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Altar of false reassurance, symbolizing return, of the hat bearer
“Home is where you hang your hat.”
How many of you have the hat bearer hung on temporary walls?
During intermittent crawls from house to home
Kora Sani Oct 2018
there you are
sleeping in my mind again
second-guessing your presence
still hurts every now and then

a long-term visitor
overstaying your welcome
my heart was your home
now that feeling is seldom

the blame is on me
it's my fault in the end
there's no disguising that
i'm the one who invited you in
Isabella Terry Apr 2018
Death comes knocking at my door,
My footsteps echo on the floor.
Because of time, I know it's him;
Who else would knock at 4 AM?

Opportunity comes a'knocking,
Watching, waiting, sulking, stalking.
The clock is ticking, ticking, ticking,
Time's conniving, tricking, tricking.

I tilt my head and listen near,
His breaths outside still reach my ear.
He's come to taunt me, nothing more,
To flirt with me behind my door.

I want to run, to back away,
but fear has frozen me in place.
Fear and footsteps, time and lore;
Death comes knocking at my door.
Thirty-six hours passed with no rest
but I am now deep within a dream
of strange substance and color
my emotions strained and stretched
my body turned inside-out by
floating lights
this is the price paid when one denies sleep

I blink from a nightmare of glistening
silver probes
to see in my awakened state
the blank stare of almond sized black eyes
a gray
silhoetted against the vanilla ice cream colored
shades of my living room window
the contrast visible
even in this monicum of light
he leans a bit to my right as I jump into consciousness
and I know he is surprised
before sending me back

When the morning Sun brings me around
my body
head to toe
feels worn
with fever
my daily aches
routine with age
are maximized and accentuated
the gray is fresh in my mind
the first clear thought
the clarity of his presence
undeniable

A quick check
testicles intact
coffee to chase the headache
a shower to
wash away the abuse
Oldie - slightly revised
Sabila Siddiqui Mar 2018
A visitor,
not a resident
once again.

You walk in and out
as though it was a revolving door.
You visit me as though I am a sovoneour shop,
just to see how much one would miss you.

My heart has become exhausted of
the constant switch between the void and the presence.

For you make a vacation out of me,
when I ought to be a sanctuary.
You turn me into a hotel room,
when I ought to be home.

My name was not the one that was to be traced on sand and washed away by the waves
but the one you would engrave with ink on your skin.

I am oxygen
I am water
Not momentary
or unncessary
like the label of the presence of expiry you labeled me with
Or your temporary devotion.
Laz Farrell Feb 2018
6am
His face was too familiar
The unwanted and out of date
A real gentleman
Someone who cares
Despite that prevailing optimisim
What’s he here to do
*
I appreciate you coming
That deep burning brow
Handing it to a shocked friend
Whose schedule don’t allow
I’ll learn to compromise
Despite significant disruption
I still won’t show any reaction
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
In a new avenues
Under the radiant skies
With unknown identity
Like a wonder of a visitor

On closing those eyes
So far, I was lost
Spending time in circle
Ultimately, I found my way, beyond

Calm silence, everywhere
Colored reflection of breaths
Echoes within memories, and
Chorus of forgiveness.
Self Discovery Mantra.
Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections.
Amanda Shelton Jul 2017
I hate migraines.
They don’t tell you
when they are coming,
and they never knock.

Instead you get an unwanted visitor
who is rude, loud, and causes pain.

It’s not fair
Who’d want that kind of visitor
coming again?

Stupid migraine!

**© 2017 Amanda D Shelton
Writing a poem is better than eating my words. If I didn't have the ability to write poetry I would eat my words. LOL Meaning I would have to find a different way to express myself which I would find hard to do.
BSeuss Jul 2017
Someone from my past was on my mind tonight, while i layed in bed.

Past twilight, which I will call midnight, I seen a figure, like a dream dip before you fade to sleep, followed by the obvious and unexplainable;

The image of two visible, yet dim eyes appearing on the inside of my closed eyelids, and vanishing.

I've been wide awake ever since.
Apparitions aren't scary.

Although, this is the first confirmed case of one choosing to

Look at me..
It's 1:30 a.m here.
But science can't explain yawning yet.
I'll just do something boring for a bit.
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