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Shi Em Aug 21
i can hear them banging
inside my head,
perhaps this time
they intend to render me dead.
harlon rivers Jan 2017
...a diary of the falling dominoes chapter

invisibly dying from the inside out
no one is looking into unseen eyes
no one can hear a muted voice fading
no one is close enough to be near

the deafening thrums echo
anxieties’ racing heartbeat
within morphing flesh shell ,
gasping for new breath
in a hovering stale silence

from a distance
the broken mirror ricochets a subdued light ;
much closer the reflection reveals
someone I once knew by heart

now an unrecognizable mask
enshrouds a terminal emptiness
inconspicuous at a fleeting glance ,
impossible to discern what storms rage
from the inside out ,... unnoticed  

an uncontained wildfire
smoldering within,  lies in wait
for the imminent winds of change
to fan the flames into the final
eternal silent ashes

a poet reaches out demurely
offering a candid look
into the window
of the imperfect human soul

there is no poetry
met by indifference
just gathered unread words scribbled,

squandered time
dripped slowly on an empty page ;
moments turn into days
days turned into years

invisibly dying from the inside out
an unfinished life trickles out
like seeping blood evanescing
from a bottomless puncture
wounding ... penetrating the heart,
leaching out the slow death of a poet

for poetry is only words unless they touch someone ...

befallen to indifference is poetic death
by salted paper cuts ...

a muting suffocation
that hiddenly erodes away,
silencing the passion
of a musing soul
one unread word at a time ...


© harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
it is an enigma how poetry evolves in meaning over time
― like a self-fulfilled prophecy, some become transformational, some become new beginnings or some become a finality of a metamorphosis of peaceful endings or deleted attempts at understanding the misunderstood...

... all to be determined and allowed to let be

― THE END ―
Esmena Valdés Sep 2018
Acts of love save.

They save from evil
from envy
from suffering
from disturbing memories.

Only acts of love save.

From the nightmarish and stagnant life.

From anxieties
from unnecessary tears.

Acts of love save.

From words that hurts
from the fiend of insomnia.

From self-flagellation.

From monotony and emptiness.

Only love saves you

from sadness lagoon

from yourself.
Shewrites Jul 2018
You're my
Sweetest
escape

In a world
Full of chaos
And pain.

You're the sugar
To my bitter tea

The milk to
My coffee

My comfort food
When anxieties
Of life kicks in

The lullaby
During my
Sleepless night.

Happy song
When I'm
Feeling down

Ear plugs
During the
roaring thunder

Squishy pillow
To hug when
I miss home

The jazz music
To calm my
Troubled soul

And the stars
That companies
Me during
My lonely nights.

You're my
Sweetest escape
The world
Could have offer

S.S
Paul Mar 13
Over the bed, a ceiling fan revolves
elliptically. The yellowed walls speak
of anxieties archived by the lungful.
From his fingers the snaking upward blue
smoke of burning tobacco describes tumult.
She has gone back into the world. Alone
in their aftermath he inhales like a figure
growing distant in a cinema purged
of heroes. The worn sheets rope about
his ankles and recall an inmate’s noose.
She'd been inside. And for years. How she assumed
her role in the act, face to the wall, silent, work-like.
It was a thing they laughed about. Her parting
glance was inscrutable.

He drew deeply, and a ring
of orange fire bloomed, briefly proclaiming love
remained a chance. Who could know? The arhythmic
rocking of the fan beat the hot air back
onto him, the lone smoker, smoking blankly.
The curtains billowed into the parking lot
like some great tongue, wildly, mute. And under
the window, in the shadowless heat, a dog,
limp with thirst, laps at the drips that drip from a pipe.
a re-write and re-post. I've strived for meaningful enjambments and a sense of metre while attempting to sound contemporary
ryn Oct 2014
tell me...

will tomorrow bring,
     all the things
i'm longing...
    stowed upon its elusive wings,
tirelessly beating
    and fighting
to show what's dangling
and hanging...
          ready for the picking...

