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ryn Jul 2014
Silly little dreamer with magnificent wings
Within his chest his heart beats with gold
This heart also bears of truth and stings
Stings with hurtful poison of eons old

He still marvels at his sun's majestic sight
But when dusk falls his sense took pride
The deceptions untold and half truths that bite
Shameful things that only devour him inside

Dusk falls with an exceptional ominous glow
The dreamer stayed even when his sun had set
He bellows his secrets as they will not show
Bellows with might, with disdain, with regret

In through the day he whispers of truth
He screamed of lies into the night
Lies he thought were harmless but uncouth
Truth that shone grim bereft of light

So what is truth and what is not
The dreamer cried hard for he is lost
He spat on the terms that in he has bought
Terms of which he is now paying the cost

It seems the dreamer did not come alone
There are four others that haunt in tow
He hides them away like skeleton and bone
He was afraid that his love would come to know

He once was young and know not of life
Born and bred to show respect and above
Against his will he foolishly wed a wife
His heart had died for he was never in love

He performed his bid as a dutiful partner
He feigned his interest as in it was hollow
A life so unjust, his grew devoid of vigour
Nevertheless three younglings would follow

It's too late now he has himself to blame
It's too late now he'll die an empty shell
It's too late now fear he'll bring forth shame
It's too late now breathing this life is truly hell

A heavy price for a mistake he made
He could've spoken and lived his way
Afraid of actions that father forbade
Nightly he mourns for his beatless heart so grey

He knows he can never swallow his plight
He's crying and desperation grew fat and stout
Unfathomably strong, reality's grip so tight
He devised feeble means that meant breaking out

It wasn't so simple to undo such a knot
It's not so easy for a vow to be forgot
If he stayed, his life would be for naught
Living through dreams was the help he'd sought

His travels are wide, limitless and grand
A portal to which he would seek to escape
Grants him strength for the life he has to withstand
Grants him healing for his wounds that gape

Truth be told he wasn't looking for anything
It was not love even if he had the chance
He craves for what solace his dreams would bring
Finding love was all sheer happenstance

In his dreamworld he drifts aloft
He blinds himself with music and art
He then meets his sun she was beckoning so soft
The colours returned for he has found his heart

Unbelievably pure and incredibly true
His heart could dance, flutter and even soar
Feelings he had that he never truly knew
Emotions so great he's never felt before

With this find he had found himself
Felt like he had just been born
He was locked away in a dark dank shelf
With conviction, his love he had announced and sworn

Common sense is saying, "You're digging your grave"
The dreamer insists on swimming in steep
"Swim up now and be worthy of a narrow save
We know not what lurks in waters so deep"


The dreamer listens for he's got to hear
He knows he needs to fight his doubt and fear
He knows one truth and it rings perfectly clear
He has found true love and it is here

Why am I such a silly little dreamer
On my knees, I've stripped myself bare
Only you can grant love, hope and a glimmer
Or you could send me to the depths and leave me there
Hands Dec 2012
I stitch myself into your solar plexus,
red stringed within the
overlapping archways and
runaway buttresses of the body.
It runs white and gray
along the plain of the corporeal,
spires and towers reaching out to form
the webbing of white.
Wandering through the ruins
of the body collapsed,
could you hold me down and
could I make it last?
As a speck I pass
beneath the gates
of aggressive,
bony spears--
fangs ready for the ****.
The teeth frame the horror
that hearts often belie,
the nervous flutterings and out of chest poundings
that grab the floor out from under you and
plummet you into a beatless abyss.
The heart is a special kind of stomach,
a power plant ready for digestion
of rolled eyes and recycled emotions
to power the city of the body
and the spires of the soul.
If we carved into that untouched ivory,
that still-hidden treasure
that cowers beneath the flesh
would it be as satisfying
to sew myself to you
and create one of two?
A frosted, glassy figure
encased in a glassy shell,
suspended in its prison,
its home,
its island and
its Hell.
Are they questions only when
pronounced without the period?
Its the subtlety of language
that always tricks me up.
It always starts with
hurried statements and
broken glances
but ends up being
up to chances.
How well do we stack up
when there were never any odds to pile?
spires of the soul
The trees will leave; when snow arrives
For all the leaves have already left
While we looked right for the Sun.
Once rays danced through town,
Music was unheard; beatless jigs seemed
Devil wrought and the folk screamed,
"What light are you! to have robbed us
Blind we are not! Bare branches hang
Solemn as gallows overhead; what evil
Replaced the green with red?"
Without pause, the rays swung from
Leafless limb to flowerless stem;
Offended and dignified, the rays parted
Leaving the town behind with haste.
Glad were the simple folk; sad, alone.
The gallows flourished in the dark;
Folkless town the leaves found;
Silent -
               They rotted in ground.
Written 1/15/2014
Waverly Sep 2012
I've got this ****
in my arms,
cuddled tight.

I could have it forever,
cold and beatless,
my heavy love.

Maybe there's no place to go,
but I feel like there's a place,
that only you know
about. That
seems so long ago.

Don't you know you've got a strong tongue,
and a whiplash heart?

This is why
you always have a boyfriend,
and I lay with you
in a bed that's not mine;
I never tell you I'm hurting.
The suffocating feeling, as the frayed hairs of the rope burns my skin. Thinking that I have taken my last breath. No struggle, no regret, no remorse, and worst of all... The feeling of fulfillment, the serenity of calming beatless peace. Sight, slowly becoming more and more blurry as it slips away. Speech, unable to scream or cry or even whisper, and accepting it. Silence, the overwhelming negative space that fills my ears with the unrelenting nothingness. Feeling, what was once numb, now pulsing, fighting a battle I have already given up on. Then, consciousness itself is lost in the limbo of mine own meaningless hell. Insanity has beaten down reason, and logic delivered the final fatal blow. No more struggle, no more feeling, no more reason. No more me. And good riddance.
I should have ended it then. Now I'm just a ghost that hurts people.
Max May 2017
People wonder why
I write poetry

Poetry is a rapless rap
A beatless beat
An instrument free song

Poetry Is an express thing
And nothing you say is wrong

Poetry is not judgmental
It doesn't break others hearts

It helps you out
When you have doubt
It is a form of art

This is my canvas
My words are the paint
I make no masterpiece
But in poetry
there is no mistake

So to answer you're question
I'll be concise
I write poetry
because it is nice
I'm currently in a poetic mood
I worked my way up the charts
Made it to the top, I parked myself
Along the way, in some over zealous
Shallow right angled sentence, lacking
Full stops. Stripped clean, washed of
Thought, of deed. 'Inability' dangling
From fingertips that were bitten to the
Quick, sore from chewing on anxious..
Lyrics, repeatedly playing.  I forgot
To lift the stylus and hang it up to rest
And so it played on...and on...and on
I lost touch with its hiccup....sinking
To some far off disconnection.  If I try
To recall...it blinds me, my right eye
Out of focus with my left, seeing
The unseen; but if you asked me what
That meant...perhaps I'd sigh without
Knowledge, perhaps I'd smile with knowing
Nothingness, perhaps I'd scream with
Insufficient lungs, perhaps I'd sing an
Unknown melody....that repeats and repeats
                                                         ­                   ......its hiccup...beatless

© Laura Susan Smith
J Arturo May 2014
I, too, can write passion poems:

(and if you were a rose I'd pick you and stick you
in water till you withered and died and
everyone would comment
on your color
and refined shape.)

so let's collide with night through our noses:
wake to your banging fist on my swinging door
and binge on bad ideas and beatless songs
till distended with poetry we grow ill and collectively
**** sunsets onto those 365 well-ruled pages
        that we pray to in pews in this church of hedonists--
        every book a bible, all manuals for *******.

so at dawn we
criticize the sunrise, hang ourselves
from the belltower, for kicks.
or lash limbs together under covers,
those well-rehearsed kisses
a myriad of plots:

and with our bony fingers,
tie the sumblimest of knots.
A concept to fall out of love
Was foreign to me
I thought I'd love you till the end of time
When I thought of you I'd smile
I'd remember all the good times we had together
And it would make the butterflies in my stomach
Flutter and fly
The goosebumps on my arm would spike
The beat in my heart would thump
You made me so happy
How could I ever think of you as anything else
But you showed me how
You cheated and made the caterpillars come out their
Cocoon too soon
Their wings to brittle to take flight
Just cracking and falling to the ground
You lied and made
The bumps disappear
Like a magic trick you took all the faith I had in us and made it vanish into thin air
Most importantly
You broke my heart
Like a clock that stopped ticking
My heart became beatless
The blood and the vessels still flowed
But somehow it stopped beating
And just like that
You broke the heart which had beat for you
And just like that a concept
Was no longer foreign
S M Aug 2016
a beatless heart
that only moves with
strings attached.
Courtney O Nov 2018
There is pain further than pain. There is a mechanical pain, a pain that hurts not hurting at all, making you go along life but missing something deep.

There is a beatless pain. There is a pain grabbing you by the throat. But silently, so you can't yell.
There is a pain not too big, it never fully seizes, but it is there.
Constant turning of the ***** that won't make you cry, but they do oppress. Obsess. Obsess. Obsess. They oppress like few things more. You cried in pain, and you discover now there are worst realities than pain: the cryless anguish, the wordless complaint, the oblivion of loss. Will you come out of this?
Most important of it all: who will come? Will you come out alive?

And the ghosts of the past, alive tonight
Me, looking at daddy's ***
Me, thinking I am a necrophile
Me, swooning over Gaspard Ulliel
Me, being free
Me, signing my death
Me, in your bed -happy like I had never been-
Me, lost in the dark convoluted corridors
Me, about to break in parts
Me, 14 in the car, daddy is telling me that if I go madder he'll get mad in turn
Me, going psychotic
Me, atonement by the flesh
And nothing could be worst than this
the past all over me
No way to flee...
Kanak Kashyup Feb 2018
Here in the world of dark and deep...,
Offer me the undisturbed eternal sleep...
The harder you try but unable to peep...,
Don't want I to show you my scars and grief....
Preserve your presence as I'm unable to keep...
Lake, Ocean, Sea..tears are in all seep...,
Forgotten the present,unaware of need...
Optimization of memory and  your talks that creep..,
Searching you in all dreams and deeds...
Beatless by heart, life growing reminders that feed..,
No peace, instability and and powered by oversleep...
#Extract # you
# memory # you
# cure # you
And this you is my hope.
I was walking
Through the edges of night
Whispering my wishes
To the full moon in slight
Watching carefully the clouds waving
I asked them:
Could you please stop my heart raving?
My shadow
Freezing by my breathing
Take a step away,
I found a rose fallen on the street beatless
I asked it:
Could he be mine?
Happy Halloween & Full Moon!
J J Dec 2019
Her pale flesh trickling rainy vibrations ,
like watching fingers ran along a piano
   In the lense of an X-ray.

Goosebumps pricked and curling,
Her eyes were like self-contained half-moons upon half-moons builded on the budded rose of her lips
That split in a pink smile. The smile you have at that age, fauxly

assured and posing confidence.

Her face is ascribed to God over her mother, her father
  or me.
Her faith is beatless and with a kiss soft as a wrist-binded ribbon,

She said she stores all her faith into me.

A gusto glee that's marinated in the foggy dreams of
Too many days to count, or to care about anymore.

I loved her, and for the first time I believed someone when they said they loved me back.

