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Luna Craft Jul 4
Sometimes I remember the scorn of my family,
Effigies of bloodlines crossed into a tired face.
I remember my mother,
Her vice was appearance-
Not her own but that of others.
Every day was judgment
She’d pick us before we bloomed and left wilted children
Questioned the lack of fruit
Not with self-deprecation but with scorn
How dare we cross the farmer who sowed the seeds and watered the crops?
How dare we look towards the sky for comfort?
When that cold trowel could dig in our necks.

I remember one time my mother asked me if she was the problem
A lie, I’ve heard that question many times
How can you curse a broken human more than she does herself
And somewhere in my head, I justify it
Consider the kindness built on vanity to be kindness nonetheless
Flowers do not need to be alive to be beautiful
They can be so frailed and dried up they become immortal
A crumbling tombstone of decay
And we marvel at them
And I remember that I am a product of my mother
Poetress2 Apr 18
To all of you,
I want to say;
Thank you for bringing,
Sunshine my way.
The comments you leave,
truly makes my day;
I no longer feel,
my words are in vain.
I do not write,
for compliments;
I write for all,
the ones' depressed.
And what I pen,
is from my heart;
I have no other,
place to start.
So thank you all,
for encouraging me;
Sometimes that's all,
I ever need.
mourning echo of despair,
I am alive but not in vain,
your hopeless touch of deaths of joy,
your wealth of thought, your tempting lure,
I am but graciousness and pain,
this is a wealth of deaths upon a death,
a purple substance of the paralysed veins,
a storm of flames up in the luring infinite,
the face of sacred, the embedded truth,
a love of demons and despair,
suffocated in the fragrance rain,
deep in the breath of time’s sexuality,
a murdered youth in luxury,
a hopeless, faint, exquisite memory,
the burning oceans in the pure dark,
the touch of lust, hypnotic mystery,
a breath so freezing on the mind,
the death’s alive and kills and reigns.
Poem from my book 'The Allure Of Time' now available on amazon.
Oh to be self absorbed.
Floating through life thinking you’re the only one worth giving a **** about.
I’d feel sorry for you if you hadn’t suggest it yourself.
Control your illusions of grandeur and I’ll control my contemptuous ramblings.
You’re so vain.
You probably think this poem’s about you.
Sorry for the slightly aggressive tone, just needed to get some feelings off my chest about some of the people in my school. It’s been playing on my mind recently and what better way to release those feelings than through some good old fashioned poetry XD
Osiria Melody Feb 18
for hours, agonizing over every succinct detail,
in my mind, a finely crafted story comes to life

a poem, you see, takes more than adding figurative
sprinkles into a cake of esoteric, thoughts that only
i understand
perhaps, not. i could write about topics that
everyone else is doing to "fit" in. perhaps, not.
i'm just overthinking it?

i'm after becoming a poet, but not after fame
i'm after becoming a poet, but not after
making a living from its craft
i'm after becoming a poet, but not after
proudly holding copies of my own
works in book stores, to sign them

point is, i'm happy. i call myself a poet
because i breathe my creative breaths
into this life of poetry

for hours, agonizing over every
succinct detail,
in my mind, a finely crafted story
comes to life

a poem,

my brainchild that i nurture.

My poems are my brainchildren.
You were searching everywhere.
All in vain.

But didn't it strike you,

                                              How can you look for someone,
                                               who doesn't want to be found?
You can only help someone. If they let you help them. isn't it?
Some of us are beyond help. And we need to accept it.
Erian Mar 17
Pain runs through my nerves
When I see you in vain
But even in the bitter of days
Things will get better
For you and me
As we face life together
Through the dark
That yet when the tears start to fall
I'll be here for You
Things will get better
I'll be here for You
Xgaizer Mar 14
There's something in my head
That keeps me awake
There's something in my head
That keeps me wreak
There's something in my head
That makes me afraid
There's something in my head
That make me ranged
But there is one thing in my head
That makes me think i wanna escape.
Badshah Khan Feb 11
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 42

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

Yea, Everyone is naturally in Vain,

Except the Creator (Allah)’ and His Beloved Alone’

And on Specific One day every created Pleasant;

Dear things Must, be vanishing away!

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
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