#inmymind - Hello Poetry

in the last weeks you didn't cross my mind even once but today i can't get you out of my head

0

Apr 13, 2020

Apr 13, 2020 at 2:03 PM UTC

MrsAnybody

a little bit confused ~ 93

in the last weeks you didn't cross my mind even once but today i can't get you out of my head

9

The shackles, so inviting. You need no control. Give your control to the shackles, They love it…that’s what they are meant for right? Take control from the occupant. He must obey. Must be taken away. To where? He has no say, The shackles love the control And he loves the powerlessness. Nothing is expected, Nothing needed, He gets joy from being powerless Powerless of what happens and free Everything is let go. No memories, responsibilities, the shackles have taken it all away The shackles love the control You just need to get away. The relationship gives both just what they need, At least they think, at least for a second. One more drop, their grip grows tighter. Take it all, not just some. “sure another” They beckon and you ponder Then he tips it back. Both think this is what needs to happen Made up their mind Another down just let it happen the shackles love the control take it from me, all worries, pain, everything, it’s their’s not mine. He thinks. The shackles love the control. His eyes open, no shackles in sight. Just empty bottles and a faint light. He thinks it’s going to be ok, at least by tonight. Knowing he’ll feel the familiar metal clamped tight. as he grips the glass in fright. Scared of it all The memories, The empty thoughts, The unresponsiveness of the sky. He gives up, gives it all up Throws the key, And just lets it be. Clamped tight for the night He has let go of it all Thanks to the cold remedy he thinks heals him so well… Until his eyes open on another glimps of light In an unfamiliar place Maybe this will finally end him of this destructive chase. Or to another breakdown, Maybe the same whirlwind That he just spent the last 8 hours in The shackles love the control.

0

Aug 8, 2015

Aug 8, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC

fluffel

The Shackles

The shackles, so inviting. You need no control. Give your control to the shackles, They love it…that’s what they are meant for right? Take control from the occupant. He must obey. Must be taken away. To where? He has no say, The shackles love the control And he loves the powerlessness. Nothing is expected, Nothing needed, He gets joy from being powerless Powerless of what happens and free Everything is let go. No memories, responsibilities, the shackles have taken it all away The shackles love the control You just need to get away. The relationship gives both just what they need, At least they think, at least for a second. One more drop, their grip grows tighter. Take it all, not just some. “sure another” They beckon and you ponder Then he tips it back. Both think this is what needs to happen Made up their mind Another down just let it happen the shackles love the control take it from me, all worries, pain, everything, it’s their’s not mine. He thinks. The shackles love the control. His eyes open, no shackles in sight. Just empty bottles and a faint light. He thinks it’s going to be ok, at least by tonight. Knowing he’ll feel the familiar metal clamped tight. as he grips the glass in fright. Scared of it all The memories, The empty thoughts, The unresponsiveness of the sky. He gives up, gives it all up Throws the key, And just lets it be. Clamped tight for the night He has let go of it all Thanks to the cold remedy he thinks heals him so well… Until his eyes open on another glimps of light In an unfamiliar place Maybe this will finally end him of this destructive chase. Or to another breakdown, Maybe the same whirlwind That he just spent the last 8 hours in The shackles love the control.

62

Poetry is like spider webs. Each word has so much meaning. A spider prefers to spin its web at night. Maybe this is because thats when they have the most on their minds or when they feel safe. Each web a beautiful creation. The time it takes to create it and the little appreciation it gets. They say a spider will eat its web when moving on, every poet will eat their words one day. Cob webs, are webs that have been abandoned and left to die. Our bodies will one day be left to die. This moment, this one right now, is all we have. We will leave our poetry behind to turn into Cob Webs. Maybe one day a child may stumble across these words and bring them back to life. Poetry is the most powerful thing we have and we need to give it to everyone. So the next time you see a spider web, appreciate it a little more. Think of it as, poetry. Something or someone spent a lot of time making it. And put their soul into it. Because what is poetry if not a spiders web in the corner waiting to be realized?

0

Mar 12, 2015

Mar 12, 2015 at 9:23 PM UTC

mike-lowe

Poetry And Spider Webs

Poetry is like spider webs. Each word has so much meaning. A spider prefers to spin its web at night. Maybe this is because thats when they have the most on their minds or when they feel safe. Each web a beautiful creation. The time it takes to create it and the little appreciation it gets. They say a spider will eat its web when moving on, every poet will eat their words one day. Cob webs, are webs that have been abandoned and left to die. Our bodies will one day be left to die. This moment, this one right now, is all we have. We will leave our poetry behind to turn into Cob Webs. Maybe one day a child may stumble across these words and bring them back to life. Poetry is the most powerful thing we have and we need to give it to everyone. So the next time you see a spider web, appreciate it a little more. Think of it as, poetry. Something or someone spent a lot of time making it. And put their soul into it. Because what is poetry if not a spiders web in the corner waiting to be realized?

6

I'm not shocked How saddened I can become Yet the boat isn't rocked. Sailing out beyond me Expectations on the shore I think we will live fully Everything we want and more. It wasn't me and you truly That I could not ignore. Sails adjusted to me. Asking for more. That's what really threw me. There are no closed doors Now everything is blooming Better than before.

0

Oct 16, 2014

Oct 16, 2014 at 1:42 AM UTC

jennifer-weiss

Second Sail

I'm not shocked How saddened I can become Yet the boat isn't rocked. Sailing out beyond me Expectations on the shore I think we will live fully Everything we want and more. It wasn't me and you truly That I could not ignore. Sails adjusted to me. Asking for more. That's what really threw me. There are no closed doors Now everything is blooming Better than before.

15

You occupy my mind In all my idle time Leave no corner No nook, no crevice Untouched You run around And around You run Chasing away all else In my mind In my mind -D.D.

0

Feb 21, 2014

Feb 21, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC

instrospect

Daydreaming

You occupy my mind In all my idle time Leave no corner No nook, no crevice Untouched You run around And around You run Chasing away all else In my mind In my mind -D.D.

12