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I lie aside, subside
in pools of bright,
ice cold water

I look into thine eyes
in shades of night
skies and evening stars

in heights of towers
I feel the power
of gravity pulling me

and oh, how the wind
comes to an end
and again will never blow

and oh, how this pool
loses its cool
then leaves you alone, afloat.
Rich Apr 19
In that moment I was in my chair yet out of my body
somewhere in the sky’s gentle hair
in strands thick and stretching out past Neptune
I was gone
I was made of flesh yet not at all
my pores had pride pouring out
I sneezed out envy, coughed up anxiety
sadness left with a tear
anger was brushed off my beard
happiness followed the next breath away
and I was left with a soul in the shape of a poem
so it looked like…?
Nothing I could explain but I remained in a place of spiritual terrain
had telescopes where eyes should have been
I made my heart rise and the sun beat
I took a step into a step-less reason
stayed afloat for the next eight seasons
and came back slowly
descending into a cadaver that took its veins for granted
and resurrected a black body that was made as a result of gods needing a hobby

I was meditating.
And the world above awaits you too
if you seek it.
Dear whom this may concern,
You have never seen someone drop dead before your eyes, have you? No, of course not, no one normal would have experienced such trauma. But I’ve never been a normal kid, have I? Seeing your step-father stab your mother to death while laughing like a maniac and threatening that you are next doesn’t leave you in the ‘normal’ zone. It doesn’t make a good memory either, trust me. Still, here I am, writing this… this letter that I’m sure no one will ever read… Don’t look at me like that. When you grow up as I did, nothing will disappoint you anymore. It’s one of the perks of living without anything or anyone, but I can’t say I can enjoy it more. I’m pretty sure that whoever you are, have a perfect life with loving parents and a band of amazing friends. Huh. That’s more than what my life offered and what I will ever get. Listen here champ, you don’t need me, or my life story in your life, so be a good boy or girl and go running back to your parents, forget about this as if you never found this letter, and go on living your oh so perfect life.

You didn’t listen to what I told you to do. Never heard that ‘curiosity killed the cat’? No? Good, because it’s time you leave your perfect little bubble and see the world from the perspective of people like me. People who were forgotten and shunned by society because they assumed this and assumed that. People who experienced the worst side of humanity and learned to live with what scars it left behind. It’s time for the people to know the truth to the dark side of the world.

I was only 5, ******* it! 5! Most children at five are out in the park playing with friends and having fun, and me? I am staying at home as if I was my step-father’s ***** and bringing him whatever he wants while he was either lounging on the couch watching TV or playing poker with his friends. Beers, cigarettes, and everything else that he needs desperately. Oh, and you ask me why I can’t just ignore him? Scoff You don’t know how much damage a broken beer bottle can do. My mum was never home, forced by that disgrace of a monster to work overtime every single day. Every time that I see her, she always seemed about to just fall over and sleep right there and then, but then he would order her to make him something to eat, not even letting her rest. **** the Fates, what did I ever do to deserve this? I’ve personally never seen him hit my mother, but from what he does to me, I’m pretty sure that he does that all the time when I was asleep.

I can only remember so much about my real dad. He went missing when I was 3, but I can still hazily remember his smile. He always teases me, and we are the closest we can be. Yes, I was a naive 3-year-old, but I from what my mother told me, we loved to role play. It was the definition of the perfect family. We have a future; we had hope. Sigh The pure concept of that seemed so surreal now, even if it was just a dream that will never come true.

I will never understand why my mother married that man; I can only guess. I guess that mum wanted me to have a father figure in my life, it was her effort to fix this broken family. He was kind to us for the first few months, we were happy, but just like that, when a spark of hope ignited, he changed. Changed into the monster he is now; changed from the nice man in nice clothes to a devil from the deepest part of ****. Everyone has a monster inside them, but it’s their choice to control it or not. He... he not only doesn’t control it, he lets it be, he encourages it; he is the reincarnation of pure evil, feeding on others pain and hurt. He is the definition of a cold-hearted wolf in a sheep’s skin, and when the skin falls off, people that trusted him will soon be his next meal, cut up and eaten without a twinge of sympathy.

