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Xnarf 2d
The perplexed, yet stoic faces of the mass
Move in perfect synchronicity along its course
Frowns felt with crushing gravitational force
When existence itself feels like a trespass

Maniacal howls pierce the night by the apex
Today, the fear of Gévaudan still reverberates
Heads in the sand as the beast celebrates
The giant’s foot stands firm on feeble necks

Underneath pretense, the green light shines
To be deemed disposable, classified as obsolete
Is when the voices emit their scorching heat
On crumbling foundations, the oblivious dines

As the once quiet sea explosively expands
We find ourselves engulfed by waves and flames
Dwelling in this flow, I watch as it claims
Tranquility after the chaos is where it ends
David Hilburn Sep 25
Rice and tea
For a smiling flower...
But I want beauty to be, a sincere key
Caring in this heat, I see you wonder if I Molech's sour?

Rain and tear's
Easy worlds of a questions held, so quiet...
Caring and hope, in a box until wind fears
The space and renumeration, of what callous call's might

Remain and truth
So called future, with a room for when a think begin's
Shoulder's and heraldry, to love a banality's youth
Did a rage tell you, to stay away from imaginary wind?

Remember and treacle
Taken with a pristine cough, the tale has an awkward twist
She of silence is an angel of liberty, never fickle
Look hard, this lie is the only way to judge a reason, ******

Reign of terror
Women in the raving lunacy of a cold shoulder, with nothing to eat
But the stare of wonder, of me's in the rage of a waiting mirror
Where the wish granted, is still a fight with nothing but a heart to beat...
the seven - ten split, is still a tough shot?
We can never forget September 11, 2001
We will forever remember such a date
A date that will live in infamy
A date that has everything in it:
Sadness, fire, death, destruction and bravery
Heroism, sickness and resilience, except happiness
9/11/2001 is a memorable and a daring date
That changed the world. Things are not seen like
The day before. We have a different perspective
About life and everything under the sun
We learn new ways of mourning, sighing
Fighting, of course new ways of being absolutely resilient
No, we will never forget this fateful day where terrorism
Became a new word. Everybody is talking about the death
Of so many brave first responders: firefighters, policemen
And many others who wear proudly their uniforms
We shall never forget 9/11. We will never forget 9/11
The sacrifices made by the brave civilians who had lost their lives
Are priceless. The eternal flame in our heart cannot be extinguished
We know that everyone in NYC and elsewhere will always
Remember how the world got shocked, stunned by these egregious
And deadly actions perpetrated by a bunch of sick cowards
9/11/2001 is a monument engrained in our brain which will live there
For a very long time. The memories of the braves are metastasized
In our psychic, no one can suppress them without killing us cold
"911" is no longer three numbers but a historic symbol like Pearl Harbor
9/11/2001 is now 18 years old. 18 years of tears, fear, pain and suffering
We shall never forget 9/11. We will remember. We can never forget 9/11.

Copyright © 9/11/2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Dann Scot Sep 9
My terror grows with each passing night,
As slow, steady darkness steals away sight.
Footsteps and whispers add to my fright —
Is there an end to such desperate plight?
How long, too long, till dawn’s early light!
I clutch my candle in trembling hand,
And watch the shadows dance to understand
What I envision as its light expands
Through the room and down the hall’s span.
There lingers a vision, diaphanous and pale,
Shifting and shuddering, as though it were frail,
Whispering softly a most horrible wail.
Eyes no more than twin black abysses,
The vision approaches to beg final kisses.
Heavy, so heavy, my heart thuds in my chest.
From hall to room the visitant creeps,
Upon my mortal form it silently seeps.
Gliding in silence, not walking — not quite —
Closer it comes with its sulfurous blight.
My eyes are held tight — can’t even blink right.
Lips part, jaw drops, revealing a black maw;
The specter extends one moon-gray claw,
Caressing my cheek with a grave-cold paw.
My throat constricts — no breath do I draw.
It locks my eyes with hell’s black gaze,
Until moonlight strikes in golden rays.
The phantasm shudders and starts to blaze,
Struggles again its arm to raise —
But from the light it reels in malaise.
And heavy, so heavy, my heart thuds in my chest.
The hallucination retreats, as though pressed,
Back to the doorway — its intent suppressed —
Shrinking into the dark hall, a lost contest,
Driven by a moonbeam so blessed,
Whose gentle light coursed to my relief
And unmasked the fear beneath belief —
The frightful soul-stealing thief
That stalked and grieved me, if only brief.
Now I breathe, and calm my soul:
“Twas nothing but a myth… a troll.”
Then thunder pealed a mighty toll.
Wind brought rain and a thundercloud —
Again that wail, this time loud.
Oh heavy, so heavy, my heart… no more…
Bekah Halle Aug 28
Terror struck the town
Of Porepunkah
With a lone gunman,
Nationalist in ideology,
Pulsating through his veins;
He shot two policemen dead,
The dread still at large
Armed with ammunition
that could blow the entire town away --

