#platitudes
In this life
We are so often told to be strong
To keep going
To overcome
But sometimes the
Greatest strength lies in
Simply allowing ourselves to feel
To acknowledge the pain
The hurt
The exhaustion
And to have somebody bear witness
Without judgment or platitudes
There's a figure in my mind
Grasping at her skull
Open at the top
Where the shadows flood out
The eternal struggle between
The warrior and the woman
The soldier and the soul
And somewhere beneath the noise
Beneath the duty
A small voice whispers
"You don't have to fight anymore,
You just have to be seen."
Oct 28, 2025
Oct 28, 2025 at 5:29 PM UTC
Dance is the shape that body gives to music.
As your dream unfolds, words fly backwards at the speed of sleep.
He disliked the word “stalker.” He preferred “scientist of solitude.”
Leaving a message to his former self, written in pills.
His muse turned out to be mere longing in ordinary darkness.
This was the choice: hear the music or feel the cold at the base of your spine.
I asked your heart, “Sit next to me?” You apostrophized to a tree.
Order cannot contain itself. There is always remainder. Flecks float in sunlight.
Stop laughing at my jokes and let me get on with this suicide note.
You stared at a white index card, waiting for a prayer to appear
A rhetoric of purpose is a philosophy of decay.
Keeping darkness at bay with the failing light of poetry.
Aug 22, 2021
Aug 22, 2021 at 10:47 AM UTC
It'll be alright
It'll be okay
Little white lies I tell every single day
Well, that is if you believe what Doug has to say
I believe they’re true
It’s not a platitude
It's an attitude
If you want to be a schmuck, that's up to you
But me… I ain't got time to feel blue
Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 9:53 PM UTC
platitudes and attitudes
she said
“to find good love,
be receptive, never deceptive,
always ever, never never.”
I listened, warming,
but warning her,
“rhyming is the sophistry
of those who cannot
decide what to write
next”
I drove away,
in just my pajama top,
(my bottoms
retired at the crime scene)
lest she
****** macabre me
like in an Agatha Christie.
I foresaw a drama
developing of her
hanging me by
my bottoms pj,
knotted two by too
tightly trite my leggings
drawn to prevent
the rhyming of my breathing,
each pant to
peeve me
into panting:
one leg named
moon and
the other,
June.
so I decided
what the heck!
I’ll go firstly,
hanging her early,
for the greater sake
of literature
Sep 21, 2024
Sep 21, 2024 at 8:58 AM UTC
On starry nights,
i think of the comets and meteors
that graced the starlit skies of past nights,
of falling stars i chased, as i uttered my wishes
before they disappeared at the far end
and somewhere out there....exploded
all these...were mine...they used to be mine
to hear you say, i was your rainbow...was divine
i was your sun, your source of light,
your moon...your accompanying glow at night...
.............you said..................
day or night, it wouldn't matter...
nothing could shield my glitter
we were bound by long strings of glowers,
ties.....that could never be severed
for, i.....was your universe.
yet....the moon, the sea and the tides,
the wind and the rain.....all connived,
all decided: for now, things musn't jibe
all worked together...to create space
all made the earth move, on a different pace.
we used to be rich with all the things,
.....suddenly, we ran out of everything.
our world...slowly crumbled
our paths followed suit, and swerved
yes, we were clearly breathing
but, WE....had stopped existing,
promises, declarations, then uttered,
became platitudes...stale, and dead.
i am now,
my own Universe.
Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
June 3, 2016
Aug 10, 2019
Aug 10, 2019 at 10:49 PM UTC
i live an aimless life
no goals no ambitions
just wandering here and there
always on a journey
from somewhere to anywhere
going everywhere getting nowhere
with lots of money and time
life then only truly lived
always on a journey
to the moon from the deep
to the east from the west
to the poles from dancing poles
from hedonistic feasts to orgiastic flesh
from serene silence in the highest coldest peaks
to traitorous tyrant in murderous boardroom bloodbathing takeover
life's a journey and I'm loving it
only fools believe and excuse failures as a journey
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 2:27 AM UTC
they say that
the centre will hold;
it's a pity
i'm not
centred
at all
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 12:00 PM UTC
Age ain’t nuthin' but a number, they said.
