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Umi Apr 2018
All present in the stream of time,
Connected they build a line, a river which flows uninterruptedly,
The here and now, is the future of a pasts dream, a wonderous reality,
It is the futures past, the memories recorded within the depths of it
Gravity distorts time, causing it to slow down till it's stopping point lensed from a black hole, lurking within shadows of remorse in space,
Fished out from the sea of passing events, it keeps flowing, but now it does so while not including the fallen one who embraced a blackhole,
Time only knows one path, straight ahead with no slips and turns,
The present is the pasts future and what was thought to be possible,
It is the little wealth every living being possesses yet it is overseen and forgotten, until the moment of ones death drives gladly near,
From the womb to the tomb, drowning within the waves of a temporal lengh, the event of an entity's existence and its period.
A pace for an allotment, given from the complaints of an worldly life,
Spend it well, unlike the spring we cannot turn the tide, recycle again!
But for that matter the world of dreams holds a sweet embrace to all,
After all, you don't need to die in a dream.

~ Umi
W Winchester Mar 2018
1) I want one thing from you:

Love, attention, love & attention
Pay attention to my love

2) I want nothing from you

No love, no care, no attention
Leave me grinning and bare

3) I don't want you

Your heart is too full,
there is no room for me

4) I want your best

Say "no", I dare you
Give to me gifts
Give to me YOU

5) I want one thing from you

Deny Me Nothing
freewrite
Dan White Jan 2018
Slowly I walk towards the wall. Someday, somehow, some say, we will all face him. He is not me, not like the one I imagined but instead a reflection of a fragment that has disappeared ages ago. And I know one thing for sure: long before my first and last breath, everyone is here.

A last stand… Beckoning.

A blurry scene collapses like a rose’s thorn crushed by a hammer, and it’s heaven. Fresh air breezes throughout the field like a thousand winters summoned  in a hot air balloon; one pop, and it might burst.

Instead it dies.

Blackness fades into nothingness as light bends darkness when desperateness serves greatness. A tiny yet almost invisible terrifying spot of delight. All will come true and limits are met only when reaching the neverending centre again and again.

The concentric circle.

Never have I felt this much euphoria as time feels decay; the process of giving and taking, for eternity. And never have I dreamed so much desolate fueled nightmares until tonight. A night to remember for the ages as ages tend to burn with backwards conspiracy.

A feast for the new millennium.

Tragic meets company as destiny embraces chaos when a tall figure stands opposed to a small ocean vessel. Waving fiercely, with strong arms. Screaming against the absence of light. But not tonight, not anymore. Maybe never, yet always.

The destined traveller.

Always wandering but never here as the room grows from specs to pyramids; standing great and longing connate justice. Ever towering, never to look down, yet always pondering. In spite of desire, thirst is not quenched, however the stalactite still grows slowly.

The remains.

Nothing is sacred and with the fidelity of strangeness interwoven its frontier is bubbling with the force of insecurity; the final pillar of a marble treehouse. Leaning. Never to leave, never to stay, but always here.

Forever.
A allegorical stream of consciousness concerning different aspects of (my) life.
shaynespeare Feb 2018
waters have turned to bling
those voices started to sing
waves took me somewhere new
and that's where i met you
Jord Feb 2018
I'm coming right back,
straight to the mist.
Life within the confines of relation.
The city in my new land surrounds my thought -

my eyes open. - awake in my world.
Aware of intent is the general lustful idea and, perhaps,
as usual, I'm humiliated through impatient decisions.

Luck stays as he chooses.
To be truthful, I have become fond of his nature,

yes, I am alone in my thoughts.

Throughout the day,
we seem to meet back up in a shadow.
Blank pages appears in faces across from me

- It is true that in his world you are the Earth's shadow. -

Friendships blossom from a choice made by my lingering friend.
He is truly as free as I think I am.
From true darkness inside of you is where he pulls his ink.
He teaches a lesson of isolation as well as your history class,
but in fact, we are all he has to occupy his time. Actually,
he exists because of you.
He resides between your eyes to show you as he likes.

