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Mya Aug 2018
Sunrises are beautiful
a beautiful beginning of a new day
but sunsets are even better
and it shows that you have survived the entire day
without dieing
Julian Delia Sep 2018
Is-solitudni hija inkredibbli.
Il-pinna tirtogħod jien u nikteb,
Estensjoni tat-taħwid ta’ ġismi.
Inħossni qisni forti imwaqqa’, inaċċessibli.
Xi kultant, nitħajjar nitfa ruħi għall-irkant;
Nagħmel patt ma’ xi dB jew xi Gasan,
Jew inkella, mal-mexxej, l-aqwa negozjant.

Mhux xorta?
X’fiha billi nilqgħu il-partit f’darna?
X’jimporta?
Mhux l-aqwa li mmorru l-fosos bi ħġarna?

Iżda, mhux dak hu l-messaġġ;
Minn dil-lejla siekta, nixtieq niehu vantaġġ.
Xtaqt neżamina għalfejn ninsab waħdi;
Qiegħed id-dar b’ommi u missieri sular taħti,
Iżda, minflok ninsab hawn, magħluq f’kamarti.
Mistoħbi, bl-iskuża li qiegħed noħloq l-arti.

Sħabi kollha xogħol jew isaħħarhom xi eżami,
B’hekk, ninsab nirrifletti, b’espressjoni gravi.
Fejn tobsor, li ta’ tlieta u għoxrin
Tkun weħilt go ħabs mentali agħar minn Kordin?
Ċella magħmula mill-ħsibijiet,
Joħorgu qishom ħalba mis-smewwiet.

Tgħix b’mohh mixgħul ġo pajjiż li jħobb id-dlam
Tħossok distint daqs tazza inbid aħmar li waqgħet *** l-irham.
Xi kultant, mejjet tkun biex titfieh;
Xejn ma jirnexxilek tagħmel biex tistrieh.

_________

(in English)

The solitude is incredible.
The pen shakes as I write,
An extension of my body's agitation.
I feel like a ruined fort, inacessible.
Sometimes, I fancy putting my soul up for auction;
Strike a deal with dB or Gasan (1),
Or maybe, with our leader, the best merchant (of them all).

Is it not all the same?
So what if we let the party in our household?
What does it matter,
As long as we go to il-Fosos (2), en masse?

But, that is not the message;
Of this quiet night, I'd like to take advantage.
I wanted to examine why I'm all alone;
I'm at home, with my parents a floor below me,
Yet, I find myself here, locked in my room,
Hidden, with the excuse of making art.

My friends are either working or bewitched by an exam,
Hence, I find myself reflecting, with a grave expression.
Who would've thought, at age twenty-three
I would be stuck in a mental prison worse than Kordin (3)?
A cell made of thoughts,
That come out like a storm from the heavens.

To live with an enlightened mind in a country that loves darkness
Feels as distinct as a glass of red wine spilled on a marble tile.
Sometimes, you just wish you could switch it off;
Nothing helps to give you relief.
1 = enormous local entities that have amassed wealth through the exploitation of my country and its people.
2 = a popular spot for political mass meetings in Floriana.
3 = an area in Paola where the local prison is.
Fog-grey paint on wood…
Sentry!
Imprisons willing hostage…
Safe!
It jars - jams handle door to floor
Uterine prison seals hermetic hermit

The fawn as naked innocent born.
Cow mother forages for food…
To earn!
Boy buck lay prone; ears twitch.
Waiting to exhale.
Wolf pants foul -  
turn handle -
entry permit?

On eves gone by wolf violates fawn.
Cow mother oblivious in her providing!
Crept in!
Kneeled!
As fawn feigned sleep…
Lupus leered, licked - abused like prey

This night young deer escapes the hunt
Lays quiet, tremulous.
Wets itself!
Chair holds!
Patriarchal coward creeps back to fetid lair
Brief reprieve?
Grow strong - pray another day!