                          awaiting...
such time so it could begin its need for unloading,
                   delivering
                                      and dropping,
its gleaming
                      treasures
on those who are deserving,
        in no way lacking
so they could be at the receiving
end of this pressurising,
           inking
                      of dwindling
                                        words...

carel­ess thoughts conceived only to
              fuel
           my deranged ramblings...
incessant mutterings of a shattering
                         mind...

           bending backwards, almost breaking,
         risking...
the chance of ever fully
                                          mending...

hopin­g and praying
   for a sentence that's pending
dawn's approval...

allowing
   the rising
of the sun...
                  paving
            ways for thriving
                                          wishes,
unbarr­ing
                  gates for soaring
                                                dreams, unlocking
                   latches,

relieving...
the heightening
                     anxieties of grieving
                                                        ­ hearts.

constantly whispering
                               utterances, promising
good will, happiness
                              and titillating
                                                     ­ sanity.

we're thinking...
     the earth is spinning,
         the moon is setting,
     so the sun must be rising
                         but...

             tell me,
                           tomorrow...

                                *is it coming?
Ashari Ty Jul 2018

It was a great relief to realize
That your anxieties are just cute lies
But only if I had strength to tell you
That the things you said are the things I do

Every time I remember you.
Nolan Willett Apr 14
By spring’s birth I will disappear,
Till then and only then I’ll last,
Amidst thriving plants and trees and fears
Oh, what an ironic contrast.

It would scream “He is an artist!
And we should have loved him for it!”
And I would remain untarnished
When I life’s pains and joys outwit.

Truly, it is miraculous,
The content and sublimity
Reached choosing to be impious,
Resolved to anonymity.

The wind ceases, the snow subsides,
The sun shows its duplicitous face.
Time has come, now nature provides
Artistic end to this snide race.
Carter Ginter Nov 2017
These emotions swirl around my mind
Like the glowing leaves outside
Yellow anxieties, orange excitements, and red passions
All intermingling to create something divine
For those who don't understand
It appears disorganized and unnatural
But as sure as leaves return to trees in the spring
My feelings will continue to bloom for someone
More than one
And that's beautiful
zebra Sep 2016
i constantly feel the need
to express to you
my inner unreasoned
masturbatory stream of consciousness.
and i want you to know
i consider it an immense privilege
for you to be so kind
dearest
as to stand
under my ghastly orchard

my darkest poems
blood letting streams
are a kind of ******
fetishy cognitive inventory
malformed denizens
of the subconscious
a well of torments
soup of Salmonella
the souls gut
its cauldron
yet not with out lurid enticements
and voluptuous supplicants
gorgeous
like an eight legged woman
with beautiful feet
drooling **** lips
drunk on sacrificial rituals
of blood black tongued kisses
and hideous contorted pleasures
*******

once
exquisite archetypes
gods and goddesses
are now
putrefied
cellar dwellers
moaning in nature bed crypts
of rock, stone
and engraved sigils

because honest pure desires
became fragmentary
and are now gimping amputees
by legions of primal disappointment

while faces blare in the world
like super bright L.E.D.s
shinning paths to others
our deep self
remains patinaed in tears
a black box pox with a lock
the skeleton key lost
in arcane seas

out of utter disgust
for those dark crawlers
that live within us
revealing them selves
as anxieties, depressions
suicides
and myriad quiet despairs
we appear undaunted
to others
and they to us

humanity
muffled ticks
and splintered sticks

my poems let my demons out

yoo who its me
my name is spray snake z
with my hooks and cries
and dark blood skies

in the misty night
i dragged out their earthen coffins
legends of the despicable
resurrected them
fed and loved those darklings
had every conceivable union with them
their healing, my own

ive sexualized them
and found love
albeit twisted

to be adored
in a hidden embrace
i bestow upon you a poetic fantasy
while obsession takes hold

bind it not
nor let it bind you
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ******
If i where a film maker or a novelist  you  would see me telling a story not judge me  although i admit to my paraphilias  
These poems  are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive  impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about
DancingEnt Jul 2018
In these days of
Feeling like we are wrong..
Wrong for having feelings
Emotions
We are told that we must always