I could hardly wait to sleep that night with her in my arms
for the very first time.
surei Mar 2020
my biggest heartbreak is still that these words were once dance:
the letters were arms, tracing invisible surfaces; the semi colons silences; the periods as fading stage lights; stream of consciousness as music, rhythm made available by choice. my choreography was a line of spirals made from bodies in diagonal formation--beatless, fleeting, smoke-like, diluted into the next move.

i had sworn my allegiance to this: the slowing of time in the practice. every breath taken lied down pulled my eyes further inside its sockets, closer to the soil under my skull - complete release of the body unto the ghostly embrace of stillness.

i let this take me.
Munch Gee Nov 2017
If this verse were an object,
It would be both hard and soft.
The emotion I want to express
Is a painful paradox.
The light-hearted heaviness,
of both gain and loss.

The answer is not zero,
The answer is a cross.
And X marks the spot
Where gain met with loss.

And I found this X marked scar,
Across my crooked chest.
A mark of a dead heart,
Buried beneath my breast.

I did not know
This love was stillborn.
I swear, I didn’t know.
I only saw a bubble surface
And expected true love to grow.

You always knew my fetus heart
Was beatless, pulseless and miniscule.
Forgive me and my convictions,
I wasn’t trying to fool.

I feel both light and heavy.
I feel down and yet relieved.

I now see that my words were empty,
My gestures bland,
I hurt, humiliated and hunted you
Steering all, with my know it all hand.

I’ve been driving down this road alone,
Carrying carrion flesh,
Beneath my bones.

No reason for "if onlys"
But rather a heartfelt adieu,
Your insight was right.
I honestly did not have a clue.
I only said what I believed to be true.
Kelly Oct 2018
If my body is a temple
I built it for you
Let you dwell in every room
And corner cribs of cobwebs
Because with sideways glances I’d swoon

I am all for you

I let you set chests and nests and hang pictures of us from the wood of my ribs
Snapping in northbound hotels
Bottles and swells of love
In upcoming absence
Never a doubt

I slipped and I fell and I didn’t do well for you
I know
I know

But before you gave me air to try
To prove that you and I were something good
No temporary high
You tore the shots from the splintering cage
You had recently laid
With me between

Now my bed is as empty as the halls of my body
This temple is nothing but rubble and sully
You said you would love me
You said you would stay
I patiently rode all the swells of your waves

And I’m sorry

I’m sorry the briars that join at my chest
Weren’t polished or silver
Or quite good enough

for you

I’m sorry you couldn’t make a home in me
I’ll curl to your voice and plead you won’t leave

Forever

If you weren’t us
You’d laugh at us

I wish I could believe it as I careful pried vessels from saved beating security
Reached into my chest
And gave you the very best
Of me

I wish I’d been enough

I wish you would stay

My hollowed out beatless heart
Reeks of decay

Of the chance I took on you
So sure
I was sure
I was sure
I am sure

You’ll come back to me

But I’ve always been good at lying to myself
False hope and future blows seem to
Silence the swells
As my life and my love drains in lines down my face

I never thought loving you meant you would break

Me

I’ll still think of Little girls lying in daffodils
Every lit candle, and egg white whiskey sours
And warmth overcoming
The sleek of your skin
I’ll still feel you running
From The weight of my sins

And I’ll be here in patience and kindness and wait
Even though when You ended me I couldn’t take
It

Please stay

But you’ll leave they all leave I’d said nothing to pay
The price of my toll causes none to delay
I’m sorry my head held shadows in corners
And doubted yourself
When facing my currents

I’d reach out and say I’d be better to you
I’d try with my might, all your mountains, to move

It’s you from the wreckage
The scars
And the war

It’s you who’s stayed standing at the stage of my fronts

I’ve seen you forever like none before
And that’s why, though I cried,
Please still know that our door


Is still open



                                 if you change your mind
Eryri May 2019
My heart, it knew a song or two,
But thanks to you
And your heartless crew
It succumbed and withdrew
And now it beats a beatless beat:
The sing-songs are gone
The melodies muted
No dawn chorus
Or drive time sing-along.
Oh ****, I miss the rush
Of singing my favourite tunes
Thinking my voice was completely in tune
But no,
You took that away from me,
Stole my singing,
Robbed me of rhythm,
Left a shell of an amateur singer
Whose voice is silenced:
Packed in a loveless vault:
Combination unknown.

— The End —