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#entrapment
Touched by silken ropes, Has feeling tied you up in knots? Does a thief within your mind Steal away your thoughts? "Call the marshall," said the judge, "This feeling stands accused Of taking thought and word away And making me confused." "Call the jury," said the judge, "What verdict have you reached?" "Guilty on all counts, we think A lesson should we teach." Locked within a tiny cell The mind shall guard its thief. Walls of thought and bars of words Seal in belief.
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 4:09 AM UTC
Silken Ropes
I’m not the same person You trapped back there, Clawed my way out to Sanctuary and fresh air. I buried The stories Of the past In the patches of Grass That I once Walked. I see the evening Light, And the sight Reminds me of The world I’m abandoning. I’m walking to escape, I’m running but it feels like It’s too late. I’ll break through the Clouds again. I’ll Swallow the rain. I’ll pick up the pebbles I see along the Way, I won’t fall into that Pitfall That you placed. I’ll conquer the sun And moon. I’ll hold the Tectonic plates. I’ll run a hundred Marathons To get out of this Cage That you placed.
0
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 5:15 AM UTC
Captivity
I can feel it I know it It's part of me It calls unto me For a while I felt like.... I can ignore it. But it felt like Living without "oxygen" But the more I ignore it The stronger The "urge " Making me "gasp" for air. Now I am "Trapped" Searching For "survival," In the "chaos" Of my thoughts Am "drowning" In the ocean I was warned Never to drink from There is one Thing I know But it's impossible For me to do.
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Jan 20
Jan 20, 2026 at 5:33 PM UTC
Oxygen
I sit alone within this room though my mind lurks elsewhere In a mirror, I see a reflection of me But when I blink, I am nowhere. Each time I speak, voices echo And the longer I stay, they grow The walls I built begin to crumble And all my fears finally show.
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Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 8:12 PM UTC
Never escapes
my blood is warm when it spills drip—ping down my thighs my heart longs to speak words, secrets of the flesh but instead she just weeps and pounds against my ribs, her cage and my stomach is wet with her tears
0
Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 10:44 PM UTC
my weeping heart
Run... run while you can before the envelopment entraps you encapsulating escape with leaden clouds skies darkened by searing missiles unburdening caches waiting for the stirring of conflict so easy to hijack as hatred screams loudest drowning out the pleas of nursing mothers as children's faces fend off old feuds and avarice of arms dealers
0
Nov 2, 2023
Nov 2, 2023 at 4:59 AM UTC
futility of war
Come with me, into the woodpecker woods, come and see the circular paths, gone are the leaves and the buds in the woodpecker woods, noises, voices in the barks of the birch, scattered feathers all over the floor, no fruit bearing in the grove, eyes of owls, woodpeckers in my woods, staring, baring no clemency, blackness and shadows they follow me, in the woodpecker woods, come and see, dance with me! go and try, you’re in my path, the forest is muted, you might be swoon, you’ll never leave the woodpecker woods.
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Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 8:54 AM UTC
Woodpecker Woods
In the absence of light I will find another way To see your captivation Overtake and plunder Mortal man Bedroom eyes wide and clear Will work their prey Like a rifle scope And there at the door The evidence will lie dying
0
Feb 1, 2020
Feb 1, 2020 at 10:38 PM UTC
Dilated Pupils
She carries it behind her Has a hold of her heart Weighing her down on the daily Unable to tear it apart When she awakens in the morning It sits on top her shoulders Doesn't move and taking residence Heavy like some gargantuan boulder It's that monkey on her back She carries it like some backpack Freedom of spirit she lacks Heart and soul showing cracks DS
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Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 9:54 AM UTC
The Monkey Backpack
Pictures with smiles Captured that moment in time But look into my eyes To see the truth that lies beneath I wonder if I can set sail Without the winds drawing me Back to the looming shadow That I'm anchored to When the sun goes down I know I'm safe and sound Even when the sun comes round I'm in trouble I hide behind this veil Like a thunderstruck willow One day I can lift this shroud And see the world not through Swollen eyes of red and blue Mundane days for me Are nightmares to you Please put me in an eternal dream With freedom just like you Fists of fury Do I deserve it Love is life And nothings perfect Eggshells broken I didn't mean for that You push me back Before I can say sorry Stories and films They don't see What love is like This is love to me
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Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 5:41 PM UTC
Blue Sun