Only each of those numbers
means you’re one step closer to being dead.
Sure, I can still wear a short dress.
But why would I—
there’s no need to impress.
The hormones have fled, and in their stead
I have wisdom and serenity. I’ve said goodbye
to the burning desire to coax someone into bed.
Yes, I could hike the Himalayas, if I try;
but my arthritis means
every step of the way, I’d cry.
I play the guitar, but don’t get too far,
before I feel it in my elbow.
Didja notice Jimmy Page
rubs his arm?I guess he didn’t get the memo--
the one that says it’s just a number, your age.
I’m here to tell you age makes you humbler.
NO ONE my age says “age is nothing but a number.”
Numbers mean something, they add and subtract;
by the time you’re my age, you’re in your second act.
In fact the second act is closing, I’m moving on to the third—
the final act--where you’ve got to sum it all up, but, rest assured:
I’m not pining for my lost youth,
when I had better health,
but less truth.
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 9:20 PM UTC
I don't know why
you say these platitudes of goodness
Simply repeating the same thing
over and over
broken, scratching records
skipping needles
and hearts
You're not coming from a place of a pure soul and a beautiful spirit
I don't know what it is
if it's indifference,
jealousy, envy...
wishful thinking?
Well our boat is sinking
A perfect cliche
"say what you mean and mean what you say"
I can't do ambiguous
I hope you find peace with your demons
angry, gutteral enemies
dragging you to hell
at night
not kicking and screaming
you cannot find the light
from a place of selfish
egotistical narcissism and intentions to only help yourself
Good luck Chuck.
Cherie Nolan© 2016
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 1:59 PM UTC
Nurses know best,
Better than the rest,
Nurses do the basics,
Drugs for all,
Including Lasix,
Never mind, they'll say,
Better tomorrow than today,
You'll improve each day,
Never mind, be home soon,
That's their daily tune,
Never mind, never mind,
Words fixed firmly in time,
Better than the rest---
Nurses know best!!
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
I tried to be cordial with inactivity
washing it with weeping juice like a pardoned effigy
but the diamonds of determination were so wrapped in mind debris
that I threw away a fortune in potential
The smiles of the platitudes are louder than their laughs
An appeasing of their attitudes I warrant with the gaffes
of an undertaker's underling bestowing upon epitaphs
another deadened and deprived credential
*Seeing days in ways that never did occur to me
Every end a mending by default, a sour recipe
for compromise eroding in a rusty *** of empathy*
The dentist rubbed his fingers when he saw my gritted teeth
No sermon on the mount from me, more a mumble on the heath
My incisor is a tack that would support a giant's wreath
Thorns of novocaine will numb my Christmas wish
For the sake of universal order I will freeze a yawn
Mostly harmless said a hitchhiker of Earth so I can spawn
a batch of clones to live on hold where all the battle lines are drawn
I'll zip up and in the universal order I'll languish
*Seeing nights in ways that never did occur to me
Every satellite a telecast of fault, a sour recipe
for sleeping juice to boil over in Big Dipper's empathy*
Where's a pound of flesh when needed? I've grown tired of these ribs
On the grill of soggy marrow, hungry haunts will have first dibs
Call on William Blake to send the weepers to their cribs
Wishful thinking I'll preserve beneath the floorboards
With a hand in nothing new and an incisor in the usual
intestine chains surround my motivation's hot pursual
Don't read too much into my implied acceptance of a dual
with a messenger of fact's implicit hoards
*Seeing days in ways that never did occur to me
Every end a mending by default, a sour recipe
for compromise eroding in an empty *** of sympathy*
Sound the bugle for my bed is made, I'm rested for detention
Solitaire I'll play in my confinement for the crime of sought attention
I revolted the philosophers in plugging my intention
I would not concede that lab rats had it worse
The satellites are full and bright, the shadows walk on lakes tonight
I'll dream of sleep but eyes will play me in my bedroom's voided sight
Lay with me and sigh and the elastic laws of nature might
halt the quivering continuum of fate's forsaken course
*Seeing nights in ways that never did occur to me
Every channel plays the same old cooking show's ensoured recipe
Compromise a minor seasoning in liver-flavoured empathy*
04 15 14
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC