM
just a simple statement from your darling daughter
a greatest lost, this multitalented father
BlancaNigrida Feb 2018
Fire and pain and sorrow behind me,
A soul in my knapsack they didn't want me to have.
   I hear shouts from behind the wall I've broken,
     I can't let them get me again.
      A light, a song, a passion for me
        Lying just beyond the boundary.
      They shoot me down and I bleed tears,
     But I emerge, my loot intact.
   But I emerge, body busted and broken.
But I emerge.
Sequel to 'A Plea To My Captor'
Vale Luna Sep 2017
I’m becoming blurry
When I look at myself in the mirror
And I’m beginning to see
His face through mine
Instead of mine
Like my body is disappearing into His
Like if He wasn’t there
I’d be completely invisible

Now I can’t get rid of Him.

Or I just don’t want to
Because I don’t want to vanish
Into thin air
And be another ghost
Wandering the streets
I want to be seen
Even if His eyes
Are piercing through mine
Even if the world is clouded because of it

Every time I blink
My life seems to get a shade darker
Until everything is disfigured
From His pupils over mine
And anything bright
Seems out of place
Forcing my eyelids back shut
Until the dark returns

It’s funny
That after I’ve been with someone
For so long
I become more and more like them
With Him
It’s no different
I chose to let Him stay with me
And as a consequence
I’m fading into Him

It sounds cliche
That maybe I need Him to survive
Maybe I’d lose my identity without Him
Maybe I’d be nothing…
Maybe I’m too afraid
To let go
And find out

He’s given me a reason to live
And a need to die
But who am I to turn Him away?

I wonder
If I’ll ever truly be able
To see myself in the mirror again
Or if I’ll forever
Be looking through His eyes.
Mystic904 Sep 2017
Soul: (to the deceiver)
Tis' not a whining contest
hiding that tongue of the ******
forgot, couldn't get more honest
Now go and come back in August

Deceiver: (to the soul)
Nowhere are you going with that
******* on you, my devilish cat
eventually will I control the brat
simple is that, not a problem of Sat

Good,Good! Do what you want
swaying towards hell is what you want
funny! something even you don't want
you dear, are nothing but filled with haunt

So now you're too gonna mock
once was I the most valuable stock
all were under the reputation of my sock
then fell down to a crow from a Hawk

Soul: (to the self)
Work, bring to feet the crime
poetry isn't worth a dime
Listen, listen! It's pray time
Eternal's gold better than fake lime
Deceiver gets slammed ;)
Well, this is the end to it. Maybe I'd come up with more some other time. It was fun to write it. Enjoy
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