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ED Greene Jul 12
I'll not move the bed

out of fear
or to rinse eyes clear

his ghost will cling in here.

as time fills days
the memory stays

tis only his smell that fades.

the swollen heart sleeps
rumpled bed sheets
hair all unkempt
scattered floor unswept

yet the hopeful mind's eye
find small morsels suffice
like air pockets in ice
and the banshee does cry.
I don’t want to whisper anymore,
nor wish for stolen glances
to be my messenger,
odd hours and pillow talks
on different beds miles away
have now become my misery.
The faucet of excuses
to meet you in person
and pet my pinings to sleep
has run itself dry.
I wish to say it aloud
for your heart to hear
and the universe to register.
I love you.
I love you,
and I am left with no will, nor patience
to not be with you.
To be around you
is no longer flattering,
for in the moon and musk
I see distances and measures
that pull at the chords of my longing
and render me a sweet wailing
in its own wake.
I want to come home now,
make my bed with you
keep the phone aside and hold you.
I want my emptiness filled
with your touch
and find my closure  
in the heaves of your breathing.
Take me in
and leave me in no doubt,
for I would live a moment with you
than a lifetime without.
A B Faniki May 2019
It is summer season
When the wind runs about wailing
For it's carrying heat
When it is summer the heat is oppressive .  And the noise it makes seems like wailing .  Reedited  01/07/2020
pistachio Dec 2018
The hands of the clock pierced through me
Akin to a sword sharp and trenchant
Every passing hour brings me to malady
My mind descends to naught each and every vanishing month.

They say antidote is the time
Mending the affliction of memories pernicious
But it's a venom, bane and crime
Extending my heart's hole cause by reminisce infectious.
The time didn't stitch my wounded heart. It perhaps created a bigger hole.
Stanley Wilkin Nov 2016
TURNING and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.*


In a time such as this, in darkening days
        Without screeching witches
Frightened banshees, buggered old men
Searching for solace, eyes streaming with icicle-lust-
Gangrene facebook: torn-up, shredded twitter

The cries of the disconnected,

In a time like this, in darkening days,
The disconnections come in waves!

Searching for reason amongst the unreasoning,
Hunting for sanity within the insane,
Identifying the dead from amongst the living.


Email excreting venom
Internet exfoliating lies-politicians wrapped
                         In deceit-
A cold time of it, a wretched time of it.

Only within our hearts does hope lie.
                      Only there
Away from conflict and disorder
From the capricious cacophony of biased debate.

I'm wailing my heart out*
for that baby of mine
I'm wailing my heart out
these tears clouding the sunshine

she don't care
she ain't aware
of the wailing
in my heart's empty hole
that she's left so bare

day after day
this old wailing
has me on the decline
without her loving touch
to make my heart feel fine

all of the time
my life's paradigm

I'm wailing my heart out
for that baby of mine
I'm wailing my heart out
these tears clouding the sunshine

clouding the sunshine
clouding the sunshine
*for that baby of mine
A poem inspired by the B B King song, "The Thrill Is Gone"
KathleenAMaloney Apr 2016
Fog Horn
                                  Crowning Light
                                Upon the Unseen

                                   Revealing Star
                                 Sorrows Journey
                                Broken Promises
                                     Flesh Dyin
                                  Gods Promise
                                      Still Alive

        ­                         A Man By the See
                                         A Lover
.......and a Friend
Life unfolding
Two Paths Now

                                                           Cry For Me Lover

                                                     Of a Shattered Kingdom
                                                     And The Violence
                                                     Of a Stolen Heart
                                                     A Wife's ****
                                                      Rothko­'s RED

Caste Out
The World
For Nothing..

                                                     Unwillingness Betrayed
                                                        ­          Heart Torn Open
                                                            ­                    Refusing
                                    ­                                   The Violations
                                                      ­                Of a False God

HORROR Unveiling
Fighting for Life
Fires of Dismantling
Families Betrayal
Eternity I keeping

                                 Power of Prayer
                               CLAIM  me NOW
                ­                         Mary
             ­                         Bridgette
                              ­            ISIS
            ­                           Rachel
                                 GoddesSes All
                            And Yet there is only

­                                    Marry Me
Osondu Jan 2016
In these halls of wailing souls
These halls of ailing babes
Stand I, to them, a fiendish ghole
Needles and tubes, different sizes and grades
Heartless, I ignore their wolf like howls
Gently readying needles of different shades

Their screams echo off these walls
My ears fold upon themselves, deaf to their fear
I must continue with my mission, discarding their shrill calls
I grab a flailing arm, steadily drawing it near
In goes my needle, liquid within, into ****** halls
In hope that their shrill cries don't persevere

In these halls of wailing souls
Silence falls on ailing babes
First attempt at rhyming...
Shout out to all those who do it effortlessly
Cecil Miller Sep 2015
A wailing ghost has found you.
Foolishy, you hoped to be free.
But that is how it plays with you.
A cat and mouse game, you see.

However did you get as far
In the frosty, wintry night
Without knowing your ache would return?
How could you think you'd be alright?

The haint is on your back,
And chillishly shrilling in your ear.
Maybe you did not bury your deeds deep enough.
Perhaps that is why you fear.

The awesome hatred is poured into your cup.
A spectral accusation never is one in vain
If it closely resembles the truth.
The guilty perish, for crimes that are never named.
The beginning of fall, and the forward momentum toward my favorite holiday, have begun.
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