©pofacedpoetry – Billy Reynard-Bowness (2018) – All rights reserved
When the fairytale becomes the nightmare!
Logan Aug 2018
Love is the color purple
Taking the shape of welts and bruises
Left upon my arms and neck
From stern insensitive hands

Love smells like alcohol and cigarettes
That hurl their scent from your tongue
Careening into my face
Sent from your bellowing voice

Love is the fear
Of what you'll do to me today
If you find out I went to work
And showed I wasnt okay
No rhyme scheme for this poem. Wanted write seriously with no limitations on the subject of domestic abuse.
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
You got to find a way to survive
'Cause they win when your soul dies
RIP to one of the greatest rappers that ever lived, Tupac.
I stopped listening to rap music years ago, but Tupac....Tupac's the exception.
He truly was a poet with his message and music; his voice ITSELF was music.
He empowered without denouncing, he spoke about many topics.
And for that, he will always have my respect.
He's what I call a musician.
Granted, he swore, he made his mistakes but he was ahead of his time.
He was wise, he was fierce, he was so confident.
He was a solider.
'Baby, Don't Cry' will forever be in my heart, and these two lines ALONE spoke volumes to me. It still does...
I'm sorry for not being as active. My headache's gotten worse...
But indeed, in life, you need to survive. If you give up, your enemies wins and your soul dies in the process.
Be back soon!
Lyn ***



Baby Don't Cry (Keep Ya Head Up II) lyrics © BMG Rights Management US, LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc
Ayushi Gupta Aug 2018
I love it when they be harsh to me.
It makes me feel hollow.
Tender and light.
If they keep doing this.
Maybe one day, just like the birds
or those weightless feathers.
I'll be able to fly and float,
able to escape and grow.
Mystic Ink Plus Jul 2018
On my first visit
I was restless
I was put on Clonazepam
I got well
Then, he kept on that for every night

On 2nd visit I had nothing
I was there to meet him if I need to stop
He increased the dose
I started to sleep more

On 3rd visit I told
I sleep a lot
He blamed for the season
And without 2nd question
Added 2nd medicine
Telling, this will help

On casual talk
A friend of mine told,
He can’t sleep
I told it’s better to consult
Dr. Clonaz added, the same

Here we have a Pill society
We are his follow-ups
I tried to understand why he adds so often
On every 2nd prescription
Clonazepam is his Pen pill

Probably he understands why
For a good reason he adds it
For a no reason he adds it

For old age, it seems mendatory, he adds it
For young age, Dr. Clonaz don’t hesitates
To let us taste
His favorite

I wonder if the stock clears
Out of the market
What could be his new choice?

Can we survive?
Genre: Clinical Observational
Theme: Do his personal favorite cures all ailments? | No Offence
Author’s note: Beyond Neuropsychiatric
Miss Saitwal Jun 2018
They bruise their pupils with the sharp red roses.
They built in an empire with fur ruffles & sequins.
They lived with poise spark & jealousy.

Burnt yet alive,
torn yet together.
Eyes, prudent of all,
Minds, dangerous of all.

Survive, said the Father
Believe, said the Jesus
japheth Jul 2018
you’re deep underwater
you crawl up into a ball
you know the water has already went inside your lungs
but still,
you breathe.

you pray that maybe,
you’ll get used to breathing underwater
—with your eyes closed and mouth shut.
you scream so loud though only the water hears you,
doing anything but comfort you.

for the longest time,
you have felt this way
and i can’t blame you
i’ve been there too.

but i want you to open your eyes
even if all you can see is the darkness, open them.
i want you to move your arms, swim.
i want you to realize,
you’ve been sinking yourself all this time.
if only you stretched your feet,
you’ll feel the floor so close to you.
i want you to stand up and get out of that pool
you’ve always thought was an ocean.

now you’re head’s above water,
you stretch your arms,
you know the air has already went inside your lungs
and now,
you breathe.
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