BE HAPPY

Get a good job
Wife
Husband
Life
Kids
House
Car
Truck
And let's not forget all those toys we have to have in our kitchens, living rooms, and attached garages.
The latest game
The biggest TV
And anything that is the latest generation of Samsung or Apple

If you have all of these things, it is guaranteed: you will be happy.

But here is the FLAW.

You aren't happy because you dont have all of the things society says that you should have to be happy.
Once you get these things, society just replaces all of these things with new things.
Newer games
Bigger TV's
And of course!
The latest generation of anything Apple or Samsung
So what is the point of striving for all of these things when it is never going to be enough?
Something will always be better than what you have.

Unless you choose for it not to be.

You have the decision before you to be HAPPY.
Enjoy what you have.
The right game
The right TV
Apples in the fridge and *** is Samsung?

Once you stop worrying about being what society wants to be and be who you want to be

Isn't that happy?
Rantinnnggg
Kris Apr 2015
Tip one: everyone has problems, exploit that.
The main ones are money, love, death, and existential crisis;
it’s better to write about the former two because the other two…
well, they are the things that people are trying to forget
when they read about the trivial parts of their lives
in the cleverly-phrased lines of your horoscope.
So cater to their needs and help them escape for a moment
through the frivolous indulgence of your vague predictions.

Which leads to tip two: keep it vague.
No one cares about the details. Horoscopes are like Mad Libs:
you give them the starters and they fill in the blanks
with their personal lives and experiences.
Horoscopes should be empty boxes that people pack
with the cluttered thoughts in their head to make room,
to lighten the load up there in their minds.

And this treads on the territory of tip three: white lies.
Clear out all the anxieties, the mind needs the extra space
because that thing called hope? Yeah, it’s kind of claustrophobic.
It needs all that room to be comfortable. If the mind is filled with anxieties
that hang around like that roommate’s friend who’s always over
hope will check out. For good. So by the last line you better have them
picturing their perfect life that will unexpectedly fall into their laps
once they are, “receptive to the idea of changes to come.”

Your horoscope should be a cathartic, spiritual (albeit cheap) experience;
people want to hear that the stars are conspiring to bring them good luck
and the perfect lover. A piece of sincerity among lies and half-humor.
This is the formula for the perfect horoscope.
Spenser Bennett Feb 2016
My hands
Brought to ruin
Wasteland
Burnt to death by fruition
When every song will grind our souls
We will live to break our bones
In service of the name we cannot speak
Our life, our death an endless melody on repeat
Should I breathe or just give in?
Should I love or die my friend?
Love to death, breath to surrender
I, begin

To see the nature of all these monstrosities
Bound inside my hidden anxieties
But nothing helps when the sun still sets
On empty halls in houses not yet meant
To shelter the weak from the coming storm
To shelter us from the pulpit, mourn
Our insufficient gesture of goodwill
In the darkness we suffer soft and still
Should I breathe or should I just give in?
Should I love or die my friend?
Love to death,
breath to surrender
Decompose the sound of silence,
return to sender
Helena B Dec 2016
I've fallen in love with a ghost, a man, an angel with crooked wings.
I've fallen in love with the way he speaks, every tick and twitch, the way he looks when he's anxious.
I want to preserve him in poems and picture books.
His soul bears the weight of every cigarette and tear he has shed.

Poor lonely ghost, why do you hide behind closed curtains and mountain man ****** hair?
Poor lonely ghost, no one can get close to you,
Only because you are too scared of getting hurt.
So instead, you hurt yourself because it's easier this way.
Poor lonely ghost, you live inside a cave, insist it's better being alone with your things and your heavy thoughts.
But the weight, it grows.
Poor soul, you were not built to hold the weight of a lonely mans world.
With all of his tears and broken hearts and anxieties and cigarettes and sad poetry.

Please take care of yourself, my lonely ghost.
And please try to open to curtains and watch the sunrise.
M e l l o Sep 21
Run
I miss
running
away
from
all
my
anxieties
I miss running. Sept. 21
lila Feb 21
i was at work this evening
sweeping back and forth
back and forth
and back and forth
...12 times
mind plagued with compulsions,
ocd, anxieties
i hear the whispers
muttered by those who think
that u were the one
who did this to me
wow, u really drove me mad,
drove me crazy!

but back to the scene at hand
i hear the opening notes
of that band
i know and that song
that became so comfortable and
oh so familiar
...zz top, sharp dressed man

i’m taken into a trance
this image of you smiling on this couch
oh so deceiving,
yet so inviting
i give in and sneak a glance
of you
playing your own one man air band
drums and guitar
with you’re long hair flying everywhere
like a crown around your head
...before those toxins turned your hair
as thin and frail as you

there’s a tug at my heart
and it hurts a little
what’s this feeling?
i haven’t felt this towards you in a while
but it comes by sometimes
hand in hand with that deceiving smile
for a fleeting moment
...i miss u?
before i remember
what lay behind
that venomous grin

then i’m angry
for once not at you
but at myself
i hate you!
i hate you
i’m supposed to hate you
right?

i didn’t know what to feel
before i felt that familiar sensation
a heavy weight in my chest as
my heart rate speeds up
and i have to pull myself back
into reality
quick! before i lose control
thoughts spiraling around me
focus on something else
anything else!
anxieties, ocd, compulsions
maybe it’ll ease the weight on my chest
i grip the broom in my small, sweating, trembling hands
and begin to sweep
back and forth
back and forth
and back and forth
...24 times this time
1/22/2019
Kara Jean Jun 2016
The wheel clinched tight

Fingers numb and white

Hyperventilating

Counting to ten

Anxieties curse

Mind, a devine quality

Over....
Thinking

A flash of death as her passengers lay lifeless

Death

She pictures faces

A ****** mess

Stillness

Everyone sits singing and unblemished

A true definition of mangled point of view

A routine her mind has provided

Someone else hits the petal accelerating

She is familiar with picturing the world dying

She is now stamped with, "I'm part of the ****** up society"

Stay clear

She is endearing

The tea cup world believes she is dangerous
Carter Ginter Jul 2018
I love the electricity that shocks deeply
Through my soul as we lock eyes and touch foreheads
I love the way my heart feels when you text me
And when you share small bits of your life with me
Even the miles spanning between us
Could not change the way you make my heart beat
Speeding up and pulsing deep in my chest
It seems like two opposites colliding
But the rush is undeniable
I love the calmness that exists between our eyes
Despite both of our anxieties
I love the way you hold my hand when we walk
And rest your head on my shoulder when we stop
I love watching you find yourself
Amidst life's insanity
I love how strong you are in the face of fear
And how we hold each other
Through all the pain and insecurity

I love that you let me love you
Even when it's hard sometimes.
Nico Julleza Oct 2017
Pretty Pictures; as you are embracing me
Lost in an earthly mood of tranquility
Evident than the shadows fusing my feet
Obscure like pretty lies melodically
Pretty Pictures; sailing, forever will be

Rhapsodize; vividly crossing in my mind
A face of cherubim winged up the sky
Cascading through visions abrupt
A star shoots afar than any distant eye
Longing endless of her passionate touch

We are novels, with so much stories to tell
Red laces, stamps of gold, a lush lullaby
I was the house you painted white
Agitate the deepest hues, then we'd fly
Midnight kisses, Dawn and trade goodbyes

Blithe; for we need nothing to pretend
The clearest blue water, a heaven's scent
To the grass wading courteously
Cloud nine's hanging then lifts my feet
Showering up above washing all anxieties

