Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
---

Will somebody please
Slow down the train
It's going through hills
And rough terrain

I tried to be the engineer
But that didn't work
This much is clear

I can't run, I can't roam
I can't DO LIFE ON MY OWN.

I'm on a ride that I can't bear
Filled with loneliness... despair

Not knowing how, which way to turn
I will go the way I've learned.

I won't harbor hatred in my heart
I know my love and I must part

But I don't think of him as bad
We've broken up, and that is sad

But I want my family
here on this site
Know that lately
I haven't been right...

My mind is distraught
And overwrought
I can hardly follow
My train of thought

Please forgive me
I'm slipping my gears
I'm haunted by fears
Have counted years

I'm sure sorry this affects you
It seems like I'm untrue

I want all poets here on HP
To very kindly PRAY FOR ME.

SEND GOOD THOUGHTS
In your own way.

I will also be in prayer

For I have now met The Engineer


SoulSURVIVOR
5/4/2015
Because of a broken heart
My brain has been affected
Some people here know that
I am mentally handicapped.
I am dealing with a brain dysfunction
And stress causes me to disassociate

I was severely damaged as a child
I don't use this as an excuse
But as an explanation

I never know from one day to the next what my mood or even my
Personality will be.

I have friends who I have not
Talked to in a while here
I APOLOGIZE

I DO LOVE YOU ALL !!!!!!

--
You are alone,
You need help,
Try to bring out the strength within you,
And self manage yourself.
18/11/2024
summer casts her spell
man cuts reeds for thatch
swallows under eaves.
new
I am thinking to invite you for a cup of tea

      i  imagine how
                            slow
                                    the teapot will boil
                                                              on the stove

the steam will colonize the air in the room ~
                                                          conquer the silent walls

politely
          we’ll sit near the window at the little oak table
will
    support our elbows,
                                    hands ~  the chins,
    face-to-face,
                          like a frozen perfume
                                                            in the air,
reading into each other's eyes
                                                  ~ the dreams

after,
        watching how the leaves are falling
                                                                as if fainting
 Nov 18 Thomas W Case
Bardo
Feelings are funny things
I used think feelings were the sweet feelings you felt when you were very young
When you were little
(Before the emptiness came)
These were what feelings were... to me.

So it used to baffle me when I got older
After I'd gone through some traumas of my own in life
And suddenly I found much to my dismay
That I no longer felt anything inside myself anymore
Only an emptiness, a numbness, a nothingness... a void
Those lovely early feelings had now all gone
I knew...I knew there was something wrong

But then I'd hear some people say
"Oh, I feel this way or I feel that way... I feel happy, I feel sad, I feel...
And I'd think to myself What! you still feel something inside yourself
Y'know Me! I don't feel anything anymore
All my old feelings that made me who I was they've  all gone
And I have no idea how to get them back again.

But then I'd think
Y'know when you say you feel...say you feel lonely or depressed or calm and confident
Overwhelmed or in control... whatever!
all these different emotions/ so called feelings
But these aren't.... these aren't the real feelings are they
Not like the feelings you had when you were a little child
Their just... aren't they just words describing mental states where/how you find yourself during the day
You feel sad probably because you're thinking sad thoughts
Or you feel happy because you're thinking happy thoughts
But sure I could do that
Yea! I could say well I feel... I feel hungry
Or I feel a bit apprehensive about something that's coming up
Or maybe I feel excited because I'm going out to a show somewhere
But these... these aren't the real feelings are they though
Not the lovely sweet feelings you had as a little child
No! Their not the same.

Y'know when a child comes into the world they start as a clean slate
They have no words at all to begin with
Yet even then they have these incredible sweet feelings inside that make them feel so happy and so special
It makes them feel like they own the whole world
Maybe... maybe their a symptom of the Divine. I...I don't know.

And I'd say this to someone sometimes and it's like they'd look at me kind of strangely
As if to say "What do you mean... when you say... the real feelings!
It's hard to write something about the aloneness from whence you come, trying to articulate your own experience, something that's very subjective. I've written quite a few poems now about the emptiness within and the sweetness long ago. And the Quest to return to that Paradise of old LoL.
I offered all my radiance
The brightest sun I had
Rays of splendance
Together, we're just bad

I gave it my all
Answered every call
Pillow for every fall
Always standing tall

Now, you walk alone
A meaning to atone
A place you call home
Bent and broken bones

I'm as free as I can be
Potentially happy
I weep for you and me
But, a new trajectory...

Must be set forth
DEFO not Libertarian mantra propaganda.

Synopsis with Artist's intent as requested:

Atlas Shrugged is a reflection of the speaker’s journey from wholehearted commitment to the painful, but ultimately freeing, decision to let go of a relationship. In this piece, the speaker acknowledges both the beauty and the limitations of what they shared, expressing a final, compassionate release from the weight they carried for their partner.

The title itself, Atlas Shrugged, evokes the mythological figure Atlas, burdened with the heavens, and suggests the speaker’s decision to unburden themselves from the weight of a relationship that has become unsustainable. This choice isn’t made lightly; instead, it comes after extensive emotional labor and a deep sense of responsibility for their partner, shown in lines like, "I offered all my radiance / The brightest sun I had." Here, the speaker affirms their efforts and care, highlighting that they gave everything within their capacity.

Lines like "Together, we're just bad" convey an honest acknowledgment that despite mutual attempts to improve, the relationship brings out the worst in both individuals. The speaker is painfully aware of the damage that clinging to this connection would cause them both. Despite the affection they clearly hold, they recognize that sometimes love alone isn’t enough to maintain a healthy partnership.

In the stanza "I gave it my all / Answered every call / Pillow for every fall / Always standing tall," the speaker reflects on their unwavering support and resilience throughout the relationship, underscoring the emotional toll of always being the strong, stable one. It’s a bittersweet farewell, where even as they step away, they feel both sorrow and liberation.

The closing lines, "I'm as free as I can be / Potentially happy / I weep for you and me / But, a new trajectory... / Must be set forth," signal the speaker’s acceptance of a new beginning. While the decision to part is accompanied by grief, there is a quiet optimism—a recognition that, with this release, they can now pursue a life that aligns with their own growth and happiness. Ultimately, Atlas Shrugged is a deeply personal ode to self-preservation, acceptance, and the courage to choose a path that honors one's own well-being.
One who self assuredly
lieves be a self governing code,

watch where you are going,
trust
the practiced habituation,

rising
to the upright pose,
standing
on my own two feet,
stepping
into my own time alive

with Justin Johnson mellow blues,

mellow mental slow dance,
walkin'
by the windows,
looking
through my own reflection,

at whats appealing
to me, please
see something you want and need
and can afford,
you hear

the window dresser
thinking
to himself,
see my artful display,
and imagine owning the desirable

baubles
on display, but, not today,
too long ago
to care, yet

fishing
for forgotten goods,
thinking today could be the day,
when all involving my ever after
happens
to ever
after mean what me and you
think ever and after
at once do mean

can we signal senses
we think we share,
no question,
I suppose,
the answer is yes, we share
the very air we breathe,
with music in it.

But, but, beware,
the back beat,
telling me I have wasted all my days,

I glance back,
and see my shadow,
so I laugh, inside, seeing my progress
into the light
of ever after all I lost…

asking strangers
for a few minutes
we can someday share, sure and certain,
it was as real as anything,
at the moment

our selves are
not ourselves, not
another pair
of people facing after all,

we form a bubble
to be in, only we two,

could be
we must imagine some sense
we feel we must squeeze
from sense
as common as
the air we share.
Consciously acknowledging how good a rainy day in fire season makes things.
Next page