I simply cannot forget that fateful day, the day that the monster took away the only family and the only person I trusted from me. I remember the crazed and happy look on his face vividly when he stabbed my mother to death. I could still hear her pleas ringing in my ears, and the laughter emanating from the monster, enjoying every part of this heartless ******. He was not drunk, oh far from it, he did this out of boredom. How twisted could he be? He turned stalked towards me, a cruel, sadistic smile deforming his face. The world was already crashing down around me, and the words he said next haunted me forever. He merely said, “ Your next” He’s covered with blood, half of his face splattered with the blood of my mothers, him mutilating her body and flinging her corpse onto the floor like a dead fish when it no longer amuses him. His eyes were cold and dark, hollow and bloodthirsty. I shudder at how much bloodshed he could cause; he’s a complete psychopath.

So I did the only thing I can, I ran. Call me a coward, but what else would you do? Wait for your death? I ran and ran, I was blind by fear, I don’t even care where I ran, I just wanted to escape from him, but just as much from the scene etched in my mind. I didn’t cry, I just ran. Monsters don’t sleep under your bed, they scream inside your head. My world is gone, the world is messed up. I just can’t, not anymore, my trust and hope were utterly shattered, I… can’t. I’m dead inside, and I am only a shell of what I was. I just wanted to drop dead and leave this world of pain behind. But I can’t, I have a job to do. Revenge.

For once, I’m trusting Fate to make him pay his debts. Everyone is merely a servant of Fate, and I am willing to be the one to collect his debt. I do not care anymore if blood is on my hands, my humanity waned long ago. All choices come with a price; all debts are to be paid full even unto death. His decision will come back to haunt him, whether it’s him or his descendants… and I’m waiting.

Listen to the whispers… consider this a warning…run … I have a job, and I tend to finish what I started.

Sleep well.
Please No
Please Go home
Please Let go of me
Please Don’t touch me
Please Go away
Please Don’t do this
Please I won’t tell anyone
Please Get off me
Please You’re hurting me
Please I’m bleeding
Please I can’t breathe
Please I can’t take it anymore
Please Stop

If only I was able to say what I was thinking
Then maybe I wouldn’t be sinking
Trying to stay afloat
But I can’t quite reach the boat
I am not a strong swimmer
The waves are getting higher
Tangled in the seaweed
Afraid to bleed
the fear of the sharks
Are eating me apart
Ashamed of being a fish
Who’s scared of being squished
If the same horrible event occurred to 5 different people, not one of the would have responded the exact same way.
No way is wrong!
Purcy Flaherty Mar 2018
A little green frog is trying to catch my eye!
A little green frog is trying to catch my eye!
It’s a tadpole-lite; it's lily lies,
It's sticky poison and feminine whiles,
A little green frog is trying to catch my eye!
Hoppity, hoppity, hoppity, drama!
A little green frog is trying to catch my ear!
A little green frog is trying to catch my ear!
It's mouth is full of flies and it's belly's full of lies.
A little green frog trying to catch my ear!
Hoppity, hoppity, hoppity, drama!
A little green frog is trying to catch my boat!
A little green frog is trying to stay afloat!
It's got two knocked knees and two bent legs,
a plastic smile and a crazy head.
A little green frog is trying to catch my boat!
Hoppity, hoppity, hoppity, drama!
A little green frog is trying to catch my eye!
A little green frog is trying to catch a ride!
It's up and down all night long;
splashing about in the water,
A little green frog's still tryin' to catch my ...
A little green frog's still tryin' to catch my...
A little green frog's tryin' to catch a ride.
There's no point in trying to engage with little green frogs!
They're quite mundane, just splashing about catching flys
please find the link to the song below
A Doubles Oct 2018
I've been afloat,
Captain a boat.
Control the motion in the ocean 'til I'm getting soaked.
In a skull,
Cross bones
One eyed pirate and the sea men found the treasure trove.
Drop the anchor on a beach,
In a cove,
Burying it so deep
Dig a hole.
I can't let nobody see,
*** the spot,
Exit marks and leave the dock.
Replace 'a' with 'her' When said with a Birmingham accent, they sound the same.
Zowie Georgia Jan 2013
Pretending nothing's wrong
her rage walks through her feet,
spiralling up to the expression on her face,
and the lack of.
A clown with many faces she is
but smiling now lacks feeling
because her happiness left
and only questions remain:
Does he still love her?

In her yearnings for an embrace
her arms are still unable to open,
as though her affections are preserved
to memories that cannot be bettered
because she's scared to be vulnerable.

Now they sit awkwardly,
though the longing of a touch lingers somewhere.
A distant look through an embellished picture
now a reminder of the connection they knew so well.