The town, once sleepy
Is now fully awake;
Gripped with terror
As they lie in wait —

That same terror
trasped across town borders
Into my neighbourhood
Two students, the nephews of the gunman
stood, sprouting the same ideology —

We’re on watch —
I'm on counsel,
How can I be that non-judgmental
Presence in the face of evil
Holding that emotional shrapnel?!
As of 15 September, all has gone quiet on the lone gunman but man hunt ensues... October update: 400 police descended on the surrounding areas to search for Dezi Filby, then 200 retreated only to be then further supported by 100 further police officers. No results to-date - seriously!
thepuppeteer Aug 15
Utterly consuming, weaving around my body like a snake. Spiraling and spiraling until there's nothing left of me. You need to leave. You need to get away. Get away. Get away. It makes my stomach drop. "Why is this happening to me?" I ask, to whom I do not know... "I was never like this before. I could challenge the world if I wanted to. So... answer me... why? Why is this happening to me?" And yet... no matter how many times I asked, the thing would not answer. I wondered if I was dying, perhaps that was the reason why all I could feel within my body was an all-consuming feeling of dread and fear. At this point, I was begging the thing for an answer to no avail. I was hopeless, I wanted to do what I could do before. I wanted to explore, to look beyond the world, beyond the stars. But this ****** fear stopped me from doing any of that. The thing patted my head and asked me a question, "Do you think your fear is unreasonable? That it is there for no reason?" It smiled briefly before saying, "You should be grateful, for I may save your life one day."
This was originally supposed to be a poem, but I ended up turning it into a short story instead! I might make a part two, but I'm not 100% sure yet! I wonder if anyone can figure out what the fear being talked about here is... :)
Lance Remir Aug 4
You were scared of the dark

Scared of loud noises and horror movies 

Scared of the uncontrolled and unexpected

But you were terrified of saying 

"I love you, too"
i find it unnerving,
hearing my voice out loud,
after being branded, growing up
the quiet one, who’s a bit too shy.
small talk is pointless.
the weather is the same—
too sunny, too windy,
everyone’s always
baffled by rain.

we exchange ‘y’alrights’
to seem polite
when no one really cares.
but where i come from,
we ask, dig deep,
we share.

talking is personal.
intimate and sacred.
we ask how your day’s been
with space designated
for your words.
we don’t pretend
sharing doesn’t hurt.

it does.
standing on a stage
fearing becoming
too repetitive, too boring,
running out of stories
to share.
i focus on the words in front,
not on the people who stare.

but it still wrecks me—
and my voice does tremble.
i’m not used to strangers
in moments so tender,
it fills me with dread.
but instead of rotting away,
i’m finding i shed.

i shed the heaviness from inside,
and beneath the words,
i’m fuelled by fire
outweighing the hurt
rubbed reeling.

i’m using it in lanterns
on my journey of healing—
however long it takes.
it is my becoming,
it’s never been a phase.

sometimes it gets dark,
but do witness every line,
observe every spark.
i’ll be here standing—
voice trembling or not.
this one’s about stage fright, vulnerability, and choosing to speak anyway. a love letter to shaky voices and all the times we did it scared.
july 9, 2025
Mélissa Jun 11
Some days I wake up in terror
The body would move if only the mind would
Send the signal
Feel safe enough to go on living
Those days I feel a cage in the shape of
My skin
Pushing inwards with so much force
I could become a black hole


Some other days I wake up vivid
Full of life
I can walk, run, lift
Smile
I can answer the phone
I can plan my days ahead
And the only thing getting in my way
Is a pain
In my lower back
That makes it difficult to make things fun
And a confusion
That makes it difficult not to wonder:


"𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦?"
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