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Sarah Flynn Nov 2020
it's not that I don't
want to die anymore.
I still do some days.

I am still not okay,
but that's okay.

the way that I stay alive
when I want to disappear

is that I look for one good thing
in every day of my life.

this morning, I made
some pancakes with
blueberries in the batter.
I really like pancakes.

yesterday, the sunset
was gorgeous. it's usually
not so pretty this time of year.
I love watching sunsets.

I could hate every part
of my life, and honestly,
sometimes I still do.

and yes, there are still
bad things and scary moments
and breakdowns and pain.

and yes, sometimes there's
more bad than good,

but if I wasn't here,
I wouldn't have eaten
those pancakes this morning.

I wouldn't have seen that
beautiful sunset last night.

I would never have gone
on that impromptu road trip
to the city where I grew up in.

I would never have gone
to college, or even graduated
from my old high school.

I would never have learned
to speak Mandarin, or how
to play chess, or the way that
the gears look inside of those
antique grandfather clocks.

I would never have met
the love of my life.

I would never have realized
how amazing love can feel,
or that I am deserving of it.

I would never have seen
my friend's baby daughter.

he'd be telling her all about
how much I would've loved her,
and he would be right.

but I would never have
loved her, because we
would never have met.

there are so many things
that I still haven't done

and so many places
that I still haven't seen

and so many people
that I still haven't met

and so many memories
that I still haven't made.

and yes, maybe the truth
is that at the end of it all,
I will still hate it.

maybe ten years from now,
I'll still want to die some days.

maybe there will always
be more bad than good,

but there will always be good.

the reality is that I don't have
an endless amount of time.

the clock is ticking.
one day, I will die,
just like everyone else.
I can't change that.
none of us can.

when those thoughts
come creeping back in,
and I don't see the point in
anything anymore, I pause.

I remind myself that
it's not logical for me
to end my life any earlier
than it's meant to end.

death is inevitable.
eventually, it will
be my time to die.
but today is not that day.

so if I die, and one day I will,
it won't be at my own hands.

life is too short, and
I don't want to leave
depressed and crying.
I want to go out laughing.

I want to die with
some good memories,
not just bad ones.

so I stay alive for
all of the good things.
I stay alive for pancakes.
I stay alive for sunsets.

I stay alive for those moments
where I laugh so hard that
my stomach starts to hurt.

I stay alive for the sound
of raindrops hitting our roof.

I stay alive for all good things.
even if they're little, even if
most people would
find them insignificant.

and that's okay.

if you've ever felt
the way that I feel,

I'm not here to tell you
that life gets better.

I don't know anything
about your life, or
about the battles that
you are fighting inside.

I don't know you.
I can't promise you that
your life will get better.

but I can promise you
that if you look closer,
there will be good things.

stay alive because you
need to feed your cat.
stay alive to see the beach.
stay alive to find your
new favorite movie.
stay alive to read that
book that you keep
saying you'll read.
stay alive for the
warmth of your clothes
fresh out of the dryer.
stay alive because
the cactus on your
windowsill will die
without you there.
stay alive to see clouds
shaped like funny animals.
stay alive to find a
four-leaf clover.
stay alive because you
haven't beat your
high score yet in
that video game.

stay alive for yourself.
stay alive for your family.
stay alive for your friends.
stay alive for your pets.
stay alive for your children,
or your future children.
stay alive for your coworkers.
stay alive for the homeless man
who you give a dollar to when
you pass him every day.
stay alive for the people who
secretly rely on you, who
read your poetry and listen
to your songs and feel
changed by you, even
if you'll never meet them.

and if you have no one,
then stay alive for me.

I care about you.
I don't have to know you
to be inspired by you.

it takes strength to
stay alive when you
don't want to live,

and for that, you are braver
than you will ever know.

so stay alive because
you still have a life.

stay alive for whatever
you'd miss if you weren't.

stay alive because maybe
it's true. maybe you're right.
maybe things won't get better,

but you won't know that
if you aren't here to see it.
Sachin Subedi Jan 2019
Earth is alive
Universe is alive
The milky way
The time is alive
Space is alive
The stratosphere
The clouds are alive
Air is alive
The grass is alive
The plants are alive
The pets
The wolf is alive
The alive lion
The deer is alive
All fleshes
The leaf is alive
The clay is alive
The sense alive
The brain
The man is alive
The man
The sheep is alive
The time is alive
The space
The dead is alive
The life is alive
The present is alive
Everything is alive
In its own wilderness
The wilderness is alive
Alive you are
Alive I am
robin Feb 2015
look me in the eyes oh my god please cut it all off,
my limbs have grown too long legs like ropes
anchoring me on a mortal plane.cut up careless fingertips, blood and sentience in a wineskin trap.
every day a dream in the way that makes you sick,christ is this real?
am i real?angles jutting in ways they shouldnt.everything bends the world bows to me
while i try to rip cataracts from my eyes.
this could be a hymn but its more of an envoi, a sacrament or a sacrifice -
BLOOD & SWEAT & FIREWORKS, entoptic panoptic neurotic too heavy to move my hands,
shackled to a sense of dread, something is happening.something is coming.december salt,
drooling vitriol and vanity,
flooding the floor with apotheosis.suitheism soaking through my shoes.i am
unclenching, fingers uncurling like petals.feet deep in decomposing verses,
gospel of judas, gospel of blooming a sick flower: titan arum, corpse plant
cotton against your bleeding gums,
shivering in august sun.yellowed bruises like old bones, stained teeth,
varying stages of illness.dry throats begging for salt.your milksop mouth,
chipping your teeth on glaciers, apologizing to the arctic you never meant to grow so cold
i carved all my soft edges into things that ****, shocked when i became
alone. i made myself into a knife and now i dont know why everyone i touch
bleeds. is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive? is this how it feels to burn alive?
delved so deep in to a dream
I got lost along the way it seems
woke up in a nightmare
murmuring things I didn't mean
and now the clock is ticking
a pendulum of searing pain
backwards, forwards and repeat
at least for me the pain is sweet
to be reminded of my shortcomings
to rekindle the flame of life's deceit
sleepless sleeping is a curse
and lifeless living I feel is worse
with every breath a problem unearthed
spirit and flesh, love and hate
I know not which will falter first
forgive my potential for that's what hurts
having something you forgot how to use
my self worth
my local church
and any gift I had from birth
back to my sleepless sleep I go
in to a realm of the unknown
where I break bottles with the lifeless living
and learn the dead can not keep giving
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
**I am alive
Jaicob May 2021

                                        stay alive
                                   stay alive stay a
                                live stay alive stay a
                                 live stay alive stay
                                    alive stay alive
                                        stay alive

                                        stay alive
                                   stay alive stay a
                                live stay alive stay a
                                  live stay alive stay
                                      alive stay alive
                                              stay alive
                                                stay ali
                                                ve sta
                                               y al
            ­                                 |-/
A semicolon is a piece of punctuation used when an author chooses to continue the sentence even though they could end it with a full stop easily. Therefore, the semicolon is used as a symbol of suicide awareness- the choice to keep writing your life's sentence until it comes to a conclusion. I believe in you no matter what difficulties you're facing. Keep writing your story. It will be worth it; I promise.
To cast a shadow, you gotta walk in the sun
but I sure ain't walkin' - I'm on the run
To get through tomorrow, you gotta live through today
But I sure ain't livin' - I'm fading away

But that's o.k.
That's o.k.
I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive

To find your happiness, you must first be free
But I sure ain't happy - 'cause I sure ain't free

I ain't free
I ain't free
But I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive

Too many miles separate me from my past
Too many years I've spent wandering
Too many days I sit and I look into my glass
And my past comes slowly thundering

I once loved one woman unconditionally
Planned to romance her endlessly

She left me
She left me
But I'm alive, I'm alive

Yeah, I'm still alive
I'm alive
I'm alive
This is a song. Outlaw Country.
Mona Mar 2017
I am the greatest poet alive.

In my body, I am the greatest poet alive,
In my continent, I am the greatest poet alive-
Yesterday, I was…

Today, I am the worst poet alive,
Because I know that yesterday
I was at the peak of my poetic diffusion,
Inspiration stayed the night,
and greatness happened to have occurred,
So yesterday, I was the greatest poet alive,
in my population-of-one continent.

Today I'm just a jealous bitter soul,
Cause I know I wasn't good enough
for inspiration to stay,
Today I know that inspiration fears commitment,
I resembled everything appalling,
I was desperate and needy,
So inspiration left me for another poet
without a second glance.

Because inspiration doesn't want to be
chained down to the grounds of monotony,
A room with four walls is all I could offer,
And it needs a castle where it can trespass
to the wilderness of the sky any time,
It needs the freedom where it can soar
above and look down
in fascination at the array of poets
that it has touched their minds and hearts,
Because that's when inspiration feels alive,
When it can see the power that it has diffused
into their -now- luminescent hearts,
A picture depicting a sky adorned with stars,
An earth adorned by poets that never sleep.

Today, I'm heartbroken because I know inspiration will never be 'mine'.*

It will continue to break hearts, then come back,
And I know that I will continue to accept its apologizes,
Even if they weren't uttered,
I will make one up inspired on spur of the moment,
Because without it I'm nothing but the worst poet alive,
In my body, in my population-of-one continent.

And when the days click and the words rhyme,
The world isn't always forgiving of the greatest poet alive in my population-of-one continent,
Because my poems are me,
And I know that I'm flawed,
I have bad hair days, my nose isn't pretty,
sometimes there are bags under my eyes, and I'm not always the nicest person,
Sometimes my appearance is disheveled,
Just like my poetry,
Then some days I spend the extra ten minutes in front of the mirror,
I care for the details,
And some days people actually like my words,
those are the good days.

And today, I am the worst poet alive,
Because I don't have hope,
Inspiration didn't leave me a note before it left,
It didn't give call me and said I'll be back in a few days,
So today I'm the worst poet alive in my book.

I've cleaned my mind though,
And threw away all the disposal pins
where I burst the bubbles of words that sound ridiculous,
I also folded away all the negative feedback
that my cerebral cinques have given me,
Hopefully inspiration might want to visit the greatest poet alive … tomorrow?
You can call it a rant. But it was actually an attempt at a Slam poem. I wrote it at a time when I wasn't inspired at all, I hadn't even written in months. So it meant something at the time.
Yue Wang Yitkbel Oct 2019

Men must slumber in the darkness
In order to be truly awaken
Men must be desperately lost
In order to look up at the endless stars

The young love to sing about death
While the old worship life like the sun
The young are hopeless on earth, dreaming of flight
The old fear to be parted from the land without a raging fight


Who wants to be from War and Peace
The Fly against the loft sky
But we are all just flies
Traceless, each life in a dream it lies
Always to be awakened, bringing nothing and taking nothing
Why must we seek truth in a dream?
If we will forget them when we finally open our eyes
With joy, with sorrow
We witness death
Just so we would strive to stay alive
But why are we alive?
To prepare us for what?


Is it just for that half asleep, half awake
Shadowy, faint, and veiled memory?
Is it possible that when we truly open our eyes one day
We would still feel all that we’ve felt in the dreams?
Yes, in my brief nightly drowsiness, I have felt
Despair and happiness
And existed so profoundly!

Slumber or Awake, Illusion or Truth
Reality or Dream
There never was any true death or an end
I was always
Alive Alive Alive


Life is the only route
Between nothingness and the endless
Our birth on earth, and our perishing to dirt
Are both equal ends for the existing

And fools will simply rejoice in the illusive brevity
While sages prepare for the everlasting dance
And fools will take comfort in the darkness obscuring his sins
While sages prepare for the brilliance of the yonder light  
By already shining and basking in this life


I want to be from War and Peace
The Bee of such trivial and insignificant life
For we are all just bees
Unnoticed, but must exist
Why were we ever born to fly,
When true height is beyond this life?
Just for the pollen and nectar, taken and given?
Till bees return to the impermanent or the forever?
We will regret their absence then, bitterly and barrenly
Witnessing loss, just to learn to cherish
The existing.
But we exist, for what?


Is it just for that half asleep, half awake
Shadowy, faint, and veiled memory?
Is it possible that when we truly open our eyes one day
We would still feel all that we’ve felt in the dreams?
Yes, in my brief nightly drowsiness, I have felt
Despair and happiness
And existed so profoundly!

Slumber or Awake, Illusion or Truth
Reality or Dream
There never was any true death or an end
I was always
Alive Alive Alive


Being alive
Is not just so we can die
That is completely meaningless
Being alive,
Is the only route
From nothingness to endlessness

Only having been once alive
Can you be resurrected
Only when you walk this road to the end
Will you find and continue the pave to the
Neverending Land
Alive (Resurrection)
By: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
Original in Chinese written on:
Sunday, October 20, 2019, 6:20 PM
Translated on: Wednesday, October 23, 2019
11:43 AM
Notes written: 2019/10/25
This was originally another stream of consciousness written in Chinese in a much more organized lyric form spontaneously. Parts of it were a sort of commentary and reaction to poems, songs, and other works I read from both young and old, where the young tend to write about death with a fearless and almost welcoming embrace, and the old refuses to "go gentle into that goodnight."

The rest of it, I wanted to use two very striking metaphors from Tolstoy's War and Peace, the fly and a bee. I set up them as foils of one another, though both to signify insignificance; one represents the isolation of an individual, while the other is of the obscurity of the mass.

Both questions why are we alive? Why are we here just to leave so immediately? Then, both a revelation and answer came to me suddenly.

The revelation being life is the inevitable road between the nothingness of being, and the endlessness of being.
So the answer is, as this road seems to be the only and continuous road, we must cross it to the end of the section we call life, in order to reach the rest we call the neverending.
I lie here paralytic
Inside this soul
Screaming for you 'til my throat is numb
I wanna break out I need a way out
I don't believe that it's gotta be this way
The worst is the waiting
In this womb I'm suffocating

Feel your presence filling up my lungs with oxygen
I take you in
I've died

Rebirthing now
I wanna live for love wanna live for you and me
Breathe for the first time now
I come alive somehow
Rebirthing now
I wanna live my life wanna give you everything
Breathe for the first time now
I come alive somehow
Right now [X2]

I lie here lifeless
In this cocoon
Shedding my skin cause
I'm ready to
I wanna break out
I found a way out
I don't believe that it's gotta be this way
The worst is the waiting
In this womb I'm suffocating

Feel your presence filling up my lungs with oxygen
I take you in
I've died

Rebirthing now
I wanna live for love wanna live for you and me
Breathe for the first time now
I come alive somehow
Rebirthing now
I Wanna live my life wanna give you everything
Breathe for the first time now
I come alive somehow
(I come alive somehow)

Tell me when I'm gonna live again
Tell me when I'm gonna breathe you in
Tell me when I'm gonna feel inside
Tell me when I'm gonna feel alive

Tell me when I'm gonna live again
Tell me when this fear will end
Tell me when I'm gonna feel inside
Tell me when I'll feel alive

Rebirthing now
I wanna live for love wanna live for you and me
Breathe for the first time now
I come alive somehow
Rebirthing now
I wanna live my life wanna give you everything
Breathe for the first time now
I come alive somehow
(I come alive somehow)

Right now
I come alive somehow
Right now
I come alive somehow
This is a song by the band Skillet.
It explains a lot with how I'm feeling.
AD Sifford Apr 2014
You took me by the neck
And slit it with a knife
You told me I was dead
But I am alive

You lied to me
You buried me

But now I've changed
No longer in your chains
I am free to fly
And I am alive

He carried me
He set me free

Now I see
I've opened up my eyes
To eternity
I am alive

You lied to me
You buried me
He carried me
He set me free

My Savior's words of truth
Are stronger than your lies
So just know I am done with you
Because now I am alive

All I got was pain from you
Shame that cut me like a knife
But I'm no longer chained to you
No, I am free to fly

Through God I have escaped from you
And now I am alive
I never will return to you
I know that I'm alive
By the blood of Jesus Christ
In He I am alive

You lied to me
And buried me

But I am alive

He carried me
He set me free

And I am alive

By the blood of Jesus Christ,

**I am alive
|Written April 9, 2011|
*from my Ignite collection, being poem #4. Please see the collection page itself. P.S. I made a mistake in the order when I originally posted this. "No More Games" was written the day before this one, so this should come after.

A statement of freedom against the enemy. God was teaching me at this time, largely through a series of devotional books called Tribe by Michael Ross, and mainly the third and final book I read, "A Warrior's Battles", that Christ HAS WON the victory over any and all sin and addiction and weakness and shame for every believer and you DON'T NEED to struggle anymore. Freedom comes through RESTing and BELIEVing that  HE HAS WON and that YOU HAVE VICTORY in Him.

I later expanded/added to Alive when making a song out of it. That form of it is incomplete.

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poems, but I ask that you show courtesy. Please be honest about the authorship by attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
Mathieu Jan 2021
To the trees,
and the seeds
Please believe
The crease in
My knees
Are from pleading
Every which season
You’ll come alive

You’ll come alive

The weak,
The meek,
The speech that
Shakes the roots
We speak
Comes alive

You’ll come alive

Like oxygen,
So sweet
In the air
That we breathe
The droplets
We drink
Come alive

You’ll come alive

The soil
And soot
I kneel
No fear
I’m here for
You to appear
And come alive

You’ll come alive

The soul
It shouts
It loves
And doubts
Your life means
Each season
You are alive

You’ll come alive
Life is an exhilarating ride, full of trauma and triumph, and there is nothing more I want tonight than for each person to experience a single moment of total synchronisation with what it feels to exist. To come alive.

While it won’t solve the worlds problems, it makes us feel like anything is possible, and a little more courageous to partake in the wonder that is you.

Remember, today you matter.

Today you get to take a new chance, open a new opportunity and embrace whatever you’re going through, the good or challenging with a sense of pride that you are magnificent.
I have cried.
I have cried.

Just like you.
Just like you.

For how long?
For how long?

Must I bleed, when I know your watching.

I know there's something wrong.

Your concrete heart isn't beating.
And you've tried to.
Make it come alive.
For me.
But we both know will not work.

The shadows.
Red lights.
Now your here to rescue me.


Oh I'm not alive.
I'm losing life.

You can't apologize for what I know.

Oh I'm not alive.
I'm not alive
I can not apologize.

So silent.
The violence.
Inside my head.
So loud and clear.

You're screaming.
You're screaming.

Covered up with a smile I've learned to fear.

No sunshine.
And dark skies.
Is this all we get for living here?

Come fire.
Come fire.

Let it burn and love come racing through!

Oh I'm not alive.
I'm not alive.
You can not apologize, for what I know.

I'm not alive.
I'm not alive.

I cannot apologize, no...

I've learned to lose.
I've learned to win.
You turned my face with the wind.
This is what I get for what I lose to you.

I will move fast.
I will move slow.
Take me where I have to go.

Oh I'm not alive.
I'm not alive.
I cannot apologize, no.
Jaide Lynne Apr 2014
Lately I have been thinking about reasons to live, not because I am suicidal or I am ready to die, at least not now. I have been thinking about reasons to live because I have started to take the path of least resistance. I am no longer living I am merely alive, I wake up, survive, wake up, survive, wake up, survive. I wake up and I survive, and that’s it. So I made a list, of reason to stay alive.

1. Laying in the grass in the middle of summer

2. Dancing in the rain

3. Learning stupid, pointless skills

4. You never know, My Chemical Romance could come back

5. Going for long walks alone

6. Concerts

7. Mosh pits

8. Pulling all nighters that you regret the next day

9. Laying in the grass watching the clouds

10. Driving aimlessly in the country

11. Road trips

12. Spending time with your best friend

13.Sleeping until noon

14. There is someone, even if it is one person, who cares

13, wait 14, no 15, that’s right

15, you are probably better at counting than I am...

Finally, you should stay alive just for the reason of living life to the fullest. Stay living to prove those who said you can’t wrong, stay alive to see every state every country, stay alive to prove to yourself that you are stronger than the **** that is happening around you, stay alive if not for your self stay alive for you family your friends, hell, stay alive for your dog because life is meant for living...
This is still in progress, and I might end up taking it down and re-writing it.
Donna Barron Jul 2013
I take my first breath
I am alive
I am still breathing
I am still living
I am alive
Through my veins blood is flowing
My heart still beating
I am alive
My eyes wide open
My life begins to happen
I am alive
My senses growing
My mind ever knowing
I am alive
My body still yearning
My soul on fire forever burning
I am alive
I can touch you
Reach out and touch me
I am alive
You can hold me
I can feel the warmth of your body
I am alive
My grey eyes are gone
The way I was is done
Because I am Alive.
Mackenzie Leigh Oct 2011
It was September when you closed your eyes.

The trees were verdant and fat,
Their boughs abuzz with the fluttering of birds;
The warmth of pre-autumnal breezes, pale and whispering:
“Alive, alive,” as the breath in your lungs.

I rarely contemplated your absence
Not for lack of trying, I assure you
It’s just hard to miss something you never really had
Not altogether impossible, but difficult, nonetheless

I could not miss you as my tongue
Could miss the taste of sugar sweet;
As my hand
Could miss the hand of a lover fair;
As my mind
Could miss the dulcet caress of poetry
Poignant and soft;
But I could miss you still, blood of my blood
As your presence should grace my thoughts faintly
Like some spectral invader---
A sometimes patriarch beguiled.

I dreamed of you the day mother informed me
Your eyes had finally opened.

The trees had worn thin by the time of my visitation
I could see them rapping between your blinds,
Scratching the glass in a hallowed colloquial,
The language of arboreal appendages fading:
“Alive, alive,” but just barely.

It was October.

Your days and dreams and dalliances
Compartmentalized into a series of sterile routines:
The steady drip of morphine
Into your veins;
The turning of your body,
In bed,
At the passing of each half day;
The fluids vacuumed,
From the hole in your throat,
At a quarter till every hour.

Your body became a clock, defected
Feebly measured in the perfunctory gasp
Of your heart’s meticulous monitor

It was just a week shy of November, and you were waning.

Haunted by those seventy-one years,
Long-lived, painfully slow,
Taunting you from the fraying end,
Of an agonizingly short rope---
Seventy-one years, and all it took
For the months to drop, skittering away,
Was the blink of a bloodshot eye.

It was October, but it should have been September.

That ruddy, porous grin,
The bullfrog blues of your grandfather’s smile,
Now made far and few between
By your unabashed lassitude,
By your hesitance to meet the gaze of another,
By your impatience at the sound of voices,
Talking about you like you weren't there.

You were a big guy, I noticed
I never realized how much so until I saw you
Laid up and sprawled unnaturally upon a hospital bed
Little more than an invalid,
Unable to lift a finger, even to catch
The choking, viscous saliva that would dribble,
Infantile and unbidden down your chin;
Unable to speak.

The catatonia fooled you, unbeknownst,
It pried the words from your swollen mouth
With skeletal, sable fingers,
Leaving penitent ghosts in their wake
So that your lips were moving, muttering,
Pressed with the phantom vocalizations
Of what half-formed apologies needled their way into your mind;
Of what no sounds produced
You even tried to tell me you loved me---
Though the affections never quite came to fruition,
I felt your taciturn ruminations, regardless.

I suppose that was a start.
You were near an end.
But it was a start, nevertheless.

Inhabiting the mere space of a windowpane
Inside of yourself as you were,
Your eyes remained outgoing:
At times they contained boredom,
At others longing or contempt,
And within those murky depths, I swear I recognized
The unshakeable, abject face of terror.

So much change for so little provocation:
The leaves outside, they rustled;
Cars continued their coming and going on distant highways;
The soothing azure of the day dampened,
Corroded by the cold, unrelenting hand of a changing season;
Gradually, the sun rose and fell.

It rose and fell:
(Your chest) rose and fell.
(Your face) rose and fell.
(Our hearts) rose and fell.
It always stayed the same.

And in your vacant, unwavering gaze,
Always something different:
The deathly vestige of repentance,
Folded between the window’s shade;
The laughing, lilting silhouette,
Of days forever passing;
And you, unmoving,
In that hospital bed,
A sharp juxtaposition to your caretakers
And their mock celebration:
“Alive, alive!”

But those saintly visitations of shadow and climate
Rapping against the window,
Waltzing across the far wall of your antiseptic prison,
They bespoke celebrations of their own,
Callous facts you knew all too well:

“It’s October, Tom. Autumn is here.
And you shouldn’t be.”
slr Jun 2018
it’s no secret people need the sun to live
however, that’s not the only type of living i mean

i mean the sun is a small part of an even greater savior
the beach is the savior who is keeping me alive

i mean the beach has kept a smile on my face
when nothing else could put it there

it is keeping my heart beating and my blood flowing
it is keeping oxygen flowing through my body

the sun keeps me alive
because it warms my body
reminding me i’m still alive

the sand keeps me alive
because it clings to my skin
reminding i can still feel

the water keeps me alive
because the cold shocks my body
waking it up

the waves keep me alive
because the waves lull me to sleep
giving my body the rest it craves

the sunburn keeps me alive
because of the pain
forcing me to hold on for when it leaves

the beach keeps me alive
because through every little annoyance
it only shows me that i can still feel everything

it shows me i have so much to live for
because despite what i believe i can still feel

-let the beach keep you alive
This was part of a speech I wrote but felt the need to turn into a poem. I struggle with finding happiness in things and the beach is the one place where a smile doesn't hide form me. I don't know where I would be without the beach. Somedays I wonder if I would be alive.
To the Master, glory!
To the Buckler, glory!
To the Sovereign, glory!
Oh, how grateful to be alive!

The hell shelling like atomic bomb  
But lose not sight of the rainbow
Off the curve of hell is the heaven
Oh, how grateful to be alive!

The night’ll not endure
No matter the hell fiend
Heaven‘ll outpace its space
Oh, how grateful to be alive!

To the Almighty God, glory
To the Miracle Connoisseur, glory
To the Alpha and Omega, glory
Oh, how grateful to be alive!

The sun coming to delete the night
Conquer the brute dark by faith
And see the stars in blooming petals
Oh, how grateful to be alive!

The moon is coming this ogre night
This ambushing danger‘ll break
To the sunrise of glory
Oh, how grateful to be alive!

Turn not your back
On the forward march to glory
Shoot hope infinite to the dim horizon
Oh, how grateful to be alive!

To the King, glory!
To the Love, glory!
To the Glory, glory!
Oh, how grateful to be alive!
Mr E Mar 2013
A man once said the world is dead
But what does it mean to be alive?
To act, to think, to do, but isn't that the life of what a machine must do?
What does it mean to be alive?
To feel the wind across your face, the burning sun beating down as we run this race,this puzzling thing we call life
But What does it mean to be alive?
A pain of guilt, the shame of doubt? The things which make us who we are?
What on earth does it really mean, to truly be alive?
Be yourself is what they preach, individuality at its peak
But is it unique to be yourself, if everyone else does the same?
Is their truly any way to be alive in this game?
A man once said the world is dead
And maybe he was right
That every person "lives" their lives in a carcass and cocoon
Never fully grasping the outside world, where true life could but loom
What does it mean to be alive?
To be free from all scorn and ridicule?
Without a doubt the world will accept you, no matter, who you are
I cannot say if we are alive but its a place we all but dread
In this life we are a walking dead, pretending we are
Blake Sep 2018
And I'll try to delay what you make of my life
But I don't want your way,
I want mine

I’m lying, I’m so very far from fine

I don’t believe, in talking just to breathe

I’m here to give you words as tools that can destroy my heart

He thinks that faith might be dead
Nothing kills a man faster than his own head

*** nobody knows he’s alive

I want to crack the door so I can just fall out

I begin to understand why god died

And I want everyone to know that I am half a soul divided

Don’t be afraid. We’re going home.

We had to steal him from his fate so he could see another day

Am I alive and well or am I dreaming dead?

Where all your blood is washed away and all you did will be undone

We pick songs to sing remind us of things that nobody cares about and honestly we’re probably more suicidal than ever now

If we wake up every morning and decide what we believe we can take apart our very heart and the light will set us free

Please don’t be afraid of what your soul is really thinking

It’s time you pick your battle, and I promise you this is mine.

I know what you think in the morning when the sun shines on the ground

But there’s hope out the window, so that’s where we’ll go, let’s go outside and all join hands but until then you’ll never understand

Simply suggest my chest in this confused music it’s obviously best for them to turn their guns to a fist.

I’m taking over my body back in control no more shorty

I fought it a lot and it seems a lot like flesh is all I got not anymore

You should take my life, you should take my soul

You are surrounding all my surroundings

Fight it. Take the pain ignite it tie a noose around your mind loose enough to breathe fine and tie it to a tree tell it “you belong to me this ain’t a noose this is a leash and I have news for you, you must obey me”

It ain’t the speakers that bump hearts, it’s our hearts that make the beat.

I’m pleading please oh please, on my knees repeatedly asking why it’s got to be like this, is this living free?

Some see a pen I see a harpoon.

I’ll stay awake, *** the dark’s not taking prisoners tonight

I don’t hear those voices calling, I must’ve kicked them out

Why won’t you let me go? Do I threaten all your plans I’m insignificant

I’m afraid to tell you who I adore, won’t tell you who I’m singing towards

I know it’s dire my time today

Somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence

Sometimes quiet is violent
I find it hard to hide it my pride is no longer inside it’s on my sleeve my skin will scream

There’s no hiding for me I’m forced to deal with what I feel there is no distraction to mask what is real

This time there’s no sound to hide behind

I find over the course of our human existence one thing consists of consistence and it’s that we’re all battling fear oh dear I don’t know if we know why we’re here oh my too deep please stop thinking

Peace will win and fear will lose

There’s faith and there’s sleep we need to pick one please because faith is to be awake and to be awake is for us to think and for us to think is to be alive and I will try with every rhyme to come across like I am dying to let you know you need to try to think.

I don’t wanna be heard, I wanna be listened to.

I scream you scream we all scream *** we’re terrified of what’s around the corner.

My brain has given up, white flags are hoisted

The stomach in my brain throws up onto the page

I don’t understand why everything I adore takes a different form when I squint my eyes have you ever done that when you squint your eyes and your eyelashes make it look a little bit right and then when just enough light comes from just the right side and you find you’re not who you’re supposed to be?
This is not what you’re supposed to see, please, remember me I am supposed to be king of kingdom, swinging on a swing, something happened in my imagination the situations becoming dire, my treehouse is on fire, and for some reason I smell gas on my hands. This is not what I had planned.

We’ll be on fire

We have romantic fantasies about what dying truly is

We all know somebody who knows somebody who’s doing great, I know some people who know people who are flying straight, but I’ll kindly enter into rooms of depression, while ceiling fans and idle hands will take my life again.

But I would rather sing a song, for the eyes to sing along

I’m holding onto what I know and what I know I must let go

Redemption’s not that far and darkness is going down.

Nobody thinks what I think, nobody dreams when they blink, think things on the brink of blasphemy I’m my own shrink think things are after me, my catastrophe.

Are you searching for purpose? Then write something and it might be worthless, paint something yeah it might be wordless pointless curses nonsense verses you’ll see purpose start to surface, no one else is dealing with your demons meaning maybe defeating them could be the beginning of your meaning friend.

They will play a game and say they know what you’re doing through and I tried to come up with an artistic way to say they don’t know you and neither do I

I hear a second voice behind your tongue somehow

They will not take you down they will not cast you out

Dear friends here we are again pretending to understand how you think your world is ending sendin signals and red flags in waves it’s hard to tell the difference between blood and water these days
I pray that one day you see
The only difference between life and dying
Is one is trying that’s all we’re gonna do so try to love me and I’ll try to save you

Won’t you stay alive I’ll take you on a ride, I will make you believe you are lovely

Your redemption won’t grow stale, we are now just setting sail, on the seas of what we fear, treason now is growing near to me, I’m coming clean, god hit me straight on.

I know, where you stand, silent in the trees
And that’s where I am

Why won’t you speak, where I happen to Be? Silent in the trees standing cowardly
I can feel your breath, I can feel my death.
I want to know you, I want to see, I want to say, hello

I don’t believe my ears and I’m scared of my own head.

Clearly I am dying, dearly I am writing

I’m lying cause I say I am fine

I’m so sorry but I do believe that all my bridges I have burned and I’ve earned a policy of no return

Today, day, I want to go away, way

I put my sock on my feet, just so that my soul would fall through my toes, And I walk through my door, just so I don’t fall through the floor.

So bold and fearless in the risks we take, laugh in the face of gravity as it’s laws we’d break, on trampolines so high, we reach for the sky, but I do not look up anymore and I don’t know why.

I take my face off at the door because I don’t know who they will take me for

I’m the son of all I’ve done

When we’re done we’ll all have made something new under the sun

“Where’s your home? Where are you going and why are you here?”

I will tell you what I can, but your mind will take a stand, I sing of a greater love, let me know when you’ve had enough.

When your father turns to stone will you take care of me?
I will make you queen of everything you see, I’ll put you on the map, I’ll cure you of disease.
Let’s say we up and left this town and turned our future upside down, we’ll make pretend that you and me, lived ever after happily.

Since we know that dreams are dead, and life turns plans up on their head, I will plan to be a *** so I just might become someone.

Taking my only, friend I know. He leaves a lot. His name is Hope.

I’m never what I like, I’m double sided

*** I’m twisted up, I’m twisted up, inside my mind

When the sun is climbing window sills, and the silver lining rides the hills, I will be safe, for one whole day, until the sun makes the hills it’s grave.

By the time the nights wears off, the dust is down, and shadows burn, I will rise and stand my ground, waiting for, the nights return.

I do not know why I would go in front of you na shied my soul, *** you’re the only one who knows it

I don’t know why I think I could lie, *** there’s a screen on my chest

I’m standing in front of you I’m trying to be so cool, everything together trying to be so cool.

I can’t see past my own nose I’m seeing everything in slow-mo look out below crashing down to the ground

A train from the sky locomotive my motives are insane
My flows not great okay, I conversation with people who know if I flow on a song I’ll get no radio play.
While you’re doing fine, there’s some people and I, who have a really tough time getting through this life so excuse us while we sing to the sky.

We’re broken people

I can’t take them on my own, my own, pa, I’m not the one you know, you know

Don’t wanna give you all my demons, you’ll have to watch me struggle, from several rooms away. But tonight, I need you to stay.

I am up against the wall, the wall, pa, I hear them coming down, the hall.

I want to drive away in the night, headlights call my name.
I’ll never be, be what you see inside, you say I’m not alone but I am petrified.

Is close the closest star? You just feel twice as far.

I’m so afraid, of what you have to say, cause I am quiet now, and silence gives you space

And the wrists of my mind had the bleeding lines that remind me of all the times I have committed

What kids are doing they’re killing themselves, they feel they have no control of their prisoner cells, and if you’re one of them then you’re one of me

Now the night is coming to an end

The sun will rise and we will try again

Stay alive, stay alive, for me.
You will die, but now your life is free take pride in what is sure to die.

I will fear the night again.

I hope I’m not my only friend.

There’s an infestation in my minds imagination

This not rap this is not hip hop, just another attempt to make the voices stop

This doesn’t mean I lost my dream it’s just right now I got a really crazy mind to clean.

Can you save my heavydirtysoul, for me?

If I didn’t know better I’d guess you’re all already dead

You’ve got one time to figure it out, one time to twist and one time to shout, one time to think and I say we start now

Death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit

I wish I found some better sounds no ones ever heard, I wish I had a better voice to sing some better words, I wish I found some chords in an order that is new, I wish I didn’t have to rhyme every time I sang

Now I’m insecure, and I care what people think.

Sometimes a certain smell will take me back to when I was young, how come I’m never able to identify where it’s coming from?

It would remind us of when nothing really mattered out of student loans and treehouse homes we all would take the ladder.

We used to play pretend give eachother different names

Used to dream of outer space but now they’re laughing at our face saying wake up you need to make money

I wanna stay in the sun where I find, I know it’s hard sometimes

I think about the end just way too much, but it’s fun to fantasize

I won’t fall in love with falling

I’d die for you that’s easy to say we have a list of people that we would take a bullet for them a bullet for you

Metaphorically I’m the man but literally I don’t know what I’d do, that’s harder to do even harder to say when you know it’s not true and it’s harder to write when you know that tonight there were people back home that tried talking to you

All these questions they’re for real like who would you live for who would you die for and would you ever ****?

I’ve been thinking too much, help me

I’m fairly local, ive been around, ive seen the streets you’re walking down

I’m evil to the core, what I shouldn’t do I will, they say I’m emotional, what I wanna save I’ll ****. Is that who I truly am? I truly don’t have a chance. Tomorrow I keep a beat. And repeat yesterday’s dance

I’m not evil to the core, what I shouldn’t do I will fight. I know I’m emotional, what I wanna save I will try. I know who I truly am. I truly do have a chance. Tomorrow I’ll switch the beat, to avoid yesterday’s dance

It’s the few the proud and the emotional

The world around us is burning but we’re so cold

Our minds change on what we think is good, I wasn’t raised in the hood, but I know a thing or two about pain, and darkness, if wasn’t for the music I don’t know how I would’ve fought this.

I’m in constant confrontation with what I want and what is poppin in the industry it seems to me that singles on the radio are currency my creativities only free when I’m playing shows.

Who would you live and die for on that list but the problem is there’s another list that exists and none really wants to think about this forget sanity, forget salary, forget vanity my morality, if you get in between someone I love and me, you’re gonna feel the heat of my calvary

He cranked out those dismal chords, and his four walls declared him insane.

I found my way right time wrong place

I know my souls freezing hells hot for good reason

But I’m not good with directions and I hide behind my mouth, I’m a pro at imperfections and I’m best friends with my doubt.
Now that minds out and now I hear clear and loud I’m thinking wow I probably should’ve stayed inside my house

I don’t know if this song is a surrender or a revel. I don’t know if this one is about me or the devil.

Help me out, my friends and I we got a lotta problems

Wanted to be a better brother better son wanted to be a better advisory to the evil I have done I have none to show to the one I love

Polarize is taking your disguises sepersting then splitting them up from wrong and right, is deciding when to die and deciding when to fight

I don’t know where you are, you’ll have to come and find me

We have all learned to **** our dreams

I need to know that when I fail you’ll still be here. *** if you stick around I’ll sing you pretty sounds and well make money selling your hair

I don’t care what’s in your hair I just wanna know what’s on your mind.
I used to say I wanna die before I’m old but because if you I might think twice.

What if my dream does not happen. Would I just change what I’ve told my friend. Don’t want to know who I would be. When I wake from a dreamers sleep

Scared of my own image. Scared of my own immaturity

Fear might be the death of me. Fear leads to anxiety. Don’t know what’s inside of me.

Even when I doubt you, I’m no good without you.

Temperature is dropping, I’m not sure if I can see this ever stopping. Shaking hands with the dark parts of my thought no, you ar wall that I’ve got no.

I want the markings made on my skin, to mean something to me again.

Hope you haven’t left without me, please

Who I am today is worse than other times. You don’t know what I’ve done.

Why I’m in denial that they tried the suicidal session. Please use discretion when you’re messing with the message man, these lyrics aren’t for everyone only few understand.

Hope you’re dead *** how could you sleep at a time like this

I’m the kinda guy who takes every moment he knows he confided in
Music to use for others to use it

Life is up here but you comment below And the comments below will become
Common motivation to promote
Your shows next episode
So your brain know to keep going
Even though hope
Is far from this moment but you and I know it gets better when mornin finally reads it’s head, together we’re losers remember the future remember the mornin is when night is dead.

My people singing

Be the one to take my soul and make it undone

Be the one to take me home and show me the sun

Where we’re from, there’s no sun, our hometowns in the dark
Where we’re from, we’re no one, our hometowns in the dark.

We don’t know, how to put back the power in our soul

We don’t know, where to find, what once was in our bones.

I look outside and see a whole world better off without me in it trying to transform it.

Listen I know, this ones a contradiction because of how happy it sounds. But the lyrics are so down.
It’s ok though, because it represents Wait better yet it is, who I feel I am right now.

I’m a goner, somebody catch my breath

I wanna be known, by you.

Though I’m weak, and beaten down. I’ll slip away, into this sound.
The ghost of you is close to me.
I’m inside out, you’re underneath.

I’ve got two faces, blurry’s the one I’m not

I need your help to take him out

Don’t let me be gone.

I can’t believe how much I hate.
Pressures of a new place roll my way.

Spirits in my room, friend or foe?
Felt it in my youth feel it when I’m old

I’ll be right there, but you’ll have to grab my throat and life me in the air. If you need anyone
I’ll stop my plans, but you’ll have to tie me down and then break both my hands.

You can learn to levitate with just a little help

Cowards only come through when the hours late and everyone’s asleep mind you

My heart is with you hiding but my minds not made

No we are not just graffiti on a passing train I got back what I once bought back in that slot I won’t need to replace

Sever all I thought I could depend on my weekends on the freezing ground that I’m sleeping on please keep me from please keep me down from the ledges

At least they all know all they hear comes from a place.

When everyone, you thought you know, deserts your fight, I’ll go with you
You’re facing down, a dark hall, I’ll grab my light and go with you

Surrounded and  up against a wall, I’ll shred em all. And go with you
When choices end, you must defend, I’ll grab a bat, and go with you

Stay with me, no you don’t need to run, stay with me, my blood.

They’re callin for your head and they’re callin for your name, I’ll bomb down on em I’m comin through

Just keep it outside

If you find yourself, in a lions den, I’ll jump right in, and pull my pin.

East is up, I’m fearless when I hear this on the low
Easy is up, I’m careless when I wear my rebel clothes

They will know that, Dema don’t control us

They wanna make you forget

Save your razor blades now, not yet

I’m flying from a fire, from Nico and the Niners.

What I say when I wanna be enough what a beautiful day for making a break for it, we’ll find a way to pay for it, maybe from all the money we made razor blade stores, rent a race horse, and force a sponsor, and start a concert a complete diversion, start a mob and you can be quite certain we’ll win but not everyone will get out.

Can’t stop thinking about if and when I die for now I see that if and when are trike different cries for If is purely panic and when is solemn sorrow and one invade today while the other spies tomorrow

If I keep moving they won’t know I’ll morph to someone else

I’m just a ghost

Defence mechanism mode

What are we here for if not to run straight through all our tormentors

Anybody listening?

This beat is a chemical

Lovin what I’m tasting
Venom on my tongue
Dependant at times
Poisonous vibrations

I’m running for my life

Hide you in my coat pocket

Felt I was invincible you wrapped around my head now different lives I lead my body lives on lead the last two lines may read incorrect until said

I despise you sometimes I love to hate the fight and you in much life is like sippin on straight chlorine

Grows while I decay

Can you build my house with pieces I’m just a chemical

My interior world needs to sanitize
I’ve got to step through or I’ll dissipate
I’ll record my step through for my basement tapes

Nice to my kind will be on my side

And you know you’re a terrible sight but you’ll Be just fine

Your exterior world can step off instead
It might take some friends and a warmer shirt but you don’t get thick skin without getting burnt

No I don’t know which way I’m going
But I can hear my way around

I never look for conflict for the thrill

For you I would get beat to smithereens

And my problem? We glorify those even more when they

My opinion our culture could treat a loss like it’s a win and right before we turn on them we give them the highest of praise and hang their banner from the ceiling communicating further ingravjng and earlier grace is an optional way. No.

What’s my problem don’t get it twisted it’s with the people we praise who may have assisted

I could go out with a band they would know my name they would host and post a celebration . My opinion will not be lenient

We don’t get enough love well they get a fraction they say how could he go if he’s got everything I’ll mourn for a kid but won’t cry for a king.

Neon gravestones try to call for my bones

Promise me this. If I lose to myself you won’t mourn a day and you’ll move on to someone else

But they won’t get them

Don’t get me wrong the rise in awareness is beating a stigma that no longer scares us but for sake of discussion in spirit of fairness could we give this some room for a new point of view and could it be true that some could be tempted to use this mistake as a form of aggression a form of succession a form of a weapon thinking I’ll teach them well in refusing the lesson it won’t resonate in our minds I’m not disrespecting what was left behind just pleading that it does not get glorified maybe we swap out what’s it is that we hold so high. Find your grandparents or someone of age. Pay some respects for the other that they paved to life they were dedicated now that should be celebrated.

I could take the high road but I know that I’m going low

I’m a bandito

This is the sound we make when in between two places where we used to bleed and where our blood needs to be

In city I feel my spirit is contained like neon inside the glass they form my brain but I recently discovered it’s a heartless fire like nicknames they give themselves to uninspire begin with bullet now add fire to the proof but I’m still not sure if fears a rival or close relative to truth either way it helps to hear these words bounce off of you the softest school could be enough for me to make it through

I created this world to feel some control destroy it if I want so I sing Sahlo Folina

I can feel pressure start to posses my mind so I’ll take this beat I should delete to exercise

No I move slow I wanna stop time I’ll sit here til I find the problem

This clique means so much to this dude it could make him afraid of his music and be scared to death he could lose it

You were one of those classic ones
Traveling around this sun

I wish she knew you

You were here when I write this but the masters and mixes will take to long to finish to show you I’m sorry I did not visit did not know how to take it when your eyes did not know me like I know you

Then the day that it happened I recorded this last bit I look forward to having a lunch with you again

I’m tired of tending to this fire

Embers barely showing proof of life in the shadows dancing on my plans

They know that it’s  almost over

The burning is so low it’s concerning *** they know that when it goes out it’s a glorious gone
It’s only time before they show me why no one ever comes back with details from beyond

In time I will leave the city for now I will stay alive

Last year I needed change of pace
Couldn’t take the pace of change
Moving hastily
But this year
Though I’m far from home
In trench inches not alone
These faces facing me
They know what I mean.
I made this more for me than anyone else. It’s a really fricken long piece. They saved me tho so I do not care. K bye.
Vicki Acquah Nov 2015
A poem by

Vicki Acquah

(how do I know)

I knew I was alive

Not from the pain

Of giving birth

Not from the excruciating

Re-occurring tooth ache

Sometimes its things like this-

That makes you call on death

I knew I was alive -

Tho I did not feel alive-

I felt no pulse

Like when I

Was kidnapped
Nor the day she stabbed

And killed my brother-

Not when they sentenced my

Black male child

For trying to be a hero.-


I knew I was alive

because of

Little insignificant things-

Little things -that opened my eyes

Such as

Robotic moves - A glimpse of

The mundane these things

Made me aware-of

Where the illusions end

And real life begins

More times than not

The heavy loads are

Too painful to digest-

So I focus

On the insignificant

Like when the man pushed

His glasses upon his nose.

But not when the weather

Was below zero- and cold

I knew one day the

Tragedies would cease

And that feeling of

Living would increase

That one day in spite of

All these pitfalls

And stumbling blocks

I finally realize

That I am alive

When I saw a man push

His glasses upon his nose.

I knew I was alive when

I saw the woman eating

Cheese-less Cheetos

One day life flashed

A warning button

Alerting me that

This life is real

Yet there were no rules attached

Life is complicated without rules

And even with rules

Life is still an unfair game

A complicated game of chance.

I made two babies

Laughed as much as I could

Without appearing insane

Sat through a few movies

Read only what and when

I wanted- only

When I wanted.

I was busy writing

A bunch of poems

I wanted to dance every day

The only sacrifice I made

Was sometimes I wouldn't let myself

I wanted to leave right

After the dancing stopped

Still knew I was a

Living being when

I saw how I stayed on

The minds of the babies..

Babies never forget me.

The child ran toward me .

He had on training pants

He could not have

Been any more than

Three -or a bit more -

No more than four.

He ran to me as

I had been gone for so long

But he was gleefully greeting

Me - how could he remember me.?

He was only one year old

When I left town.

The other kid came over to help me

But he charged me two dollars

I said" I thought you were

Helping me from your heart"

"I am". :..He Said

"but I still need two-dollars“

That was real.

The only thing acting up on my

Computer is the software

That keeps my “puter”

From acting up.

I knew when I saw him

The man - pushing his glasses

Up on his nose. It was then

That I knew that

I was still alive ..

This must be my test.

A child ask for two dollars

To help me.. from his heart

My maintenance software

Opens to error messages-

Man pushes glasses up

On his nose-incidentally-

It was at these crucial points

I now know my life

Is not an illusion-

But that is how -

Somehow -

That is how -

I know I am alive -

How bout you ?

Copyright ©2015
Vicki Acquah
jeffrey conyers Sep 2019
Some forget that special gift.
But mine will live forever.

Keep this love alive.
Keep this love alive
Keep this love alive.
Long after I have died.

I said.
Keep this love alive.
Keep this love alive.
Keep this love alive.
Long after I have died.

Just like a good memory.
That just won't fade.
You will remember my life in many kinds of way.

Each time you pray.
You will remember me.
Cause we had more good days than bad.

So keep this love alive.
Keep this love alive.
Keep this love alive.
Long after I have died.

Even if it dim.
It will light back up.
All because we both were truly in love.
I am feeling alive, alive and alive
like an living person today
Wondering why I am alive?
Cause I am human beings
To show and tell peoples if I really

I am alive
But have to remember that life is
Our life is short because of Adam and Eve.

I am alive
God left us his rules
And we disobey his rules
We have to stop the evilness and
Wickedness so everybody can be
Alive forever.

             By K-mari ©2016
Nomad May 2014
The Hills Are Alive!
Alive I say indeed!
They aren't biased, or judgmental,
or are they filled with greed!

The hills are alive, enjoying each day as they come,
they don't mind the feet that tread on them,
it doesn't make it worrisome!

The hills are alive,
can you hear their sweet melody?
Well, sad thing is, I bet you can't,
if you're only stuck on the Telly.

Zut alors, what sad bunch we've become,
when we need someone to tell us,
(us!) that we don't have to be dumb.

Of course we don't,
none of us do,
but what do they say then,
when they happen on something new?

Gone are the days,
where vigor and work was required,
now we're only used to,
being beckoned or be sired!

The hills are alive,
and they weep,
weep I say!

As they watch the playful children that once were,
now inside they stay.
It's a shame,
a shame,
when the hills must really cry,
when all they're good for now,
is a peaceful place to die.

Let it be no more,
it's time to change,
and venture out through (indeed!) the door!

The Hills are alive!
Can you not hear their call!?
Or are you tuned out to the music,
the sweet music of it all?

Let it not be so,
my dear, dear friends of mine,
go out, breath in and out!
Enjoy the blessed sunshine.

For the Hills are still alive,
well and waiting patiently,
for the one day,
or more,
to gather children playfully.

The Hills are alive,
so why aren't you?
Crystal June Jun 2016
I decided to breathe today,
To fill my lungs with that invisible, life-giving substance
That I've never really known before.

But now I do, I know it well,
For it has caused my lungs to swell,
And, well,
It got me feeling pretty compelled
To write this down so I could tell
Of the swell of my lungs
That I just felt.

And what's fascinating is that I wasn't consuming air,
I was breathing in life for the very first time.
Inhale truth, exhale death.

Awake. Awake. Awake.

Oh, I want to be more than a pile of bones and air,
Floating away into the atmosphere.

I need to be more than a heart and a face,
Let boundless life take their place.

Let my head be filled up to the brim
With that which my lungs have let in --
Let my path of life truly begin.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

No more drifting up into the sky.

And now the truth will weigh me down,
Keep my soul beneath the clouds.

**** bliss,
I'd rather be aware and alive
Than ignorant and dormant.
We were put here for more.

I want to be more than this.

Awake. Awake. Awake.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
Awake. Awake. Awake.
**Alive for all my life.
xxc Nov 2014
I love you because I'm alive,
I am alive because I love you.
Every morning I wake up next to you,
I'm alive.
Through the day as I wait for you,
I'm alive.
When I lie next to you,
I'm alive.
And I live every moment.
I feel every minute.
And i'm alive.
Because you are with me.
Michael P Todd Sep 2010
A deep breath—I fill my lungs and close the airway. Submerge my face in a pillow and resolve myself to wait until my lungs burn—I await the pain. My senses screaming, my lungs driving me to let them have the oxygen they so desire—I decline. Funny how I chose that which offers peace to the weary, an item that invites comfort to rob myself of that most archaic means of surviving. I find it interesting how calm I feel while denying myself that which I know I cannot live without. Isn’t it odd how we only become aware of the subtle currents of air that tickle our skin, raising chill bumps where it finds us bare when we deny ourselves its luxury? Luxury. That’s an interesting way to phrase it really—Breathing as a luxury. A gift of power, smug in our abuse and neglect we fail to see what we loose when we breathe. Lying here refusing to give myself life—for that’s what air is really, and breathing is living. I laugh. Oh yes, I find it funny. I catch myself readying to breathe again and I still that notion. Shove it down; subdue it until it is nothing but a stinging memory in my chest. It takes a lot of strength to deny yourself to breathe. But somehow that only drives me to test that strength.
I wonder if I will forget how? Could the muscle memory that pilots such a necessary involuntary act be forgotten? No, of course not. But perhaps the feeling of fresh air full of life could be. Could it? Perhaps not. For even as these words find themselves onto this page I find myself remembering what it feels like to expand my lungs, for the blood to cool as it gathers its fill with oxygen as it travels on its wending cyclical way. I laugh again. The burn begins to spread and I feel my muscles atrophy. Yet they tighten and tense as if under assault, screaming at the atrocity wrought upon them. Though still I refuse to breathe.
I roll away from the pillow, open my face to the still air and feel it tickle as it tries to find a weakness. Denying my lungs for so long I begin to feel my skin breathing. Absorbing oxygen as cellular mitosis continues in spite of my flirtatious dance. Maybe I am just dreaming. I feel the fire subside. As if my body accepts its doom. “No breath for you,” I say. “No easy outs.” And resolve continues.
Amazing how long a person can go without breathing, pushing ever closer to that most primal fear—that of not being able to breathe. But I can. I feel my chest involuntarily expand, demanding the very thing I strenuously withhold. I know by that alone that I can breathe, I can live. But still not once do I begin to inhale the sweetness that I need. I want it now, but the primal is so enticing. After all, it is when we fear that we truly know what it is to live. That’s when we feel life. As if it were a tangible being that we’ve strapped to ourselves so that it won’t escape. I’ve set mine free. I’ve let go. Maybe it will return to me. Maybe it will leave me in my vain attempts to deny myself to continue fickly on to another. But which do it want--Perhaps neither, perhaps something more. Beyond breathing, beyond mere muscle memory, beyond what I cling to. The Pain returns.
I want to breathe. I want to live. I want to feel the rush as all my body awakens and revels in new existence--Rebirth. Its odd how something so ordinary can redefine a person, how something so obviously taken for granted and ignored can make us anew—a Renaissance of living, giving new life to life, helping life live. That’s just funny to say. My chest chuckles--I can’t laugh. I can’t breathe so how could I anyway? I smile. Vanity is alluring. I am vain. I deny that which defines life just to feel alive. Vanity, Luxury, Rebirth, Pain—such is the nature of my breathing, the archaic nature of involuntarily driven muscle memory.
Would I even know how to breathe if it wasn’t burned into the most ancient quadrants of my brain? I don’t even know the part that drives the muscle memory. Perhaps when people die there are a few lingering moments where their lungs contract like the twitching mouth of a decapitated fish, gulping at air to fill dead lungs. Maybe breathing is so primal that it doesn’t end with the rest of the body.
The burn has come. I can feel the fire inside my chest. I welcome its warmth, rubbing my hands over the radiating inferno as if I just came from the dead winter cold without the weathering to block out the chill. The warmth permeates through me. Would breathing feel better than this? Could it? I doubt. Only at the razor edge of life while teetering upon the precipice stealing insecure glances to the other side on the off chance that we may glimpse a greener field do we know what living really is.  So aren’t I living now more so than ever before? Whilst denying myself a breath, aren’t I more aware of what it means to be alive? I laugh. Denying yourself air only leads to an end. No, the end--Death. Yet I appreciate life more so dying than living. I deserve to die. Taking for granted that which is stolen from innocents daily. Innocent? Now that’s a peculiar ideal. They are the same. I wonder if they are aware that they breathe. That’s absurd, of course they are. How could they not be? ******* life, ******* air, but do they know what it means?
I feel my lungs contract again—Pain. That’s all it is now, but why? I know I can breathe, yet I choose not to. Is it the act of forcing myself not to take a fresh breath, or the fact that I have yet to do so that hurts? Maybe it’s because I now know what I’ve been doing all these years. At the brink I realize what it means to live. Was I living before? Yes, but I wasn’t alive. Interesting that, to live without being alive—sounds as if I’m hooked to a load of machines keeping me from decay. That’s all they do really. Awareness, that’s living. Breathing is merely the means. The end is being aware, awakened to the fact that an action which you can’t control is the only thing keeping your head above ground. After all, even when drowning the body wants to breathe.
I open my mouth. I lie to my body. I still fill my lungs with nothing but stubborn desire, desire to delay my breathing. I imagine what it will feel like to take that first breath—a Renaissance of living. I can feel the blood in my veins bubble in anticipation. My body wants to be alive. My heart can’t beat fast enough. Striking a furious pace it pumps my blood through my body spreading life and oxygen to every limb making me light headed and delirious with its purity.
I’ve decided. I’m going to breathe again. I’m going to live. And what’s more, I’m going to be alive.
My mouth still open, my lungs still closed, still screaming, still burning, still tightening in their involuntary way—breathing air that isn’t there, air that they know is there, available to them at their whim. I open my lungs.
I exhale. Now that is interesting. I’ve denied myself the life of breath until my lungs begin to pump out of sheer memory and longing for that which gives them purpose. Denied that which defines life, that which I want—that I need. And I exhale?!? Further delaying what my instinct has told me to take? How is that logical?
Air rushes into my lungs. Funny, I scarce expanded them at all. I feel the life rushing to my fingertips, to my toes, to my ears and eyes—to my kidneys even. I am alive. It’s funny though. Part of me feels like I’ve just died, like I’ve ceased to live. I laugh long and hard, throaty and merry and so brim full of life. I began to live again, became alive at the very instant I ceased to exist. And it is so funny.
-a Dec 2014
Are you alive? Or just breathing?
To judge whether I'm alive or just simply breathing is significant.
For seasons I've been heaving through corrupt lungs,
trying to find the little piece that will save me.
I've been breathing for as long as I can remember.
Maybe this drowning will subside and I can finally be alive.
Months have made me more alive.
Each day living and feeling everything. Alive feels so free and up lifting.

But here I am again.
Questioning in this very moment whether I'm alive or just breathing. And I think at this point I'm just trying to make my chest rise through the night.
It feels so good to be alive.
I just want to get back to the me that never had to remind myself to breathe.

I want it to be an automatic and harmonious inhale of life.

Tommy Jun 2014
You're running away from them
And they've put a price on your head
Dead or alive
They're shouting
Dead or alive.

I don't know what you did
To make them want you dead
Dead or alive
They're shouting
Dead or alive.

Their knives are at the ready
And their guns loaded with lead
Dead or alive
They're shouting
Dead or alive.

The noose is swinging slowly
"Do you accept the charge?" They said
Dead or alive
They're shouting
Dead or alive.
now all it needs is a tune :)
Kuzhur Wilson Apr 2019
In your place,

I planted a *******.

On the southern border

Of a dilapidated, porous house.

When it rains,

Seeds sprout in the fields.

When the bugle sounds,

The dead come alive.

In your place,

I planted a *******.

I used leaves that have decayed

More than the usual

As manure.

I took handfuls of the sand,

That was measured out

For construction of the house,

And spread over its base,

Without any measure.

I diverted the rain,

That was flowing away lazily,

To its base.

******* trembled

As love swelled up within.

When it rains,

Seeds sprout in the fields.

When the bugle sounds,

The dead come alive.

In your place,

I planted a *******.

I kissed every leaf,

Without anyone seeing it.

Its veins looked like yours,

When I read them gently.

And when the eyes welled up

I made a ridge under them

With my soiled hands.

When it rains,

Seeds sprout in the fields.

When the bugle sounds,

The dead come alive.

In your place,

I planted a *******.

I will nurture it with love.

I will fight with ants and beetles

And even butterflies.

If it ever droops,

I will pamper it with sweet talks

And pet names uttered in its ear.

When it rains,

Seeds sprout in the fields.

When the bugle sounds,

The dead come alive.

In your place,

I planted a *******.

I will stand guard to it

In rain and shine.

I will tattoo on my palm

Its green, branches and leaves.

When it rains,

Seeds sprout in the fields.

When the bugle sounds,

The dead come alive.

In your place,

I planted a *******.




I will pour out the soul of life

Just for it.

When it rains,

Seeds sprout in the fields.

When the bugle sounds,

The dead come alive.

In your place,

I planted a *******.

In nights, when I really lose it,

I will hug it and cry my heart out.

I will shower it with kisses,

Drenched with tears and spittle.

I will lie down on its lap,

When the eleven bells crumble.

And when I feel naughtier

I will close my eyes

Get inside it

And hide in there.

When it rains,

Seeds sprout in the fields.

When the bugle sounds,

The dead come alive.

In your place,

I planted a *******.

One day,

It will flower.

And sing aloud, yellow yellow yellow.

The wind, birds and all creepers around

Will take up that song.

When it rains,

Seeds sprout in the fields.

When the bugle sounds,

The dead come alive.

In your place,

I planted a *******.

One day.

One day

I will open my day

With its sight

And fade away to next life.

It will wait for me

Till the next life.

‘ When it rains,

Seeds sprout in the fields.

When the bugle sounds,

The dead come alive.’

A requiem sung at funeral of Christians.
Kuzhur Wilson

trans. Anand Haridas
Anthony Esposito Jul 2017
I'm alive!
I cried out to the midnight air.
Whispers of wind answered me back.
I'm alive and I want to live.

I'm alive!
I shouted to the loud crowded street.
Arms spread out and both feet together.
I'm alive and I want to live.

I'm alive!
All alone on a rooftop in my city.
Contemplating life and it's meaning.
I'm alive and I want to live.

I'm alive!
As I shake my hands in the air and scowl at the moon.
Today is not my day to die.
I'm alive and I want to live.
nova Apr 2019
thump-thump. thump-thump.
my heart. still beats.
i am. alive.
my blood. still runs.
am i. awake?
or am. i dead?
thump-thump. thump-thump.

thump-thump. thump thump.
my blood. still runs.
i am. alive.
my breath. is quick.
am i. alive?
or am. i dead?
thump-thump. thump-thump.

thump-thump. thump-thump.
my breath. is quick.
i am. alive.
my mind's. racing.
am i. alive?
or am. i dead?
thump-thump. thump-thump.

thump-thump. thump thump.
my mind's. racing.
i am. alive.
my hands. they shake.
am i. alive?
or am. i dead?
thump-thump. thump-thump.

thump-thump. thump-thump.
my hands. they shake.
i am. alive.
i try. to breathe.
am i. alive?
or am. i dead?
thump-thump. thump-thump.

thump-thump. thump-thump.
i try. to breathe.
i am. alive.
i can't. get air.
am i. alive?
or am. i dead?
a name Feb 23
i frankly just needed to get this out.
this is one hell of a long thing
not really poetry,
not really a diary,
maybe some sort of life
maybe a letter.
perhaps one last crazy word out
to be read by anyone
or no one
or everyone
that matters.


more of a wanton drunken rambling like my old works
but i guess they were a little bit more
if i had to be my own worst critic
i guess i feel i've been denying the fact
that most happiness isn't the most interesting

do i remember what was back then?
of course i do
the most interesting things were boredom
and ruin
and toil and fury
the most interesting things then were the worst
and the worst person was the most interesting

and i met the world with my eyes lensed with two bronze bottle caps
and she was a soldier who fought the silent wars
and sang the mornings after

i sang out words of disgust towards the words i was foreign to and denied the privilege of being lectured boringly about
**** your love, **** your happy family and **** your tolerance towards different people
i am nobody and none of the things you do impresses me
i was nothing and I was beginning to suspect i had to live with it

and you had to hear it
god, you did hear it
when it came the time i knew enough words to decorate the world i threw my spit and **** out in rage
i think i felt that it felt nice
or that it felt different
and that was somewhat better than what people were supposed to hear
yes, i know life is ****
it'll still be ****, wouldn't it?
your ****** smile won't do you anything

and i saw you sit quietly on the corner
waiting for me to quiet down

and i remember
vividly remember
saying to you
i'm not a good poet
i'm rude and vicious and disgusting
and i remember saying before i passed
i wanted it to stop.


somewhere between a good morning hangover blue and a worldwide health crisis i ate my first batch of useless pills
and it took a good one year just for me to wake up and feel on my bones
god, this feels awful
and my hair is fading
and my skin has blotches of red all over
and im incredibly bored

i don't think i'm dead yet
i must have thought
i could still curse god and some other religions and maybe the government or maybe even that guy next door who keeps singing to his kid
hell, i could probably still go out and drink and feel that high again
i'm not dead, i could get high again
i don't think I'll die anytime soon but i think i gotta live with being a corpse from now
i don't think you know how great my life is considering how awful of a body i am now
I've got more poems to shout to you
and a lot more to shout
and a lot more to shout
and a lot more...

and i realised
i was shouting
i realized i was hurting
it hurt my head first
then it hurt my entire life
and soon the only thing happening was realising
and hurting
and realising
and i realised
i wasn't just hurting
i was at some point
pain itself

and no happy memory came without that searing pain spilling hallucinations at it like glitter from a fire extinguisher
none of the days started making sense for me to remember them at all
and none of my boyhood years seemed to matter at all
hell, all the glitter made it seem like they never existed
or that they were somewhat the well made delusions of a well made lunatic

but i remember once
you came to me
and i almost wanted to scream to you to close the ******* door
but i remember once
i had a thought that day
that i liked seeing you
still there

and i think i remembered the past too, of course
i think we all enjoyed the ****** times with ****** things
but you stepped through that door wearing gladness on your smile
alongside the pity of your eyes
you came through that door and saw me
as if you saw someone worth seeing
or someone who at all
had a life

and do i remember who i was back then?
god, barely at all
or barely
since i had wanted to forget
but i knew i told you
when you held me as i was hemorrhaging from the pain of a lifetime
i wanted it to stop


a month after that we paid for some very expensive injectable normal

and i told you how much my life was getting better as it was getting more dull

for the first time in a while i liked water
and solid food
and open windows
and barely detectable ambient noise
and life?
i didn't know so i sneaked out to find out

you didn't hear from me for three days and i didn't have to hear from anyone about me or anything about me
and i was a stranger for once and not a ghoul

and when i came back i had to wash my face because my eyes burned a little
and i had to wash off the three days of dust that clung and wafered off what must be two years of non-being

and i don't think i remember what were the first this and and's that started a mentality of rambunctious pointless yammering about stones and rivers and seas
and leaves that glow emerald after the rain
and skies over parking lots tattered like beautiful paintings
and guitars and synthesizers
and unloved things
and unloved things
and unloved..

i think for a moment then i realised i was an unloved thing
the man who was foreign and disgusted by the world
and reviled by it
was just unloved, and..
life is ****, i knew it always was
or has it always been?
i swear it was loving before
or somehow...

and another delectably painful injection
and dangerously large amounts of significantly more effective pills
and i started feeling the warmth of..
well i knew the words for them,
Neruda knew some, and even Buk.
warmth is the sun, and the morning
and your old ***** cat sleeping on your pillow
and warmth is a person
and the world, somewhat well distanced enough to be warm enough and cold enough for life
which was

and the air was nice
alongside the dying river
as the rotted trees decorated the dying world
in a moment i knew i loved it the same way i would have loved to have always seen it
or perhaps seen it when it was most alive

and do i remember who i was back then
and i do
and i did
and i...

was a ghoul.
a well fed one
a well read one
but still with an accursed mind
ruined by the death process and healing method
i was an addict.
i was a freak.
i was a broken thing
i was entirely sure i was permanently broken

and i knew the moment i started to love
for when i did love
i clung to it
every love i felt and every love i gave i cast and behold to everything in the world that felt like new and felt like poetry
and i loved you like i loved the leaves of the sunset trees
and i loved you like i loved the raindrops doomed to be forgotten
and i loved you like...

and i was addicted to love.

when it was ripped apart from me damp and cruelly i winced in pain like the first few months of a cold turkey stop

and in that moment it felt like none of the work to get better was going to matter

i started to become a loving thing.
but a sick one at that
a recovering alcoholic at that
a ****** or a bipolar or an autistic or i don't know
for a moment i was a loving ghoul
and when it did end
as all things felt in the first times would
i felt once again

an unloved thing.

and i came to you and i had still the energetic wanton drunken list of words and questions that all asked the same thing
i have loved you, life
and i had hated you
and i was starting to tell everyone
that hate didn't have as much of a life as love
and still
i am in pain
i am in shambles
i am disfigured
why is life ****?
i was planning on not letting it be anymore-
why couldn't you?


on a warm day after the coldest of monsoons i sat on the forest road
where i stop to sit and pray to my only faith and my first comfort-
the wind that felt like peace and calm over a world that turned so hard and complicated

i closed my asked and in defeat i said
i love you, and i had
but i want it to stop.


i had work that morning and i couldn't see you
and i had friends planning a gig and i was planning on throwing my energy into it
and i had family coming over that demanded the best from me
and no one knew i started trying my best for once

i was still drinking the pills,
dreading the pain,
but watching for the sunsets and perhaps the last comforting winds before the ocean currents suffer a stroke

and i was starting to decide what my favourite color was
what my favourite clothes would be
how to describe my favourite music
how to help the ones around me
understand enough of how i liked happiness

well i guess life was normal
but on those few months i wasn't entirely sure
it was as if i came out of a burning building
onto the next house on the block

and i didn't have the time to find out if this really was what normal meant
if ordinary was ordinary
and if the sorrows and fear were ordinary
or if they were as abnormal as they were before
i learned the new normals of the new people
and i couldn't help thinking
well, i remember that
and i remember that
and i'm pretty sure it made me a lunatic
and sorry but as long as you're with me we're gonna try to fix that sleep schedule
and we're going to eat properly but still satisfyingly
and we can just sit in silence knowing the sadness
but you could still see on my face how i believe in you
hell, i know life is **** but i'm pretty sure you're not.

and i couldn't help being worried
i don't think they could tell who i was from what i looked
that somewhat apparently,
everyone started turning into a ghoul of what they once were
at some point

thinking about it now i thought all of you looked lovely
and i hoped you were fine with what i looked
because i don't think i have enough new stem cells to look healthy anymore anyways

and where was i...?
oh i had a job
and friends
and a boring existence
wait, am i back to the start,
or did the past exist,
or am i doing this right,
or am i somehow

it's the same thing, is it?
or some new thing
or a sheep in wolf's discount clothing
or life has taken a new form

and i realised the one thing that made me who i was
and seemed to fit as an answer to every event that i couldn't warrant a question to
was the same thing asked by everyone
as an afterthought, or a ruinous dilemma-
what is this life?
i am so torn and confused and tired and what is this life?

i know the alcoholism didn't answer it
i know suffering didn't answer it
i'm pretty sure religion and the government and the baby crying next door was close to an answer but nowhere near properly useful enough to keep us satisfied-
i died and lived again reborn with well medicated eyes to see the pretty things from the avant garde form of this impossible physical world
and yet i knew that still didn't answer it
and love
god, love
love didn't answer it
and i had a big investment on that thing
and everything was normal again
but love didn't answer it
and love couldn't answer
and even my mad insane love-

and love.
i saw you sitting on your cold floor believing you were cursed
i saw you play the greatest note ever beamed and still believe you'll be no one
i felt the wind i worshipped sing alongside you on the song you learned in a few minutes
i held on my hand my admiration of you and my worry of you while you were telling the story of how your family did nothing
but become the very capitalism they weren't lectured boringly enough about

i saw your sadness once more
i see your tears have gotten you lost
i saw you almost die
I started loving you
and you started to live
and i started to live
and everything
will die
and i am still
but i know you made me not care enough about death
if it meant that love was real..

you loved me and i loved you
it hurts me now to see you suffer
as i did
in your different life the same cold floor
the same empty garage
the same burning tears
i saw you start doubting who you are
i held your hand.

hello, poetry
i must admit
i haven't been making good poems.
you gave me so many lives to live in that i was never a single poet.
my word turned cheaply strong,
cheaply sappy,
cheaply simple-
yes, i have started thinking
that poetry could never properly describe the absolute mess we're in
not just mine-
mine never got good enough to be a constant axiom of itself anyways-
a happy man wrote about war.
a sad man wrote about the cirrus clouds.
a lonely girl wrote about the best wedding,
the one i loved wrote of her fear of pain-
no, poetry does not make us a single poet
if anything, it just showed me how much of a sucker i am for love
no, our complicated existence never meant we were liars or idealists
yes, i wonder about your lives sometimes.
life is ****, and i understand what you wrote,
god, aren't we all tired...

i miss you, always.
i looked at you and saw life itself
i held your hand and held my tears
knowing what life did to one of it's loves.
you are not an unloved thing and i know because i never was
because how could someone like me
who was like me
be allowed to be cursed with the blessing of a normal life
a redemption in disguise
a chance to live and choose what he loved and be allowed to love everything-
i know it could be because life is a funny little ****,
and god is a bundle of fiber optic cables and yes and no's and just a nanometer of a "sure, you can have both."
and fear hurt love before
and love fears once more,
and you are not an unloved thing because i love you-

because i love you..
what is life? i don't know.
i tried finding out, and ended up almost dead.
i tried living it, and almost died.
i tried loving it, and realised it couldn't love itself the way i couldn't love myself.
what is life?
what is life?
what is...


i realized i am alive.

i quit my job, drank once more, talked a little quieter but talked a lot more.
i read and read and god ******* **** that headache can ruin a life and where the **** is my cigarette?

i tried not loving anything for a second. it was alright.

i tried being a barker for a few days. surprisingly fun.

i tried walking a little faster. i could still see the trees.

i tried forgetting you. i failed.

i remember why. i dreaded losing memories. even the memory of pain.

i tried ***** once again. i could probably hold my liquor better than these guys.

i am trying to live. i know i will die.

i am quite certain that i'm alive and well right now.

and after months of living and trying and being, after knowing every normal and every abnormal, i was ready for that dreaded AP test-

i tried to love you again, life. i missed you dearly.

i felt your sadness, and your happiness, and then braced for the confusion-

and i love you still.

and when the last question came, when i faced myself with the same last question as i have always faced...

i failed. i couldn't stop. i don't think i will anytime soon.

right now i guess i have a good answer.

what is life?
I don't know.
I tried living it to find out and ended up still alive.
I have known it simply, and casually, and in complicated ways.
I have hated it, fought it, hid from it.
I have loved it. I still do. Maybe later I could tell you why.

but what is it?
maybe it's us
or just you
or just me
don't let that get to your head though. share the sunset.

i have decided to not bother with that question.
don't bother with that question.
i love you.
i'm glad you're alive.


i realised i could still frown
and sigh
and cry.
i realised that all that I've earned was never sanity or mental acuity or happiness.
i realised i'm just a person.
i realised i'm confusing to read.
i realised most of us are.


today i ate two pieces of ham and drank nothing but water
i started to quit smoking a few days ago and i think I'll be fine.
i think of her and it makes me wince for a second, followed by a smile that takes a while to wipe.
i think of all the stuff i will be talking about with my friends.
i think of the ache on my picking hand and the callus on my fretting hand.

it's a normal day.
it's a hard life.

i think briefly on my previous thoughts and realize
man, did my mind go through the worst.
when i wasn't a person, I'm pretty certain most people saw me as an unhinged jaw. idk

i think of what i wrote today.
one last ramble.
briefly, i think about hiding my other poems for the time being.
hello, and sorry, poetry. honestly I'm kind of confused as to what poems i want out right now.

i think of all the confusing days i had, and all the hard times, and all the times i grieved because of me and the hard times.

me from the past was an unloved thing. you're gone now, but i can still love you. i'm sorry i'm a bit late.

i think of the life i left behind. i think of the world that remained and stayed alive with me.

i do not consider myself a born again, or a miracle. life is still **** and I'm in a minimum wage job right now.

but i am alive and living right now

i am alive and living right now

i am alive and living right now


and to love, and to life.
aren't we all quite tired.
but i am proud of you,
glad for you,
hope you forgive me.

and i will suffer this weird little thing with you
and i will care for you as you have tried for me
and i will listen to your complicated world, your ineffable grace, the silence thereafter.
look, i'm quite tired as well
but the sun is rising...

.. .....
to anyone who read the whole thing, thanks...?
if this was any interesting, or any readable if we're being honest, let me know what you thought. this will actually be my last work here. somewhat.

by a name. the ones i love know what name that is. maybe soon I should tell you too.
Mark Tilford May 2016
The will to thrive
Trying to survive
It is not a test-drive
It's about living and being alive
Maybe you just need to be revived
Staying alive
While taking a nose dive
You need drive
When needed, taking five
Living and being alive
You owe no one an alibi
I hope you realize
Never no need to apologize
Do not be terrified
You should not be deprived
Living and being alive
Then wait for the surprise
You will not be denied
Just satisfied
Living and being alive
Willingly it will provide
Even in your demise
While living and being alive
Your rules, you only need to abide by
Tom McCone Feb 2013
call up in spring, maybe maybe maybe
I've caught mine in the stream:

                 hollow things.

hollow, hollow, seeing and free
directions, contortions
cool down, riverbeds of
flowers that sun made
in dark spot phase turning to
alive alive alive alive alive
breathing cold warm cold, nothing


ripples like the stilts feet fell through to
carve square pegs in the holes in my
skin and feign ignorance to let up
sunspot light fading writhing
keeping me alive alive
alive alive alive
all through
this gold
Sam Conrad Jan 2014























I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

I'm in my
Happy place

Stay alive

Stay alive

Stay alive

Stay alive

Stay alive

Stay alive

Stay alive

Stay alive

Stay alive

Stay alive

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I can do this

I'm full of ****

No I'm not

I'm full of ****

No I'm not

I'm full of ****

No I'm not








st64 Feb 2014
“I know you're tired but come, this is the way...

In your light, I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you,
but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.”*        ― Rumi

“You and I have spoken all these words, but for the way we have to go, words are no preparation. I have one small drop of knowing in my soul.
Let it dissolve in your ocean.

A mountain keeps an echo deep inside. That's how I hold your voice.”
― Rumi

“Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you.
Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.

Set your life on fire. Seek those who fan your flames.”   ― Rumi

“The way of love is not
a subtle argument.

The door there
is devastation.

Birds make great sky-circles
of their freedom.
How do they learn it?

They fall, and falling,
they're given wings.”                          ― Rumi

“The morning wind spreads its fresh smell. We must get up and take that in, that wind that lets us live. Breathe before it's gone.

Sorrow prepares you for joy.
It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow.
Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their
place.”                                     ― Rumi

“You are so weak. Give up to grace.
The ocean takes care of each wave till it gets to shore.
You need more help than you know.

Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder. Help someone's soul heal.
Walk out of your house like a shepherd.”
― Rumi, The Essential Rumi

“You think you are alive
because you breathe air?
Shame on you,
that you are alive in such a limited way.
Don't be without Love,
so you won't feel dead.
Die in Love
and stay alive forever.

I want to see you.
Know your voice.

Recognise you when you
first come 'round the corner.

Sense your scent when I come
into a room you've just left.

Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.

Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.

I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
“more”...                                                       ­     ― Rumi

“When you go through a hard period,
When everything seems to oppose you,
... When you feel you cannot even bear one more minute,
Because it is the time and place that the course will divert!

The cure for pain is in the pain.
In Silence, there is eloquence. Stop weaving and see how the pattern improves.

The truth was a mirror in the hands of God. It fell, and broke into pieces. Everybody took a piece of it, and they looked at it and thought they had the truth.”                                       ― Rumi

“Study me as much as you like, you will not know me, for I differ in a hundred ways from what you see me to be. Put yourself behind my eyes and see me as I see myself, for I have chosen to dwell in a place you cannot see.

Moonlight floods the whole sky from horizon to horizon;
How much it can fill your room depends on its windows.”
― Rumi, The Essential Rumi

“Keep walking, though there's no place to get to.
Don't try to see through the distances.
That's not for human beings. Move within,
But don't move the way fear makes you move.

If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?

Start a huge, foolish project, like Noah…it makes absolutely no difference what people think of you.”   ― Rumi

“Do you know what you are?
You are a manuscript oƒ a divine letter.
You are a mirror reflecting a noble face.
This universe is not outside of you.
Look inside yourself;
everything that you want,
you are already that.”
― Rumi, Hush, Don't Say Anything to God: Passionate Poems of Rumi

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing, there is a field.
I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.

What you seek, is seeking you.”                             ― Rumi

“The lion is most handsome when looking for food.

Pain is a treasure, for it contains mercies.
Love comes with a knife, not some shy question, and not with fears for its reputation!

I am your moon and your moonlight too
I am your flower garden and your water too
I have come all this way, eager for you
Without shoes or shawl
I want you to laugh
To **** all your worries
To love you
To nourish you.”                                          ― Rumi

“I was dead, then alive.
Weeping, then laughing.

The power of love came into me,
and I became fierce like a lion,
then tender like the evening star.”                        ― Rumi

“Suffering is a gift. In it is hidden mercy.

Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving.
It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair.. come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again, come, come.

But listen to me. For one moment - quit being sad. Hear blessings
dropping their blossoms
around you.

I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways.”
― Rumi

“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don't go back to sleep!
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep!
People are going back and forth
across the doorsill where the two worlds touch,
The door is round and open
Don't go back to sleep!

These pains you feel are messengers. Listen to them.”
― Rumi, The Essential Rumi

“Like a sculptor, if necessary,
carve a friend out of stone.
Realise that your inner sight is blind
and try to see a treasure in everyone.”                    ― Rumi

“Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy, absent-minded. Someone sober will worry about things going badly. Let the lover be.

There are lovers content with longing.
I’m not one of them.”    ― Rumi, The Essential Rumi

“There is a secret medicine given only to those who hurt so hard they can't hope.
The hopers would feel slighted if they knew.

You were born with potential.
You were born with goodness and trust. You were born with ideals and dreams. You were born with greatness.
You were born with wings.
You are not meant for crawling, so don't.
You have wings.
Learn to use them and fly.”          ― Rumi

“Forget safety.
Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation.
Be notorious.

Inside you, there’s an artist you don’t know about… say yes quickly, if you know, if you’ve known it from before the beginning of the universe.”
― Rumi

“Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.”     ― Rumi

"On a day
when the wind is perfect,
the sail just needs to open and the world is full of beauty.
Today is such a day.”
                                               ― Rumi

S T – 25 feb 14
Rumi - born to native Persian speaking parents in 1207.
Died 1273 AD.
Rumi (an evolutionary thinker) believed passionately in the use of music, poetry and dance as a path for reaching God.
Megan H Jan 2016
See that bed?
That's where he had his heart attack
When my dad was alive.

See that hospital?
That's where he was
When my dad was alive.

See those chairs?
We sat there waiting
When my dad was alive.

See those double doors?
I walked through those
When my dad was alive.

See that fountain?
I used to see it everyday
When my dad was alive.

See that cafeteria booth?
That's where me and my family ate
When my dad was alive.

See that nurse?
I think she might recognize me from
When my dad was alive.

See that couch?
That's where I sat
When I learned
That my dad had died.
See this smile?
It's been gone ever since.

Today I visited the hospital that my dad passed away in. I didn't realize that the feelings would come back so strong. It's been nearly 5 years, but it feels like yesterday.

— The End —