Met by her resistance before,
he fears more rejection,
through this frustration he shouts about life,
how he feels less attractive,
the mirror he too would drown in
if coughing didn't keep him afloat.

Breathing eachother's frustration
the atmosphere now speaks a foreign tongue,
the words that were once easily said  
now relics in the air.

His eyes well up when nobody can see,
because the love he feels for her hurts him inside.
Her anger hurts more everytime she ingores him,
and she can no longer dicipher who's suffering more.

What do you do
when Love's penetrated with too much power,
too much illusion?
What is to come
when the expression of One's divinity is too stubborn to say
**I am sorry
ryn Sep 2014
Sun to set, to herald the arrival of my moon
Prepare my vessel for an odyssey, golden mast and all
Best be on my way, best be soon...
Done this a hundred times come every nightfall

This night, I wish it different, wish it otherwise
My head isn't where it's supposed to be
Swimming in the clouds, in the star spangled sky
Speaking of plans to which the heart would agree

Time is now, it's time to finally drift away
Let go of all worldly trepidations
Hold all unfounded apprehensions at bay
Be brave to pursue fantastical notions

This journey ahead, I want to immortalise
Don't think I'd want to turn back
Leave behind the pillow stifled cries
With the moon as my guide across an ocean of black

"Close your eyes and just feel the drift
Know that the stars are protectively watching
Picture your moon; her hands bearing a gift
A gift you'd soon receive, after much longing"

"Feel the water, like a thousand hands propping you afloat
Passing you over to more hands that lay ahead
Lurching forward gently, this ethereal boat
Rest now upon your giant floating bed"

I took that leap of faith... I'm sailing
Cresting and bobbing towards my moon
I hear the stars for they are singing
Lulling me by with a celestial tune

On my way, now on this nighttime adventure
Don't think I'll ever look back
Together this night would span forever
Floating endlessly in a sea of black
Valsa George Jan 2018
Mind, like a deciduous forest
has lost all its foliage,
all leaves torn away
by the autumnal blasts

The brain where great schemes were concocted
is now an abyss where spiders sway
It is bare – dismally barren
of all memories – sweet and sour
Like a kite afloat in the boundless sky
moving nowhere, but as the wind directs,
cut out from the past, turned from the present
with the future yet to surge from the abyss
or like serpents intertwining,    
hissing in turmoil within the brain,
unable to sense the gusty blast,
or hear the whispering air,
dead to sounds that disturb,
deaf to songs that soothe,
like a phantom he moves weird,
drifting far away
to a space and time impenetrable  
with nothing to make the mind agog
or depress it to let out a sigh.

Loitering on roads without hurrying feet
with no bliss coming on the way
to run or hasten to embrace
or fear to be missed sore
passing through dark labyrinthine tunnels
forever barred with no exit
churned in oblivion, oblivious of all,
he remains a spectral facsimile
of his onetime self
plummeting into a black hole

The pulse of a heart beat
is all that keeps him alive,  
all else is dead…… !  
with dreary nights ahead
that shall not know another morrow
Only others can throw a little light in the dark lives of its hapless victims!

(With a heart heavy with gratitude, let me acknowledge my poet friend -  Kim Johanna Baker who gave sunshine to my poem who has thus honored me several times !)
Waynepatrick Aug 2018
My faith is a small boat,
With a structure so frail,
With winds that disregard it's sail,
I am afraid it won't stay afloat.

My faith is a plucked leaf,
Cut off from it's life source,
Soaring through a coarse course,
The leaf grieves.

My faith is a dried stream,
Scorched by the summers heat,
Overthrow from it's seat,
Forced out of it's regime.

My faith is on the verge of a cliff,
Holding on,struggling to survive,
It may slip and take a dive,
And finally plunder to it's death.
     All this is true,it is all true.
      Forgive me for healing in front of you.
laura Jul 2018
three chord-ed pop song
like still afloat
i'm high and i'm free
spending all of my money
on gucci and designer
look like i'm rich to feel better
millennial cry for help
american dreams are easier
to chase if i stay asleep
v V v Mar 2011
His nights are restless, endless dreams
of young men climbing ladders.
The ones who stop to fix their vests
are left below, row after row
there seems no end, distorted faces,
silent screams through bottle bottom glass.

Twenty winters wishing that
the dream might finally end,
he tilts his head and looks at God
above his bed, a crucifix upon the wall,
his Jesus hangs and bleeds for sins
of lesser men but for him there is no comfort,
he can't escape the scene of drifting death
and flotsam, sailors drinking blood
from swollen corpses, greedy
in the eyes like the sharks
that encircle them.

