#suggestion
I'm not a good lover, no good at hand in hand
Never not been exposed, still I pretend
The real me casually breaks free,
What do I do then?
No suggestion comes in
It's what goes around then comes around again and again,
When will it end?
Nobody knows...
...I let no one in so no one knows the situation
I'm not a good adult, I'm not a good friend
Never not been exposed, why do I still pretend
The real me awkwardly breaks free,
What do I do then?
I suggest hide the specimen within
It goes around then comes around again and again,
Is it going to end?
Nobody knows...
...search and rescue called off for no reason
I'm not a good man, I'm not a righteous person
Never not been exposed, I've given up pretendin'
The real me aggressively breaks free,
What do I do then?
Didn't we call each other friend?
What goes 'round, right 'round comes right 'round 'round again and again,
It's just not gonna end
Nobody knows...
©2024
Jan 26, 2024
Jan 26, 2024 at 4:43 PM UTC
Curtains blow
through tight closed panes
not a breath of wind
but the shape remains
no breeze has settled on my windowsill
outside the sleeping world is still
and yet those curtains wander where they will
I turn my back on flowered fingers
and try to sleep
but the feeling lingers
Oct 17, 2023
Oct 17, 2023 at 4:55 AM UTC
ℌ𝔢𝔯𝔢 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔠𝔲𝔟𝔦𝔠𝔩𝔢
𝔊𝔯𝔢𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢
ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔢𝔶𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔬𝔞𝔯𝔡
𝔎𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢
𝔐𝔢𝔫 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔬𝔫 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔶
𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔤𝔬
ℑ 𝔫𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔞𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔬
𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰
𝔗𝔦𝔩' 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔟𝔶
𝔖𝔬 𝔞𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱
𝔖𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔡𝔩𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 4:17 PM UTC
Hello suicide!
Its been awhile
Remember me?
Yer ol' buddy Kyle?
I need your assistance
To escape from this trial
Forgive me friend
If I'm unable to smile
Ah, yes! Kyle, of course!
Forgive me bud
If my voice does sound hoarse
I've been hanging around
Don't you see?
I'm glad you've swung by
To console in me
For my first recommendation
Is hanging
Yes, in fact
This is my plea
Might I suggest a rafter
Or perhaps a nice tree?
This ones on the house
Yeah, this one is free
Ah, yes! A hanging
Indeed!
But if I were to do that
A rope I would need
Not only that
But I could be rescued
And freed
Do you have another?
Please forgive me suicide
Forgive me for my greed
What else can I do?
Please consider my plead!
Ah, yes! I can do one more
But I'm growing tired and weak
And my neck is still sore
Take a handful of pills
And overdose
This I know you've tried
And you came really close
But you can't be easily rescued
And you don't need a rope
Do it! Destroy your dreams!
And trample your hopes!
Excellent! This one sounds great
For sure!
I do have a decease
And pills might be the cure
But what if I live
What if my body endures?
But this option has potential
And it has great allure
I'll consider this option
To you, I ensure
Well, well, well!
Look what we have here!
Looks like I'm successful
As if a death is near
Theree no need to panic
Theres no need to fear
However, I do need payment
So start paying in tears!
Now RIP my good friend
Its been fun mate, cheers!
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 2:18 PM UTC
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_I write to right the write-less, the unvoiced compendium of my experience. A
panoply of shadows between each line and behind the fumbled words miswritten
out of loyalty to the fiction I maintain. The letters which move beneath the page,
scintillating with suggestion, leaving their impression - a glimmer here, an echo
there; they are more honest than the fraught narrative that I deem fit to 'save'. I
write to right the write-less, to balance the unwieldy, to illuminate the intangible._
▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒░▒
Oct 17, 2020
Oct 17, 2020 at 2:52 AM UTC
Just a suggestion
just a thought, or sense
posting every poem
you've ever wrote
in a minute's, present tense
Overflowing over-stacking
over-zealous, enthusiastic
no one wants to read anthologies
it makes them trite, and plastic
So, for once my friend
I'll offer some advice
I've made the same mistake
posting everything, I ever did, too quick
making common rice, from all my sirloin steak
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
Once, twice, three times too many.
