Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Pete King Apr 2017
I’m ten-thousand things,
And I’m ten-thousand people,
And they’re all completely insane.

You’re ten-thousand things,
And you’re ten-thousand people;
And I love every one just the same.
A short one. I'll probably expand on it at a later date, but it'll do for now. :)
Eccentric Enigma Mar 2017
Pennies casually dropped to the distant depths in gathering pending hope to wishing wells
Moonbeams caught amongst their silvery slivers of light amongst themselves
Quiet whispers rebounding of that chatter of fates bent confusing and strange ways
Echoes like ripples from lakes surface created by skipping stones vibrate through life’s days
Searching into the distant horizons shot with heat haze fortune cookies shatter break
Emotions in gathering ripples travel ev outward causing those ripples cross life’s lake
Standing silent watching with eyes that search my soul standing apart from that crowd
Wonder why they rush about trying to be the things that they are not and they need be so loud
Warm hands still remembering the days that now be past treasuring those holding recent memories
Thoughts of times so different like summer childhoods never ending breeze such things they are these
White edged satin azure sky blue days that seemed to have no end fraying satin now it still it clings to lace
Memories even those photographs growing yellowed and torn with age they can’t replace your face
Moving sideways shifting to greet the mornings early light another day is christened dawns first shimmering light
People shuffle move about pretending they are real but like the mice in programmed corridors they drift through life’s mazes
But ever watching smiling tempted sometimes to laugh but never shedding raindrop tears observing from on high
Those tear shaped raindrops from my weary eyes so much of life they've seen are falling like those pennies from the sky
(C)G.Evans Reserved 2017
optional
Àŧùl Jan 2017
And so we were separated by spaces between us,
The distances took a heavy toll from us both,
Unsuccessful better be my surname,
Long ago I started tumbling.

Up above the world so high,
She was cutest angel in my sky,
Ever so beautiful all her ways were,
Dreaming me with herself she used to.

Tracing words on her skin I used to write,
On both her feet and also her hands.

Lost is that so golden sheen,
Over the years only getting bitter,
Vastly living in my solo play I am now,
Escaping that wicked loneliness poltergeist.

Kindly I tried to love her with all my honesty,
Rather than heart I loved her with my soul,
Insipid now all my days have become,
Painting I am regularly a smiley,
I**nsipid my life has become.
We were like tags to the poem of life,
So we were always separated by spaces.

I am satisfied that I did not cheat her ever.
I have a clean heart as far as loyalty is concerned.
Another Secondary Acrostic Poetical Piece.
My HP Poem #1368
©Atul Kaushal
leinstinct Dec 2016
What can I say
I may exaggerate
But the pain is real
Entirely physical bearable but terrifying

My heart just aches
Not from love
Nor from spiritual pain
Entirely physical this is my pleading for help

May be all of my vices
Every excess  
But I cannot reason
Oh this terrifying pain

Every thought is melancholic
Consumed by anxiety, fear and pain
Paranoid and devastated
Worried it may be my last breath

Every breath intensifies my pain
Entirely physical somebody save me
My heart won't like to work

I don't lie I am always honest
This time it may seem other wise
But worried as I am I can assure thee
My health conditions are at risk

My heart just aches
Not from love
Nor from spiritual pain
Entirely physical this is my pleading for help
True, moment
Outcast Dreamer Nov 2016
"One fine morning,
                                      As usual Mary went for jog,
                   and while returning home, she checked the letter box,
                     Besides the usual bills, advertisements and offers
             There lay this ominous letter in black and crimson color...
                                                and of course,
             curiosity got better of her and she was ripping of the edges

                                    and on scanning the contents  
                                       she gave out a shrill cry...
                                          her fingers trembling
                                         her forehead sweating...
                                      
                                         It was a suicide letter!!
                                      A letter with news of death
                                            A letter from a man
                                                 who wrote this
                                         before his few last breaths...

                                       Slowly she read each word..
                             each one of them echoing in her head..
                                       the letter went as follows-

Dear Jane,
I love you a lot,
and I know you will be in shock and pain,
but I couldn't handle it anymore,
I found my answers in the dark,
I found solace in enternal bliss,
I just want you to stay strong,
and fulfill my last wish,
so lend me your attention, woman,
Do  you remember that old paino we have in the attic?,
I want you to gift that to my small sister,
Lily is naive and she would miss me and won't find any thing
To call her own anymore,
Give her this paino so that she may hold it dear to her heart,
If you don't do this for me,
then I am afraid my soul wouldn't rest,
and in a fortnight I would be chasing you as a ghoul,
you will always be my girl,
Love,
          Peter

                             Mary read and re-read again and again,
                             then she finally gave a sigh of relief,
                   and picked up her phone and went to do laundries,
                                                     You see,
                        the letter had reached the wrong destination.
                                               (what a irony)"
Tee hee!~
Janica Katricia Oct 2016
bodies' warmth as the sun heats up the sky.
we continue to move while we were burning
into the flames
once we thought was dangerous to play with.
STLR Oct 2016
**** This

cyber cypher, rearranging faces now watch me decipher this

Aim at all who think I ain't nice with it
I'm on point like a ****** is

I'm a rapper no benefactors i attack like a raptor Jurassic world in this *****

**** this ****, I'm done with this
I'm done with these formats

******* Lames I will rearrange your frames then leave you ***** like floor mats

I'm blunt like Borat

I come from the darkest corner of the location where you were born at

I'm aiming for your Cornea don't get it twisted, that means two-thirds of your eye will get lifted

Let's make One whole instead
so you don't forget this.

I will rip out one of your inner intestines then hand it off to one of your contestants

Have them Hail Mary that ****, then I'll simply intercept it.

I'll then find the nearest toilet then throw it in the septic

This is that generation X ****
Future flow, You know Young and Reckless

Let me demonstrate with my next sentence

Verbal blades will cut through the crevices of your eyes nerves, to then be served on a dish next to the head of your nemesis like some Hors d'oeuvres

With these sedatives you will be severed, these words will make your bones fold like white t-shirts

But not before you see my spiked cleats first

Where the **** is my money?!

You'll be screaming "she's gotta have it!" Like spike lee's first

The conclusion to this is a knifed cleaver, pulled back out on reversed

you thought last night seemed worst?
D Sep 2016
Body
Notes
Dexter Terzungwe Sep 2016
This is Tina, she's my kid sister.
Over there is Joseph and Paul, they are twin siblings, our next door neighbors.
Next to them is Christy, blush she lives two streets down the street.
We are playing WHOT in my house.
Yes, Whot.
It's a card game that most parents won't let their kids play;
My dad included
But he is at work at the moment.
Dad is very strict.
Whenever he is home,
My friends aren't allowed to come over unless we are going to study, and under his supervision.
Suddenly we hear his car honking at the gate,
There's panic and turmoil in the living room.
Whot cards are flying around and empty Oreos packs are being thrown into the trash bag.
Empty juice cups are being taken to be washed in the kitchen.
There's an avalanche in here and the result is orderliness.
By the time dad steps in,
We're all settled around the study table,"reading."
Oh God, no!
There's the 20 Whot card on the table.
Dad has seen it and he is coming over.
He has a scowl on his face and I know that look; we're all getting a good beating.
The last time we were flogged, Tina wet herself.
Dad comes over, he looks at each one of us,
Then in his deep, baritone voice, he asks:
"Have you eaten?"
My shoulders sag,
I am defeated.
Today cant be April fool's day.
To all those that were flogged as kids and to those that never got to experience it, this is what it felt like. The fear, the knowing, the anticipation and the "wait."
Next page