I passed you on a stairway Somewhere back in time, I just had to make you mine! You tried to take me your way Up where the skies are blue, I had other plans for you… You wanted to go towards the light, I dragged you down into the night Through depths of dark despair. Welcome home to the devil’s lair. I pushed and you fell Down the stairway to hell…
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Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 8:35 AM UTC
Stairway to Hell
I offer no defense of my hidden sin, Not when it wastes a fragment of eternity In frivolous expenditure, stretched so thin Across another vast, sprawling century. And if I would - if I were - where to begin This tour of a macabre private gallery? All things, even this one, have their beginnings: Thus, my humble collection's underpinnings. Called to this divine vocation, I set out Each time I encountered one who, crafting art, Demanded my attentions. Please: never doubt The truth of my intentions; my swelling heart Adores them, falls in love as they sing or spout Their lifeblood inspiration. Stepping apart From all of this, don't stare so miserably! Can I be blamed for working literally? I love them, one and all, and here I curate - Safe from all the ravagings of time, if not Precisely speaking safe from my own mandate - The workings and workers who inspired such thought, Such incisive action. I lay them in state With tender care, never sold and never bought. Perhaps a glance at my favorite pieces Might reassure you? My latest releases? Observe the cuts into copper, engraving Her fury, her passion into the cold plates! How torturous, yes? She recalled it, raving, Having sought me out to deny the ingrates Assailing her solitude, as a craving. I preserved her passion. Here, her works’ mates: The roses she treasured etched into the hard bone Of her shoulder-blades and skull, instead of stone. But so few beloveds grace my humble home Despite my voracious eye surveying scores Of likely lovers - artful, otherwise - some Lacking, left uninvited. Those I adore, I long to beckon close - close as you now come. Join me? There's more to show you, so much more, And I hope you'll linger tonight, to dine. I've just the thing for an artist who loves wine…
0
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 8:02 AM UTC
the huntress (ottava rima)
I offer no defense of my hidden sin, Not when it wastes a fragment of eternity In frivolous expenditure, stretched so thin Across another vast, sprawling century. And if I would - if I were - where to begin This tour of a macabre private gallery? All things, even this one, have their beginnings: Thus, my humble collection's underpinnings. Called to this divine vocation, I set out Each time I encountered one who, crafting art, Demanded my attentions. Please: never doubt The truth of my intentions; my swelling heart Adores them, falls in love as they sing or spout Their lifeblood inspiration. Stepping apart From all of this, don't stare so miserably! Can I be blamed for working literally? I love them, one and all, and here I curate - Safe from all the ravagings of time, if not Precisely speaking safe from my own mandate - The workings and workers who inspired such thought, Such incisive action. I lay them in state With tender care, never sold and never bought. Perhaps a glance at my favorite pieces Might reassure you? My latest releases? Observe the cuts into copper, engraving Her fury, her passion into the cold plates! How torturous, yes? She recalled it, raving, Having sought me out to deny the ingrates Assailing her solitude, as a craving. I preserved her passion. Here, her works’ mates: The roses she treasured etched into the hard bone Of her shoulder-blades and skull, instead of stone. But so few beloveds grace my humble home Despite my voracious eye surveying scores Of likely lovers - artful, otherwise - some Lacking, left uninvited. Those I adore, I long to beckon close - close as you now come. Join me? There's more to show you, so much more, And I hope you'll linger tonight, to dine. I've just the thing for an artist who loves wine…
Continue reading...
40
She said, “darling, would you die for me?” I said, “now or before?” She replied abruptly, her eyes Still fixated on mine, “all the times?” “Without any doubt,”  I said, looking away. “How about you?” I asked her. She just giggled and said, “Don't be silly, I can't die twice.” Then she walked away.
0
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 7:24 AM UTC
Entrapment
life is monstrous, savage and cold. My heart; a ticking time-bomb waiting to get old. Frantic whispers in my head "no time left, no time left " Time is an ambush predator, agile and adept. Lost in an abyss, only glimpses of far away stars, out of reach.                                                         UP into the vacuum I screech.                                                    Up                                              up Internal pressures build This panic is meaningless, soon, existence will be obsolete. I'll bunker down in a fortress of distraction, and pull the blanket over my head. I'll make a mansion of books, where fantasy filled delusions pacify my dread. I'll cling to Lifes' bared teeth as I'm shaken side to side. In time, time will release its predatory grip, let me live this life of mine.
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Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
The space-time continuum...
It was entrapment, I cannot help But fall for the Women That are hysterically Dangerous and Bad
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Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 7:29 AM UTC
Untitled
I wish the words would come That I could “ring them out like the rain” Even this one though Doesn’t end for me Degraded to online prompts With the delusional last-hope That these words Will bring mine some solace Three prompts shallow The charmed one stares bashfully back at me “Write about something or someone you lost” I used to write about sunshine Tattooed into your wrist My eyes incapable of reading past; The other prompts fall backward Blank and dull--nothing changed The page blurred I know that those are the only words I feel Even these words though And the feelings they evoke Are empty Nothing holds anything No laughter in your throat I see your pictures I want to dig it out From the cave of your mouth Frantic; I need to find your smile The words spoken only to me I miss you My spirit hinges between yesterday and tomorrow The present isolated—anything but lived With that thought You feel even more wasted ‘Wasted’ Prompts the image: Me slapping myself Popping the unspoken word from out of my mouth Wasted Black letters laying on the floor in a white wall room Staring back at me Erase this stanza Grow back my charisma Where did I lose my empathy Replaced with sick sympathy How could I say this about you Worse even, Is my silence After hearing from cold lips “what a shame” The lose breath hangs The words replaced with brief and noncommittal reflection Followed by the shake of a faceless head Before turning back to its newspaper The word Shame Stabs slowly Only because you did make all of your choices You did leave us Still, I keep my eyes from casting to the ground I am not left someplace dingy There is no soot covering where my cheeks should be rosey You are not shame The words do not come They sit muddied and sopping A rag dismissed to the few-days-grayed sidewalk Rain falls and attempts to take in space where there is none Even a sponge becomes too full I miss you
0
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
Prompt: Write about anything but Her
I wish the words would come That I could “ring them out like the rain” Even this one though Doesn’t end for me Degraded to online prompts With the delusional last-hope That these words Will bring mine some solace Three prompts shallow The charmed one stares bashfully back at me “Write about something or someone you lost” I used to write about sunshine Tattooed into your wrist My eyes incapable of reading past; The other prompts fall backward Blank and dull--nothing changed The page blurred I know that those are the only words I feel Even these words though And the feelings they evoke Are empty Nothing holds anything No laughter in your throat I see your pictures I want to dig it out From the cave of your mouth Frantic; I need to find your smile The words spoken only to me I miss you My spirit hinges between yesterday and tomorrow The present isolated—anything but lived With that thought You feel even more wasted ‘Wasted’ Prompts the image: Me slapping myself Popping the unspoken word from out of my mouth Wasted Black letters laying on the floor in a white wall room Staring back at me Erase this stanza Grow back my charisma Where did I lose my empathy Replaced with sick sympathy How could I say this about you Worse even, Is my silence After hearing from cold lips “what a shame” The lose breath hangs The words replaced with brief and noncommittal reflection Followed by the shake of a faceless head Before turning back to its newspaper The word Shame Stabs slowly Only because you did make all of your choices You did leave us Still, I keep my eyes from casting to the ground I am not left someplace dingy There is no soot covering where my cheeks should be rosey You are not shame The words do not come They sit muddied and sopping A rag dismissed to the few-days-grayed sidewalk Rain falls and attempts to take in space where there is none Even a sponge becomes too full I miss you
Continue reading...
67
She stupefy truth with her finely crafted lies that stand head held high without even the slightest sign of embarrassment. She waters the seeds with acid, deliberately even manage to get kudos for her 'kind intervention' Her 'collected venom' in real, is a counterfeit concoction more deadly than the real, that attracts unlimited attention and the loudest rounds of applause, for it's new shade of blue when displayed with special effects for all to view. In her presence, fairness loses its meaning foulness like her, usurps it, makes its own, becomes the reigning queen! Whatever she does has a dark beauty, even the true angel of evil would greatly envy her.
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Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 2:24 AM UTC
A dark deranged magnificience