Carly 2h

I want to go...
My only problem is...
I just can’t stay away.


Always on the run,
running from everything.
Never pleased, never happy,
just lost in your own way.
Can't sleep, cant breath;
everything is pushing in.
Everything seems to be gone while your
stuck in the wind.
Stuck in your own mind.

all of the stories we have,
a beginning, middle, end,
but we got lost chapter one

Dull throbbing twilight.
I bit my tongue so
hard it bled.
A voice spoke:
said she'll be in Europe,
I will be in Europe.

this moment alone
to hide behind the earth.

Pain as an open door,
forward motion encouraged.
Written word repeated today:
begin your year.    
Robed in fluid, and in hurt,
obsequious dead
In dusted pillars rise.

An object held motionless by the sun’s gaze.
A vital outpouring of stillness,
as ninety degrees of intensifying steps
                            cascade like waterfalls.

© A H Butler

Tick Tock, Tick Tock,
The Clocks sang all night
Its melody clear
And very near
It hit the stroke of midnight,

I walked through the empty hallways
Each room is a passage, to another hallway
The hallways were always endless
Yet the end was never closer,

Every step I took
A second clicked Tick
While every second I took
A piano key locked,

I stood tight to my grounds
Afraid of the next tick
Yet there was this familiar voice
That peaceful voice that told me: Pick
Forward is your only choice,

"Oh come my dear
My dear darling child
Don't be afraid
I'm very near,"
Sung a deep voice
Erupting from each end,

I was lost
I had lost my path
Yet that voice pulled me closer
Forward, and into a black bath,

"Don't be shy, I'm very nice,"
The winds whispered in my ears,
I shivered under their touch
Yet I covered my fears
As I never really cared that much,

I walked through the hallways
My curiosity pushing me further
Unheeding my mother's laws
And walking into the dawn of hell,

I stepped into a vast ballroom
It was dark, gothic, and held the smell of evil
Yet it contained a knight
No other than the beautiful man
In a suit of white,

"The time is ticking,
Your soul needs to be freed,"
Whispered the clock
As it shook with greed,

I shuddered at the sudden cold
The piano had stopped its rhythm,
A man walked up to me
His essence, which smelt of wisdom
Surrounded me like a sea,

I was too stunned to move
I wanted to run
Yet my feet didn't approve
Like a dream that had just begun,

"Come to daddy now
Don't be so hard to ease,"
Obeying his words, I walked underneath his tree
It felt like a string was pulling me
Yet it was his orders to please,

"What's my name my darling bee?"
He asked, chuckling as he awaited my flee,
"Lucifer," I whispered as I shuddered from he,

He hugged me tight
As if some force was going to pull me away
"Oh my baby blooming clock
You were supposed to alarm the world
And wake the people up!"

But as the sun crept out
And the light came fluttering in
He suddenly disappeared,
I held nothing in my arms but sin,

I thought it was a dream
Yet I stood with lost speech
In the magnificent golden ballroom
The bed far from my reach,

Tick tock, tick tock,
"Where am I?"
I whispered, spinning around the room
Allowing my gown the freedom to fly,

"You're inside me,"
Whispered the clock, that hung upon the wall,
"That's impossible, this must be a dream!"
I exclaimed, as I touched the gleaming numeric floor,

"You're immortal, remember that
Your father created you
So hold onto your hat
For if what they say is true
You are the new prized

Then I remembered
It all made sense
The everlasting element of fire
Resides inside of me,

I'm bound to earth
Nothing can kill me
Yet I am imprisoned
By the chains of purity,

Trapping me, my father's only clock
To awake the humans
And help Earth's wonders unlock!

Oh my clock
Oh my latchkey
When will I
Ever be free?

My father weeps
Every day and night
Every precious tear
Hopeless yet crystal clear,

The time flies as fast as a spear
Yet as slow as a falling tear,
I'll never be freed
Not until the clock skips a million years,
And until then
I shall be stuck on this sphere.

I'm an Atheist but I like imagining fantay like scenes.
ace Jan 9

perhaps it was that little motion
one singular word read
perhaps it was the endless
click clack of the keys
whatever it was
my mind’s stuck
for whatever reason,
individual thought cannot sprout
for the time being,
i attempt poems with no metaphors
poems with no style
bland and unappealing,
but at least they’re poems
i wait for the return of my
creative plants
maybe they are not in season
and i must wait for them again
i read and write
but with no purpose behind them
no drive or spark
to paint the pictures that i wish to express
weeds of static have taken place
of my storytelling and imagery flowers
they sprout in the wrong places
they do not let me think
i have trapped myself in this position
subconsciously forcing my mind back into
submissive monotony
maybe tomorrow
i will be unstuck

writer's block can be horrible

let these waves pull in my hurt

only for it to be

washed upon your shores

marooned in this island of


Katie Read Jan 7

I think I might be drowning?
Frowning and crowning myself a queen, because that's what I'm told I am.
I am by all intents and purposes; human in the flesh.
I've seen love and labour lost too many times,
I've seen cost and favour tossed to one side.
I'm a lean, mean regurgitating machine.
I give out party favours like I'm frightened to bite the hand that feeds.
I'm a photocopy of my own originality,
With the PERSONALITY of tracing paper.
I look in the mirror and marvel at myself growing thicker,
My imagination getting thinner,
My appreciation depreciating at the very thought of my dinner.
What can I eat but calories on a stick?
Each mouthful a new trick conjured by someone trying to tease me, Ease me into a wobbling lump,
A frump,
A place where they can dump their new ideas and findings,
Their light bulb moments so blinding they lead people like me to their deaths.
Because what do I need but another mouth to feed?
The mouth in my brain that's desperate for instruction,
DESTRUCTION of its cells.
Each thought more macabre than the last as I dissect the absolute FARCE that has become my identity.
I am by all intents and purposes human in the flesh.
A sack full of bones and DNA,
Of which, so they say, differ from body to body.
And yet I'm a clone of everyone I've known because everyone's left Their imprint on me.
I may not have wanted it but I had no choice,
No voice,
No ability to say no.
Because I couldn't find the right words to dictate what I wanted to say.
My tongue wouldn't move in an articulate way,
So I forgot how to speak.
And now I find myself silenced; a mute of imagination,
A lack of creation,
Practically a crustacean- I'm a mere shell of what I once was.
Which brings me back to drowning.
In waters so harsh but land is so sparse how do I get back?
Because creativity is the building blocks of humanity without we are Lost out to sea.

i can't sit still
i can't lay down
i can't sleep

there is no time for rest
there is no time for play
there is no time

there is so much i must do
there is so much i must do
there is so much i must do

what i've done is not good enough
what i've done is not enough

i have to do more
i'm so tired but i have to do more

no sleeping
i'll sleep when i've done what i must do

i don't know what i must do
but i know i have to do it
whatever it is
and then i'll be content, right?


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