Pretty pictures; like ribbons untangled
A touch of silk as my heart would lilt
Inner feelings frolic then they'd tremble
For in you the excitement is always a thrill
From the simplest to a goddess divine
Pretty Pictures; moments as you were mine
#Pretty #Pictures #Love #Deep #Sansatuion #Eternal

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
When I opened myself up to you
you were so gentle with the things you said
you didn’t know that you were saying the wrong things.
Tightrope walking is not an art that anyone can perform
it takes so much practice
with one wrong move you fall.
Dropping the ball and hurting everyone around you.
I’m so sorry I dropped it too early
sorry that you weren’t ready
that you don't know what to say
that i don’t know how to explain.
My depression is something I can’t control.
Some days I just feel hollow.
My numb is your bored.
My anxieties are biting your nerves.
Your anger kick starting my worry.
You saying “Why are you so sad.”
“If you don’t know then it’s not a big deal.”
"Don't be so mad."
“You can’t let yourself think this way.”
“It’s all in your head.”
You don’t understand that it is all in my head.
Giant thought structures made of lead.
My brain chemically organized to make me feel dead.
When I tell you I’m wishing for death
please
don’t make me waste my breath.
I thought it right to assess some antidepressants, which philosophers should be more inclined to call mood enhancers.
(This was during my foray into human enhancement, substances intended to enhance physicality, cognition or mood. Nootropic compounds concern the latter two categories.)

The most commonly prescribed mood enhancers are serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SRIs), but it takes over a week for these compounds reach their peak effect. I therefore approached them with the notion that a limited dosage might point to their character which would further manifest in the long-term. (Side-effect were this unlikely to be fully manifest.) These considerations in mind, I set about acquiring a few miscellaneous anti-D's.

Fluoxetine was the first successful selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI), better known by its original brand-name Prozac. Fluoxetine has an acute biological half-life of between 1-3 days. Presence of a trifluoromethyl group on the compound deserves note, I wonder what the presence of electronegative fluorine atoms add to the psychoactive flavour of a compound (subjective effects).
I administered a single dose by mouth, there was some indication of subjective character. Light serotonergic sensations and seemingly benign mood-dampening, there is a ****** towards the positive. Waking headspace relatively uninteresting. Observed hints of oneirogenesis, did not manifest in enough character to be detailed - a sort of vivid, 'pulsive wandering, more pronounced in contrast to its waking character.
Good experiment, intresting results.
Ligand     Ki (nM)   Ki (nM)
Target      Flx            Nflx
SERT        1               19
NET         660           2700
DAT         4180         420
5-HT2A   200           300
5-HT2B    5000         5100
5-HT2C    72.6          91.2
α1             3000         3900
M1            870           1200
M2            2700         4600
M3            1000         760
M4            2900         2600
M5            2700         2200
H1            3250         10000

Escitalopram is an SSRI commonly prescribed for major depression and generalised anxiety. It is the (S)-stereoisomer of citalopram. The biological half-life is of escitalopram is between 27-32 hours.
I administered a dose and thought the phenomenal serotonergicity less apparent than fluoxetine but then gastro-intestinal disturbance was noted, I correctly surmised it has a high affinity for 5-HT2C but was also surprised to find it is is quite adrenergic.
Any oneiric qualities were not readily apparent after a single dose, relatively little visual imagery which is understandable given its lack of affinity for 5-HT2A. I found this to be philosophically intresting. Mood elevation observed in bursts of conversation and as odd sensations, possible mental discomfort.
Ligand,
Recptr     Ki (nM)
SERT       2.5
NET        6,514
5-HT2C   2,531
α1            3,870
M1           1,242
H1           1,973

Venlafaxine is a selective serotonin-norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor (SNRI). Venlafaxine and its metabolites are active for about 11 hours.
Initial subjective effects similar to a very light empathogenic stimulant. Perception of altered attention-span/increased reflexive response; energising yet paradoxically much yawning.
Ligand,  Vnfx      Dvnfx
Recptr    Ki(nM)  Ki(nM)
SERT  ­    82           40.2
NET       2480        558.4

Tianeptine is a tricyclic antidepressant (TCA) with an unusual mechanism of action. It is an atypical agonist of the μ-opioid receptor and has been described as a (selective) serotonin reuptake enhancer (SRE). It has a short duration as sodium salts [prescribed form] of between 2-4 hours but as sulfate this can be notably extended, some of its metabolites are active for longer than tianeptine itself.
Definitely anxiolytic, quite artificial; possible aphrodisiac. I find its opioid activity dissuading, requires utmost caution.

Moclobemide is a reversible inhibitor of monoamine oxidase A (RIMA), its monoamine oxidase inhibition lasts about 8–10 hours and wears off completely by 24 hours. Inhibiting the decomposition of monoamines (e.g. serotonin, norepinephrine and dopamine) increases their accumulation at an extracellular level. It tends to suppress REM sleep and so it lacks oneirogenic properties.
Feeling of well-being, less constrained by the usual anxieties; openness. Relatively unnoticeable side-effects when diet is carefully managed. Made the mistake of eating a cheese and turkey sandwich (i.e. foodstuff rich in tryptophan), indications of a mild serotonin syndrome later became apparent. Symptoms included feelings of overheating and flushing, slight sweating, racing thoughts and anxious discomfort. A stark reminder of Shulgin's old adage: "there is no casual experiment".
Combination with a select few tryptamines (not 5-MeO-xxT) should be safe, and synergistic (perfect for pharmahuasca); reputed to potentiate GHB. However, generally it is extremely dangerous to combine with serotonergic drugs.
Nadia Sep 26
Rhyming Review - Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come by Jessica Pan

Introverts unite
(separately, of course),
This book is for you,
Jessica Pan is your force

For a year she denied
Her introverted tendencies
She e-dated for friends
Gave up shy dependencies

She tried stand up comedy
She spoke at the Moth
She signed up for improv
Things that make shy ppl froth

Her anxieties could have come
Straight out of my own head
You could try extroverting
Or watch Jessica try it instead

You will learn new tricks
While you frown and cringe
Or snicker sympathetically
Through your reading binge
This book was awesome!!! I listened to it while my podcast app was glitching and I am so glad I did.
Cap Oct 2017
I can’t save the girl who chases the
windblown white dust on the road
just to feel alive
Who chases smoke in the distance
to blur her anxieties

I can’t save the girl who lays in the street
Because she likes the rush of the cars as they go over her
But that rush she yearns for,
gets her run over again and again and again

I can’t keep being the white dashes on the street
Trying to keep her in line
Trying to keep her safe
My paint is fading
My heart is cracked
Striking against the contrast of the blacktop
as a final plea
to tell her to stand up and chase the stars
instead of the smoke
and the dashes instead of the dust
Because somewhere down this old cracking road
is the destination she’s been waiting for
all her life.
M Salinger Jun 2018
The anxieties are there
about meaningless things
and the meanings behind them

Time is spent
wondering

What he's thinking?
What he's doing?
What he remembers
and holds on to?
If any?
If all?

Why he's with her?
If he thinks about me
like I think about him?
If he thinks about my touch
like I think about his?
If he yearns for me?
If he wants to ******* kiss
and all of me
again?

So many musings
driven by curiousity
by desire
by a muse,
in every sense of the word

Awakening something deep
within me
deeper than lust
deeper than longing

An intensity
that's intoxicating
addicting
terrifying

An insatiable hunger
to search and swim
within his soul
one touch,
one moment
at a time

Only felt
never acknowledged,
engulfed in secrecy
engulfed by secrecy

Drinking each other in
between nuanced subcontext
one moment
at at time

Setting each other on fire.
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