When daylight comes
still no relief, he sits among
his salty sheets and chokes
on waves of guilt. Deceit
will always be his master,
every day no different
than the rest
today he’s had enough,
the dead,
they will not cease their torment.

Twenty winters waiting
but the dead won’t go away.

The boys who stopped to fix their vests
The man with gaping wound in chest
The burning wreckage going down
The screams of those who soon would drown
The oily water thick as mud
The utter chaos, flesh and blood
The rabid thirst he could not quench
afloat in pools of human stench

He goes outside and lies upon
the grass, a Navy Colt revolver
in one hand, a toy soldier in the other,
he puts the gun against his head
and pulls the trigger.

Twenty winters

Twenty winters

In memory of Charles B. McVay,  Rear Admiral US Navy, commanding officer of the USS Indianapolis, sunk buy a Japanese torpedo, July 30, 1945 III
False Poets Oct 2017
The Talmud Teaches...
With respect to his son, a father is obligated to circumcise him, to redeem him [if he is a firstborn], to teach him Torah, to marry him off, and to teach him a craft...he is also

obligated to teach him to swim...(Kiddushin 29a)

lay awake when the house is silent,
doing maths furiously in the head,
sleeping can be keeping while doing my calculus,
knowing in advance a conclusion comes coined
in only two colors, black or red

the question simple, did I meet my obligations?

and your read the passage for the umpteenth time,
and the same thought interferes as always,
should the order not be reversed,
the first thing to be fulfilled,

teach them to swim

based on experience life arrives in sequential, repeating waves,
purposed to drown the weak with no pretending that waters,
salt or sweet matters, so first order is business ought be survival preparation and

teach them to swim

if they can swim, stay afloat, then they can then comprehend
the glory of distinguishing right over wrong,
get their priorities straight, that saving others,
especially those you placed on the starting line of life,
is the first principle and overplants anything else when you

teach them to swim

my eyes see the tally, why, they are red! could it be lack of sleep?

I am smiling when I am lying,
teach them to swim always first,
but not enough, one must do it well, well,
and even then, better, 
as all else will, from the well, follow, when you

teach them to swim


Valsa George Aug 2017
When in dark despair drowned
I was thinking, joy was nowhere around
A gentle breeze from the upland peaks
Came and patted on my cheeks

Softly whispering- ‘joy is here’

When the last ray of hope had been snuffed out
From the vapid plane of my arid heart,
A cluster of orchids, beautiful and ***
Smilingly nodding their heads on my way

Sweetly murmured- ‘joy is here

When I feared the earth was caving in
Under my feet with no chance to win
A butterfly with rainbow colors
Alighting on a bunch of flowers

Euphoniously hummed- ‘joy is here’

When all my yearnings got shattered
And sustenance alone was what mattered
The blazing sun from behind the hills
Wiping away all morbid chills

Affirmed beaming-‘joy is here

When I thought I was drifting afloat
Without any moorings on my boat
A crystal drop precariously balancing
On the serrated edge of a leaf dancing

Confidently chimed-‘joy is here’

When darkness settles on the scene
When life loses all tinge of green
When days seem inert and grey
Don’t be in a hurry to say
“Joy is nowhere around”

Before you jump to conclusions dismal
And write off life as abysmal
Wait to see the cycle of seasons change
From winter’s haze to spring’s lovesome range!
Ma Cherie Mar 2017
I have so many musings
my hands they are complaining,
cuz I can't get them all right,
an so quickly jot them down,

An I feel that I'm connected,
to all my friends and my dear neighbors
an all that I can hear is just is that sound!

Of sweet snowflakes as they're falling,
in the silence sweet n pure,
an so softly as I hear them,
touch the ground,

An soon I'll imagine,
oh a winter wonderland,
in a covering in all you see around,

Those lovely floating wisps,
are so intricate-amazing
those parachuting sprites,
here they abound!

If you ever catch one close up,
well you really really oughta,
cuz the labyrinthine in sight
it will astound!

They are happy little ships afloat,
with an octagonal shape,
landing on all  life,
once sorely browned,

Every child and adult,
is now looking up in awe,
as there smiles turning up ,
instead of frowned!

I thought that I was lost,
an I'd never get to see,

but in poetry it seems-
that  I am found!

Ma Cherie © 2017
Happy poetry! Yeah!?  Lol ; ) ❤❤❤ hope you are all well!
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