Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Arcassin B May 2018
By Arcassin Burnham


The heavens could not see the poverty stricters.
The Heavens could not see the one percenters.
The heavens could not see the astral projectors.
A man has to be what he is and go through this ******* with
geo storm weather,
where does your purpose come from?
Do you have a future goal on what you wanna be , something that you elevate from?
easy to be ridiculed for the passion of ignorance,
the negative wins thats why the world preferenced,
especially in race,
I love every race just as much as you do, If its hate in your mind,
then you can do you,
A man has to be what he is,
a God fearing man with more or less to give,
even all the weight he can lift,
There's not enough men in this world to make a woman feel like she
needed to live,
but must never ever ever forsake our gift , curious  to know
and wondering if,
wondering if,
  The heavens could not see the poverty stricters.
The Heavens could not see the one percenters.
The heavens could not see the astral projectors.
A man has to be what he is , better get it together.
©abpoetry2018

http://abpvalley.blogspot.com/2018/05/no-guns-in-valley-lp.html
Arcassin B May 2018
By Arcassin Burnham


She murdered my soul , it manifested into flowers.
cheap cologne I got for Christmas the following week.
I used to draw so many portraits of a face that'll never
have flapping lips engraving on my tomb stone for
someones amusement lying to myself like I didn't give
a **** but I did and it hard enough to let you go even
for a minute , it was written that one day i see your face
again and I won't have my soul taken from the way you
treated me the last time and left me feeling so depressed,
I had to tell myself that your a pessimist,
just a figment of my imagination,
I use to think you were a goddess but you nearly had me fooled
like,
You wanted me to be a savage but wasn't that kind of dude like.


/

Two times , the surprise in your eyes,
there's a world for each pupil.

Stars will align , within a weeks time,
I swear that everything is neutral.

Head , first
in , to,
life,
itself,
life itself , life itself,
stop running home,
you don't need your wealth,
need your wealth , need your wealth,
cause all the people , the people,
they just wanna be notice in this time of agony,
yeah the people , the people,
they don't want all your city folk or your pity...

Most people , don't like strings that attach,
but like who needs time for love.

but most sheeple, don't like seeing the real,
to find out what lies above.

Head , first
in , to,
life,
itself,
life itself , life itself,
stop running home,
you don't need your wealth,
need your wealth , need your wealth,
cause all the people , the people,
they just wanna be notice in this time of agony,
yeah the people , the people,
they don't want all your city folk or your pity.
©abpoetry2018

http://abpvalley.blogspot.com/2018/05/no-guns-in-valley-lp.html
PatrickHertveld May 2018
Use words
As your swords
To cut any border
Of any many
Use words to give birth
To everything worth
Speak words out
An action no doubt
You always said,
Actions speak louder than words,
But words do mean something.

Words are the language of my heart,
Words can build me up,
Or tear me apart.
Yours in particular.

Actions speak louder than words,
But without words,
There would be no speaking at all.

~Robert van Lingen
Words do, mean something.
lia jay May 2018
words.
we speak them,
but do we always mean,
what we speak?

words.
they can brighten,
but, they darken as well.

words.
they are complicated.
is it easier just to not,
speak at all?

(l.j.t.)
Mary-Eliz May 2018
Opera's something I can take or leave
some I don't really much like
perhaps were I multi-lingual
they'd be more apt my fancy to strike

some I don't really much like
if I knew just what they were saying
they'd be more apt my fancy to strike
I wouldn't mind going and paying

if I knew just what they were saying
opera would speak more to my soul
I wouldn't mind going and paying
its beauty I then would extol

opera would speak more to my soul
if the story I could unweave
its beauty I then would extol
And opera I could take, not leave
adriana Apr 2018
we both knew that we were in deep.
we knew before it even started.
actually, we're not even that deep.
only six feet under the ground.
prematurely dead and overly tortured.
both feet in the grave.
both with one hand over our eyes.
both with one hand over our mouths.
by the time we saw, there was nothing left to see.
by the time we spoke, no one could hear.
we were just that deep.
just deep enough that we can't go back.
Bryce Apr 2018
I load my silver tongue with brass
crass and hollowed-points may be my nature
**** my thoughts, take aim
and with plosive sputter,
sling my brain
with metal hatred

Fling my words in forked contention,
misattribute my cold-hearted intentions,
with passion a fervor holds convection,
'Till pride produce the bituminous heavens

But still,
with marksman's gaze will you free my lies,
your scope of view between the ghostly sights
and trigger a sensationalist enterprise
for which all my lies will bleach
From red to white,
Tartarous sheen

There are words severed from man,
and as they hang their heads for the guillotine,
has any body stopped to ask,
"What do they mean"?

But the wheel cannot cease revoluting,
just as the rifle cannot beget its shooting,
Without the fatal trace of careful phrase,
fingered around the triggered maze
These words will fly
hot metal and lye
Awash the ****** floor of dissident
and acidic representation

Till all the light of spoken rhyme,
will dine upon the littered flames
Forgotten Pages Apr 2018
I offered you a poem
Hoping it would help you see
The words too proud to speak aloud
A more authentic me

You didn’t need to like it
Never asked you to pretend
I chose to share my heart to bare
To my kind and lovely friend

You skimmed the lines so quickly
Crumbled paper on the floor
And with a glance cast it askance
Claiming poetry a chore

Through the careless criticism
Silence broke my soul apart
I became aware that you don’t care
About the contents of my heart

And so I learned my lesson
Closed our pre-poetic door
And as for sharing souls, my friend
The words they are no more
Next page