Fear hinders; drained of potential is not his purpose.
Despite the inconsistencies, I do not mind the trade-off.
Both he and I find peace of mind in chaos
girl diffused Feb 2018
Just the frenzied need to get it out
Just the raw feeling
No anesthesia
No anesthesia
How I'm the rotting tooth you cut out of your mouth
How I'm the stinging paper cut that you slapped a Band-Aid on
How I'm blank paper
How I'm all blank slate
How it meant nothing
How I can't slip the shoes on now because it reminds me of wearing them around you
How I keep them in the closet
“You'll know I got them for you”
A “think of it as a memento, every time you look at it”
No hesitation

The beat-up heather gray Ellen DeGeneres shoes you bought for me
Unmarred and untouched
How the card still resides in the bedside drawer
Or didn't think about the card you got for me
But did that anyway
Bashfully admitted that you normally didn't do that
Twined your fingers around mine,
Or how you eventually held my hands,
Because you never did it
Or think about how you'd hold me after ***
Because you never said it,
How it was during an ******
On your tongue
Feel of it in your mouth,
And memorize it,
Or playfully say my name
Or write poetry about me
As I impressively recite your full name, down to your deceased mother's surname
As I say your name, more than my own
Or try to recall the sound of my voice
Or my smile
And never think once of me
And talk with your coworkers, all female
And flirt with your receptionist
And receive your paycheck
And go to work
And walk your dog
As you go about your day and pay your bills
Multiple meanings that you don't care to explore
The simplified “hey,” kind that's pithy and vague
Late-night message compositions
It's not, it's just not
Oh, **** me, it's not like last time at all
See that you don't follow me back
Send a friend request on Soundcloud
Tell myself that you won't say anything
Compose another message but leave it unsent

Lower and lower
The faint dark hairs trailing down the otherwise smooth navel
Sought my approval
Sought approval
How you asked me repeatedly, shyly, if I was okay with that
How you wanted to shed that weight
The barely-there protrusion
Memorizing the soft roundness of your stomach

Stupid little nicknames that I would **** for now
T-Money
T-Swift
Tay
Tay
Taylor
You playfully saying my name
Your lips moving,
When you coo to your Papillon
When you're talking to me over a bowl of quickly whipped up oatmeal
Encouraging me to touch myself in the ink-spilled darkness,
Murky, and blurred outline of your hand
Try to remember what your voice sounds like –when you're angrily yelling about Hearthstone

Gnash my teeth and don't realize it until ten minutes later
Get up and turn the fan so the stream of air blasts unforgiving onto my face
Toss and turn in bed—literally—throw the duvet off
Think of the shirt you were wearing in your last profile picture you had when we first started talking
The one with the dusky blue V-neck
Study your year-old profile picture that I told you looked good
Listen to music on Soundcloud
Look up jobs instead
Don't actually do it
Debate re-adding you
Look over your profile on Facebook, my secondary account
The “hey, I hope you're doing okay” kind
Late-night message compositions
Splintered and fractured
Bloodied veneer and strands of hair

Porcelain sink
We were so lonely and misunderstood
You were...
It's just a dream though, just a ******* dream
Read it forward and then once more backwards. A series of heartbreaking memories and moments in stream of consciousness. N/a.
L Perry Feb 2018
[i]

No soaring pain could match her, draped across a dying flame.
Like cinder,
                    she whisper-whistled through lungs thin, teeth sallow,
a promise in song.

“Towera jinner mulbeena,
Poodinyoober mulbeena.”
        
    It was a good promise;
    belonged to everyone
                                   and wouldn’t change for Tomorrow’s ranges.
It asked for nothing
but patience and faith.
                          From where she lay,
                                              the trees, gums, were akimbo.

[ii]

                          For generations she had walked, through the wettest of wets and driest of dries.
       With hope in her ribs and a nature savage and pure.
                     You could break her, throw her to the cockatoos,
                                                      ­And yet, ***** and punctured,
                                                 like driftwood, she would drift back,
                                                           ­                                                                Blossoming in your lap again.

[iii]

                      When the kangaroos have done their dance
                                                 in the twilight.
There she'd been.
Supine. Broken open and
lily-white (on the inside).

                                                  
    ­                                        and we did this.
                            with our prospecting and land grabbing

                                      we did this,
                      with our parking lots and Starbucks cup

         she was dismembered, priced, "loved," owned.
                    
                                     discarded.
                                            to the meek edge
                                       of an eternal flame ****** to embers.
Adapted from the last chapter of the novel "Coonardoo" by K. S. Prichard.
kas Jan 2018
"i bet death feels like emdless, dreamless sleep." this is the source of my near constant anxiety. I wish i knew God. i don't believe in anything. i didn't think about what that meant until after i tried to **** myself. endless, dreamless sleep. maybe there are dreams, few and far between. feels like nothing. imagine nothing. i exist, feel these things, take up space, die and feel nothing nothing nothing. but then the infrequent dreams become more. constant lucid dreams where the neon sky vibrates and the entire world does what i tell it to.

i am not afraid to die.
Rohan P Jan 2018
softness flows over
rocks and rivulets, jettisoning
the clouding embraces of treetops,
holding the modulating fog on brushed canvases:
away, floating away, currents of love.
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