#disheveled - Hello Poetry

This is the second day of discourse And I'm still feeling worn My heart is torn, crying tears That mirror melting paintings And feet withering away On paths they tread on My eyes are closing Only to dream of nightmares And these words unspoken Are all but ideas now That have left their Stations of innovation Further to fade in my mind And further to drift apart From my creation.

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Jul 28, 2019

Jul 28, 2019 at 12:40 PM UTC

julalwynwilson

Second Day of Discourse

This is the second day of discourse And I'm still feeling worn My heart is torn, crying tears That mirror melting paintings And feet withering away On paths they tread on My eyes are closing Only to dream of nightmares And these words unspoken Are all but ideas now That have left their Stations of innovation Further to fade in my mind And further to drift apart From my creation.

15

We all hide behind the glass cages of our mind Through the transparent jail we keep the order I long to shatter the glass with a perilous thought Yet none so far have been quite strong enough So I continue to hide deep inside These parts of me where no one can find I'm not so shy, you'd see In the deepness of my mind I'm not so great, so organized My thoughts would show that I am disheveled, in utter disarray There is chaos here within my brain You'd never know as I conceal the calamity on the surface All these things going on inside I hide within a pre-payed smile

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Aug 20, 2018

Aug 20, 2018 at 1:05 AM UTC

Pyrrha

Conceal

We all hide behind the glass cages of our mind Through the transparent jail we keep the order I long to shatter the glass with a perilous thought Yet none so far have been quite strong enough So I continue to hide deep inside These parts of me where no one can find I'm not so shy, you'd see In the deepness of my mind I'm not so great, so organized My thoughts would show that I am disheveled, in utter disarray There is chaos here within my brain You'd never know as I conceal the calamity on the surface All these things going on inside I hide within a pre-payed smile

14

too strong she was. sitting dizzily on the edge. Do not disturb the disheveled lady, made cynical, tottering on the ledge. "I can't manage tonight." said poor miss polite and reasonable.

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Jul 2, 2018

Jul 2, 2018 at 11:37 AM UTC

lillianmay

poor miss polite and reasonable

too strong she was. sitting dizzily on the edge. Do not disturb the disheveled lady, made cynical, tottering on the ledge. "I can't manage tonight." said poor miss polite and reasonable.

7

This ragamuffin schleps with leaden gait weighted down like Atlas of yore like that Greek titan upon massive shoulders the worldly wide web he wore if a corporeal being incarnate, would be friended on social networks fig ure especially mythological creations exiled, reviled and sent to river elba shore the lowest watermark of Napoleon, and one exemplifying the je nais say quor my life and hard times as if concocted from mind of Charles Dickens or another deft writer with an abysmally dim, groveling vagabond less o more who experienced rejection at every turn muttering to join canine korps wonder why in this tar nation, he got saddled with prestigious title of warrior truth be told suffered psychological stress disorders at veep fog hatted Alberts’ epistemological environmental global germinal garrulousness galore, whose hoped friendship glued, clinched, billed as storied AA Milne’s eyore whose jarring inscrutably heavy glum footsteps exerted downtrodden chore impressing mental state with angst, whence Hades and river Styx did allure!

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Jun 6, 2018

Jun 6, 2018 at 9:00 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Tatterdemalion

This ragamuffin schleps with leaden gait weighted down like Atlas of yore like that Greek titan upon massive shoulders the worldly wide web he wore if a corporeal being incarnate, would be friended on social networks fig ure especially mythological creations exiled, reviled and sent to river elba shore the lowest watermark of Napoleon, and one exemplifying the je nais say quor my life and hard times as if concocted from mind of Charles Dickens or another deft writer with an abysmally dim, groveling vagabond less o more who experienced rejection at every turn muttering to join canine korps wonder why in this tar nation, he got saddled with prestigious title of warrior truth be told suffered psychological stress disorders at veep fog hatted Alberts’ epistemological environmental global germinal garrulousness galore, whose hoped friendship glued, clinched, billed as storied AA Milne’s eyore whose jarring inscrutably heavy glum footsteps exerted downtrodden chore impressing mental state with angst, whence Hades and river Styx did allure!

28

With every breath my heart hurts i'm the queen of disappointment. people build me to bring me down only to be disappointed again. I let people into my heart, one that feels love for another. When they walk away the hurt is numb and i'm left cold and empty in pain. they say its not you its me, that's always what they say. paranoia builds more each lie, but what's wrong with me anyway? Nobody stays to tell me.

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Feb 22, 2018

Feb 22, 2018 at 9:27 PM UTC

Asonna

disappoint.

With every breath my heart hurts i'm the queen of disappointment. people build me to bring me down only to be disappointed again. I let people into my heart, one that feels love for another. When they walk away the hurt is numb and i'm left cold and empty in pain. they say its not you its me, that's always what they say. paranoia builds more each lie, but what's wrong with me anyway? Nobody stays to tell me.

13

Pennilessness shadows black unemployment endless track rails tie-er less lee when dumbly staring overdrawn account issues another clattering smack. Income pleat undergraduate degree contributed to the role of a sporadic employee time to acquire handy dandy blues clues key lost within vacillating undermining spree. Mental state can be a precarious widget-like thing directly at the whim of financial sliding swing self-destruction demonic ring courtesy of pauperism delivers the destructive poisoned scorpion sting. Immortal force of please hear my cry provide support while under the sheltering sky steady (just out of reach) sought income bolster up high mirage vision brings transient delight to this great (former Civil War Yankee) supreme guy. If no breakthrough I do not foresee charity not for profit (but only prophet) I will bee and this blurb carved outside my cave-like hovel many moons and break of the day find me imploring existential vagaries this baby boomer sans middle-aged man who hankers to be free thus though aye to be a schnorrer who scrounges parking lots for scattered change yet...decries blubbering the beggar's credo write out a check and mail to me. Philanthropic persons may rightfully balk and get irate at such brazen plea to squelch ma pecuniary financial state yet where the crossroads of mine future most likely crop up which would cause far a tete a tete meanwhile, stoicism bids me wait... For Godot, Curly, Shemp, or Moe the stand-in for a Stool Pigeon or even an odd antagonist or protagonist dreamt by Edgar Allan Poe.

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Jan 20, 2018

Jan 20, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Capital Bust

Pennilessness shadows black unemployment endless track rails tie-er less lee when dumbly staring overdrawn account issues another clattering smack. Income pleat undergraduate degree contributed to the role of a sporadic employee time to acquire handy dandy blues clues key lost within vacillating undermining spree. Mental state can be a precarious widget-like thing directly at the whim of financial sliding swing self-destruction demonic ring courtesy of pauperism delivers the destructive poisoned scorpion sting. Immortal force of please hear my cry provide support while under the sheltering sky steady (just out of reach) sought income bolster up high mirage vision brings transient delight to this great (former Civil War Yankee) supreme guy. If no breakthrough I do not foresee charity not for profit (but only prophet) I will bee and this blurb carved outside my cave-like hovel many moons and break of the day find me imploring existential vagaries this baby boomer sans middle-aged man who hankers to be free thus though aye to be a schnorrer who scrounges parking lots for scattered change yet...decries blubbering the beggar's credo write out a check and mail to me. Philanthropic persons may rightfully balk and get irate at such brazen plea to squelch ma pecuniary financial state yet where the crossroads of mine future most likely crop up which would cause far a tete a tete meanwhile, stoicism bids me wait... For Godot, Curly, Shemp, or Moe the stand-in for a Stool Pigeon or even an odd antagonist or protagonist dreamt by Edgar Allan Poe.

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