Zan Balmore Mar 27

Objection

Bankrupt blood pulses
and always has through my veins

Objection

Gender-fukt oblivion
alone rises into view

I'll never be the dollar's friend
Paper will not be mine

Objection

Bad upraising
I'll raise up worse

...
aniket nikhade Mar 15

Missed a few steps while climbing up,
only a few,
however still felt in the same way like it use to feel prior.
Still felt a stumble is better than a fall

Paused for a while
Thought for sometime
Then continued towards destination with only one change in mind
One step at a time till the destination is reached upon.

Bottom line remains the same,
never repeat the same old mistake
Never do anything in haste or in rush of blood
Slow and steady wins the race.

Few things have changed while in present
Few still seem to be the same
Present is what will decide how to set priority according to available time.

Never think of an uncertain future while in present in terms of short term gains
Often in life it's learnt from one's own experience that success has got no short cuts and hence only one step at a time.

Viktoria Feb 23

Way too speculatious
That's how I'm used to be
I feel like passing weeks
Stole me some energy

I question myself
My thoughts
Everything
Because of what
He said
Because of him

I try to discover the truth
But all I am doing is hiding
I need to climb up a roof
To escape the walls
Which are blinding

I used to believe
In a set of rules
With different maxima
That brought me relief
I used to realize
That I can always choose
I don't know how
This all I could lose

Probably I saved it
In the back of my mind
Behind the part
That I'm trying to hide

Oh that's the solution
It possibly is
I have to let go
The things
I won't miss

I have to accept
Me - the way I am
I have to move on
And not to hold on

Confusion's a product
Of indecisive moods
That's how I take
This problem by its roots

I have to make decisions
Because they count
I have to choose
And not to doubt

Set my spirit free
Hang me from a tree
Sing a song to me
Open my eyes to see
I need a simple reminder
Dont forget to be
Dont forget to breathe
Dont forget to believe
There is real peace
Stagnant waters have ease
Waking up from a deep sleep
Save my soul please

Love carries a set of confronts and surprises
Whosoever encounters them sees all naked
Beauty in entirety with all its different images
Can be explored by a lover zealous and avid

My beloved let me be with you in severe cold
On the top of a mountain in a hut to celebrate
Every moment of love with the way it is told
Let enjoy the weather of love being  associate

My survival is just dependent on your attitude
Let me take you in arms with never lasting love
Be liberal in extending charity do not be rude
I love you ,I love you my innocent sweet dove

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

Jake Thomas Shaw Dec 2016

Sitting by the river
Two hands in the dirt
On the bank's slope
Watching trees in the breeze

Out of so many
Late nights
Ink points were
Mistaken for spears

Gold in the water glitters
Snow-melting sunspots glisten
Day rises to grace rock formations
And the great mountain's faces

Bladed pens on staffs are tied
In forever winter forest's stride
Moccasins protect footpads in shade
From inked paper's unfightable fade

Roll with the presses
Open hostilities
To reclaim command
Take empires inland

Our ancestor Miller
To survive hereafter
In pressings of paper
And bladed pen drapers

Robes and scrimshaws
Hoods and fur pelts
Leather cord tethers
Mythic bird feathers

All atop robes and dusters
Lying in wait, sprawled astir
Observing changes in luster
Aware now to ambush voyagers

Tints change in tribe simulacrum
A clear mistake on the pretty painting
It'll be fixed
With bladed pen serum

After we materialize
From hidden camp's caning
We rise from the winter
To keep our land's proper shading

Part of a set with Castle Crags Montagne, Prowl Wrapt Scrimshaw Club, They Dwell, and Old Blood.
SATAN'S GIRL Dec 2016

I remember leaving the car and walking towards you...
My heart was pounding,
and my thoughts were blurry.
I have goosebumps remembering how I felt then and how I still feel now...
I'm ecstatic, you always solve my heart's quadratics.

I'm happy with you, and you're happy with me. Sorry if I make no sense, I'm about to sleep.
Silence Screamz Aug 2016

Your temper breaks the silence of the air
Ear shattering sounds emit violently toward me
One step, two steps closer ..not another step, please
I become deaf to the time

Rolled up fists, cocked and ready
Eyes bulging red with disdain
I hear the hissing sound of the steam kettle
I become crossed by the pressure inside

Lives are threatened by the pain you toss
Nothing to resort to but angry seams
I am being pushed to the brink by you
I become numb to the edge

I have counted the half seconds to fear itself
They mean nothing to me anymore
I am scared to face the reality of it all
I became the target of your aggression

Very true and dark time... my current mindset ...lost in reality, don't know what to do
LycanTheThrope Jul 2016

Earlier today, my script was brought to life and shot on set.  Of course I was nervous, but everything went well even though we were pressed for time near the end of the shoot. My actors and actresses were fantastic, and I could not have asked for a better cast. I don’t think I could thank them enough for their efforts and they achieved much more than what I had hoped.  