Sounds and shapes controlling the contrary.
Darkness, blackened abyssal, all of the above- Tricks and deception-
the leaving of love.
Lusting after loosing;
To find courage after fear..
Wishing and wanting those who once were dear.
Of course you'll find
your heart in pieces,
Not just one's two's or threes.
You'll find that a soul simply shatters
in a muted ambiguity.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 8:53 AM UTC
He was fully wounded,
But act like every thing was fine.
you had touched him once,
he is still on cloud nine.
Like you are his success,
You are his story line.
Without you he feels torn,
like life gives him a caution sign.
and I suggest, you should be with him,
Cause he dreams you as a valentine.
Yeah.! one more, the whole situations,
and dream I talked about, "It was mine"
Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 4:29 PM UTC
Lively silvery torments,
mere golden tingles,
hours never gone off.
I keep watching over you,
poetic genius,
****** genuine,
learned rebel,
sensitive archetype.
Could I forget your voice
and the thousands fascinations of yours?
Utopia, my pirate….
It’s only my foolish desire
a dense kaleidoscope
of languid coincidences,
all vain,… but certainly
mystic consolations.
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC
I look for your eyes
in his
I look for your voice
in his
I look for your taste
in his
I look for you
in him !
I close my eyes
feel your skin
feel your hands
feel you !
your breath
your heart beating
I open my eyes
... and I see
the darkness
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 9:35 AM UTC
If you aren't going to give me any time it's okay.
But don't act like you do
just to meet your preconceived ideas about friendship.
You might give me a compliment from time
and support me in what I do.
But then completely disregarding your promises
isn't okay with me.
So I’m going to find someone who
can give me as much as I can give them.
And for shame, I’m not yours
and your not mine.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 3:56 PM UTC
How is it playing in your head about now? Does it roll the inside circumference, from left ear past eyes to right, following through the back and around to your left again? Shall I whisper it once more, the sentence with which this did not start? Please don't make me repeat myself. By your blush, I know you heard me correctly. It's just how you bite your lip, that is indecipherable, whether you agree or not. Let's not leave this business between us unfinished...
It needs a title.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 8:00 PM UTC
If Jesus is the question,
What is the question?
Is it, let's say,
Youth disaffection?
Kids need to be taught to say,
"Back off' to drugs and bullies these days,
Jesus as a forever friend,
To wisdom their lives to wend,
How can we reach more of them?
In this modern, digital age,
Introductions need to be made,
If an issue, is, indeed,
Youth disaffection,
Is Jesus the answer to this question?
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
*There are
two types
of people,
but only
one evil.*
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
I love you is not a question,
So I don’t need any answer,
I love you is not a suggestion,
So I don’t need any response.
I love you is not a promise,
So I don’t need any swear,
I love you is not a sentence,
So I don’t need any end.
One thing is for sure on my mind,
I love you is an answered prayer,
For it’s a confirmation above,
That I’m a human with heart.
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC
Tick, tock
We count the seconds, minutes,
hours, days,
years, decades
of our lives.
Why?
Time is a man-made construct.
We're taught to define our lives by it,
confine our very selves by it
from the time of our birth,
counting down until our death.
One, two, three, four.
Stop the counting.
Do what you have to, but then...
As far as I'm concerned
time should not be a rule,
but merely a suggestion.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
I could make a home in the warmth of his arms,
my cheek pressed to his chest,
his pulse puncturing my ear,
breathing echoing in the small space.
The blue pools of his eyes could redefine the sky.
My ribcage could be occupied by his fingers
and we could be happy.
Sometimes I wonder if he was born
with those thin black fibers perfectly spread across his jaw
and that tired, intelligent shadow
beneath his eyelashes.
It was the swift eyebrow raises that got me.
It was the tiny smirks from across the room,
the glances,
the suggestion.
We were shoulders brushing,
eyes nestled on one another,
lowered voices,
pauses.
We were dangerous.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC