Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
spacewalker Oct 2017
no rules allowed and chaos ensues
alcoholics start hitting up the *****
teens start trying on Holocaust shoes
men in black suits keep signing off on paper
no regard for woman no they just **** her
people once in power now cry in the shower
but at least they can't feel the fear on the streets today
people still fearing to be ***
people still fearing to say hey
no way
tired black suits just sign away
Ivan Brooks Sr Aug 2018
We are all here today
Courtesy of yesterday.
So fear not tomorrow,
It's a gift from God to borrow.

Take a look at everything,
Do you miss anything?
Everything, everyone here today,
Began their journies yesterday.
  
Fear not what tomorrow brings,
It could be some good or bad things.
Things allowed by yesterday
Just to manifest themselves today.

Yesterday is the same as today,
It's just a day that has passed away.
Though it takes a part of us with it,
Tomorrow is what we all await.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
21/8/2018
Fear not yesterday, its a broken arrow.
Stu Harley Sep 2018
oh
lord
at
the
edge of
these
clouds
only
these
angel's
wings are allowed
Who can guess the Masquerade of this Time
Such Event is a Turtle; Withdrawn to a Box
None is ever wasted; None is left behind
None is allowed to lick and tether a Fox
It is the Creature; Banned for a Reason
The Furry Red was no benefit to avail
You cannot bargain; Not even for a Season
Better if the Document is stamped by a Snail
At least it was Honest; And hardly Fraud
Shall my Letter then be sent with such Mail
Else cheat your Lover whilst he is Abroad?
Or perhaps better resolve this Bitter Alimony.
Neither you or I in this Picnic we enjoy
The Duckling Issue whose Exit we deploy.
幽玄 Jun 2018
The first sign of a dream approaching is that when you’ve already awoken,
awoken to a strange place with no trace of how you could’ve gotten there.
And the unfamiliar, faces near, with eyes similar to shards– shaded  
you can’t help but notice those feelings emitted were somehow something you’ve come to known before,
but where?
–a notion coursing its way around a soundless observatory only to further dissipation—
A sign of discord covers the room,
all that was allowed is furthest from you,
a parched paper made from what seemed like rugged twine knows nothing but lead between,    you find a face emerging from it,
quickly drawn with detail,
there it stops from motion to undulating surpass,
away from a darkened room up in front of a morning taking.
This conjuring source flairs outward
rising through the outworn canvas
leading it to embers
dancing away along a fizzled plane
for what was despair inscribed in this meaningful dereliction.
To what is empty from emotion is nonexistent,
I couldn’t find the reason to live on,
this dream has died as will I... as will the will of this way this place carries over me.
Yes decay follows me,
unto everywhere will there be the silent breezes to carry me past the concrete terrain into nothingness.
I find myself to live this over,
until the advent of air drowns these lungs to knowing again,
to know exactly what it means to breathe again.
I see no reason for such things as unrealistic as they may seem likely for me to occur in this living.
Again I’m stuck in a room full of my owns thoughts,
such a dangerously sorrowful place to be.
‘For everything as it may have not been
weary am I for looking forward at
The things that never happened’

‘Turning over everyday, repetitively’

Let’s just say that this isn’t personal but for those whom share a common fate. Until overturned.
In its most rawest.
5.3

Parallels:
Snow, for me exemplifies a mute understanding from in juxtaposition with various types of sadnesses that branch off into disparately inclined yearnings, to nostalgic preferences, whether known or not. Why it happens is of course obvious but the way it affects you, makes one wonder, if at all— I think I’m trailing off my train of though here, I’m not sure where this is going..

This was inspired by a remarkable composer, as I recalled a dream before, along with the yearning of trying to expose my underlying expansion of myself with my current understanding of things. what it all could mean as much of his cello’s presence affected me during that process. I’m the gray area that needs deciphering.

—continuations:
the cello that wails the loudest, is one that suffers the most. Even so, every tone encapsulates the listener with resonance. And in that, it reaches its utmost vulnerability, showing the many hues imbedded in an infinite sadness, in an astronomical way, a type of exquisite somber, that resides in the instrument’s hollowness until implementation of procedure.
Francesco Bianco and his Wage-Stock Men,
In keeping current with their Rooting Age
Built his Charity on a Stone-House then
As Leisure played a better word for Rage
Not much for Surplus Capital enjoyed
At least for some Tips won by droplets fall
That petty, really. Plus some Papers browsed
For those Picklings shared by survey and toll
Yes, the Compliment of those Blue-Bloods past
Of only their Musk to commensurate
Eve bowed out; Abel only if Forecast
By Cain and his Friends allowed him too late.
You would wonder how such Time could afford
And invest your Years for such brisk Concord.
Tanay Sengupta Sep 2018
As the moon shines
And the stars decorate the sky,
A lonely owl hymns
While the bats fly.
Lightning bugs scatter around
Like will-o'-the-wisps at night,
Without any sound
Oh, what a delight!
The neighbour's hound is on guard
She will not allow anyone to pass,
No one is allowed in her yard
At this hour, only a fool will walk on her grass.
Her howl pierces the air
Bringing an end to the silence,
She announces she won't share
She will not tolerate any form of violence.
Across the street, few floors above
Two players are taking their turns,
In the famous game of push and shove
While a tiny candle burns.













Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
As usual, I will not explain this poem. I think it is evident by now that I won't explain any of my poems to you. I want you to perceive it the way you want to. Happy reading!
April Feb 2018
Two different worlds
Two seperate skies
And only one that they can see

Inside my mind
When darkness falls
There is no other soul but me

Alone I pace
In deepest night
And no one takes my hand

To lead me from
My shadowed tomb
Where I am doomed to stand

Ah, pray for me,
Though kindness helps,
For only love can save me now

A lonely girl
Lost long ago
Who does not trust, and knows not how

Too often left
Though many cared
And no one saw the pain inside

That lonely girl
The happy mask
Was made so carefully to hide

But now it cracks
The paint wears off
And someone soon is bound to know

And steps will tread
The lonely walks
Where only I’m allowed to go

Perhaps at last
Someone will break
The wall I’ve built around my heart

But no one will
For all have eyes,
And I have been too long apart

And so, alas
For here I stand
A lonely girl in a shadowed land.
JayceeJellies Jan 2015
Am I allowed to miss you?
It seems that I'm really not.
I know everything now,
The things that you said,
That caused me to frown.
I often wonder if you even feel bad.
Do you know how many tears I had shed?
No, you don't.
It makes me feel somewhat ashamed,
How much I miss you.
Senor Negativo Sep 2012
No sirens are heard the morning is still,
Hope awakens, a vibrant animal
It was never dead, only hiding.
Modern individuals, can reveal
The root of their plight, let old wounds heal
Daughters, allowed to make their own decisions,
Mothers, remembered for loving care,
Fathers, passing wisdom to their children,
The hibernation of falsehood.
But what of those who never found these things?
To them we must give our fullest kindness,
We all were children once, and we all deserve love.
With forgiveness, justice, and harmony.
Let no further judgements be passed,
Let lovers rejoice,
Let shots ring out in celebration
Not as signals of termination.
These cycles never end,
But what festered yesterday,
Today can be healed.
Let lovers lie together in bliss,
Absorbed in communion of affections,
On this day let us heal each other,
As we heal our world,
One individual at a time.
ryn Jan 2015
I feel your heart's heavy
and your mind trailing off to places
I'm not allowed to go...
- Dajena M


My body...
Lays battered under unforgiving weather
I amble forth with unsure
In search of pastures much greener

My face...
Wears my despair
Mirrors wouldn't recognise
Reflecting back a faceless stare

My eyes...
Stung red with tears
Conveying the murmurs from my soul
Clouded by despondence that never clears

My limbs...
Bent awkward with time
Arms hang lifeless; legs sore from bearing
Load of my past of crime

My mind...
Trails in the wake of fallen dreams
Searching for an oasis
Instead finding only brackish streams

My soul...
Holds the weight of an anvil
Still I trudge to the farthest reaches
Through barren lands where all is still

My heart...
Yet beats with rhythm so true
It keeps me alive
It gifts to me...

**you...
Line take off Dajena M's "I... is hier", for Frank Ruland's, "Let's Do A Line!" challenge.

I am big fan of Dajena's poems and very much inspired by the depth of her writes.

I chose the line I did because I could relate to the message being conveyed. More often than not, we get caught in a place where we're left with only questions. We know the "what" but not the "why", "when" and "how". We only know so much therefore we can only afford to speculate. Then poem just wrote itself.

Thank you so much Ms. D for your continuous support and being such an inspiration!
erin kingham Sep 2014
A burden is the depression settling in around you like a rain cloud over only your head.
Walking from place to place soaking wet from the storm.
You are cold, you are sick, you are not okay.

2. A burden is the anxiety shaking your body until you feel like you might burst at the seams.
People can see that your hands won't stay still, and they stare.
You are trembling, you are scared, you are not okay.

3. A burden is the rumors your "best friend" has spread around the whole freshman class.
Secrets exposed to people you don't even know.
You are found out, you are alone, you are not okay.

4. A burden is the thought of suicide bouncing around your head.
The thought of death so good, yet so bad.
You are confused, you are conflicted, you are not okay.

5. A burden is reaching out for help and being punished.
No longer allowed to talk to those they told you would help.
You are lost, you are unprotected, you are not okay.

6. A burden is not a student who has experienced 1-5.
A  student who yearns so much to get better, and just keeps getting pushed down.
A student who is terrified, who is lonely, who is not okay

7. You called yourself a mental health professional.
But 8. would never deal with this student yourself.
and 9. called her a burden to the entire campus.

But the campus is unaffected, the campus is stable, and the campus is okay.

So did you mean the campus would be better off without me?

Or that you would?
True story about the counselor at my college.
Jane Doe Oct 2014
He misses me still, but that's old news.
He's missed me for so long now - he can do it in his sleep.

He does it while he eats alone at his desk,
while he runs for a train,
while the rain is coming down in sheets.
While a girl takes off her dress and he reaches for her,
his hands hesitate a decimal. He turns off the light,
and misses me.

It grows inside his chest, like a bonsai tree -
something natural but stunted.
Snipped and pruned carefully, but not allowed
to grow outside it's box. Not allowed to put down roots.

He hauled it off, across the sea.
Across China and the Middle East, he misses me.

Half a world apart, in Amsterdam I walk
with my eyes to the ground, all brown and grey.
Thinking of the planes and trains that bore him
away.
This has become second nature for me.

It's midnight in Tokyo, he sits at his desk
in the light from the street
thinking of trees, canals, red bricks, me
and when we sleep, he and I both,
it's with ghosts in the sheets.
Baby, I'm yours,
from the very start...
That's when
you first captured my heart...
I smile each time
you walk through the door...
I feel your love all around me
and through my very core...
I feel the fire
and see the light...
This with you-
feels oh so right...
I want to savour each kiss,
from the sweet to the ****...
I miss you so-
whenever we're apart...
I even allowed you to take my hand
and lead me onto the dance floor...
Having you hold me close-
and then all I want is more...
Kiss me passionately
and hold me tight...
Baby, I'm yours,
each and every night...

2008


COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
Next page