     Even though the stress of shooting my film was gone by mid-evening, something someone had said to me earlier would not rid my mind.  I became restless and felt confided in my dorm; I needed a distraction.  Even though I could hear laughter just a few doors down as my hall had gathered for some “bonding event”, I opted to just be alone.

    I went outside, despite a slight drizzle that had snuck into the sunny day. I walked around campus and settled myself on the very right-end of an empty parking lot, just listening to music.  The sun had begun to dip down into an orange haze, setting the atmosphere blazing with yellows and greens.  It was simply astounding to see the city respond to the fading sun.  Cars went on their way home and the buildings lit up, incandescent lights shining much differently than the one burning in the sky.

      I sat and I watched, feeling content yet empty in a way I could never put into words.  There were so many things that took on a whole new form of life in the evening, how people spent their time as though it was through new meaning. Just to the left of me, I watched a couple slow dance to no music, just the light of the setting sun and the slow falling of rain.  I can honestly say that it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, and I was captivated as her teenage clothes still spun just as elegant as a dress.  It was something you saw in movies, and the simplicity of it made it more cherish able.  

     The sun dipped down, disappearing beneath the clouds and the orange beams went with it.  My mood suddenly shifted as the two was casted with more of a blue light, and I felt more as an intruder than an on-looker sharing in a blissful moment.  I quickly looked away from them and back to the city.

      As the evening strewn into night, the last few rays etched faces into the sky-scrapers, and I doubt I will ever see a man-made object illuminated in such natural beauty. I wanted to watch the clouds fade into the darkening sky, but I felt as though a bit of privacy for the couple held more importance.

      While I stared at the ground, I couldn’t help but think that if I was as careless with my footsteps as I was with my steps in life, then I for sure wouldn’t end up worth while.  I then looked up to view the path ahead of me, and saw a stunning rainbow had somehow drifted into the sky without my notice.  I sat on a concrete wall near the library until it faded.
  
      A fair amount of time had passed so I begun to walk back to the now-deserted parking lot.  The sun was completely gone by now, and the only source of light felt fake and over-bearing.

     Just off of the parking lot was an uncut and untidy field in which three people ran about, waving sparklers in the night air.  It was gratifying to see people older than I acting with a carefree spirit. I observed the three lighting sparkler after sparkler, chasing each other with untroubled laughter. Once more I felt an aching in my chest, but it was a beautiful kind of pain. I felt as though I was intruding on someone’s privacy again, so I headed back to my dorm.

    I couldn’t help but write about what occurred tonight, and I highly doubt I will ever experience anything like it again. I certainly won’t forget about it anytime soon.

Sun Set
James Gable Jun 2016

this poem is a note on the fridge,
written in a passive aggressive language,
and it is valid humour when reading out the note
once more in social situations
to read it as if you have a grape in your throat

this poem is usually a rash decision
the typewriter can’t be…but it looks pissed off—
writing should be easier than this
I should have visions to draw from
and an imagination to explore

something like sand should be forming words
in my written hand like it did before,
when restraint was what was so badly called for


this poem is a girl I have met and
I bet she has conquered my sorry mind
with battleship magnificence and I, surrendering
at the very first instance of an instant

my pacifist stance has always been
consistent with my fragile optimism
I have a fondness, I have come to learn,
for chance encounters that grow
into the holding of hands
and the mounting of tension

there are mountains,
I’ve mentioned their beauty
in poems revisited since,
but now they blush and ask
who is this you have brought
to our seat in the skies?
observing the intensity
of her avalanche eyes,
and her craggy wisdom,
she was wearing a sort of deerstalker hat...


we visited the library together and read
in reading chairs side by side
this poem is a lamplight conversation and an apology
to Edgar Allen, for we laughed at his prose,
and I pretended to agree in seeing no value
do you see how I simply must be smitten?
(also because this is the worst poem I’ve ever written)

this is, as a poem, a miss/failure, about
a Miss, or perhaps Ms. I met, I miss her
I want to sit with her and her ridiculous portrait of Nietzsche
in a location [insert one here later] with potential for romance

I would relocate a knuckle,
dislocate my awkward self
and let’s drown in the quiet of the lake,
or almost drown, or almost fall in love
and almost climb to the very top of a tree

and almost spend every hour
in the comfort of what you believe


this poem is a kiss on the bridge and all
symbolic meaning that can be drawn from
bridges does not apply, we kissed on a
drawbridge when the drawbridge went up
and we zipped through the city in paper aeroplanes
kept warm by paper coats
and we have floated on lakes in paper boats

we crash landed and were shipwrecked
in the strangest and most unfamiliar places

once, mapless, beautifully hapless, we wandered
lost for hours straight,
when she recognised Community Square,
the sleeping butterfly
I keep in my heart—

    shifted its
     weight...

Next page