"bleading" poems
If it would have happened
with anybody else
my feelings would be dusty
the top side of the shelf
but emotions run through
from the day I met you
and I tried to escape
but the song
no matter how hard I tried to stop it
it played
feelings grew stronger
and I kept getting played
in my head
everything going so fast
like I'm at a rave
if I could go back
I would never trade
I would make it okay
I would be more patient
I'd always let you leave
I'd be more sweet
yet firm in what I believe
I want it to go
but I want it to stay
I want you to stay
I want you to lay here with me
where are you going
why am I leaving
who is this coward inside
and why is he screaming
love is the worst
I'm crying and pleading
please stop the bleading
why are you leaving
why can't we talk and reminisce
why aren't you listening
am I too controlling
my heart done got stolen
but you gave it back
with nowhere to stash
it's in my hand and it's beating
how dare you deceive me
I hope you see me on TV
and I'll scream your name
I'll be so angry out in the street
I'll scream and I'll scream
about what you did to me
but you're too busy reading
and it's quiet this evening
he's on his way over
and in the morning he's not leaving
I'm screaming
I'm screaming
like a psychopath in a boiling hot bath
that's steaming
I better start breathing
and you better keep living
no matter how bad it was
or how much I wished
I still am forgiving
all this anger is fleeting
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 1:35 PM UTC
Forever moving
never ceasing
Forever seeking
can't find it
Searching, hoping, pleading, bleading, crying
Black and bruised
On my knees
Head up high
Prayers unheard
Forever believing, never stopped hoping
Forever running, breath seeking
Legs numb
Heart pounding
Warm blood rushing through my cold body
Eyes wide awake
Something inside of me, kicking, screaming, pleading, bleading, crying
Forever moving
never ceasing
Forever seeking
can't find it
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 12:14 PM UTC
You don't know it
but the things you tell me, cuts my Heart
It's bleading, the blood is dripping.
Drip, drip, drip
I try to defend myself
but you won't listen, standing there with deaf Ears
No sound to be heard, only a moving mouth.
Silence, silence, silence
I try to run,
but you keep pushing me down, my Feet are stuck to the ground
I'm forced to listen, I cannot move.
Stuck, stuck, stuck
I try to focus,
but my mind is detonating, the Words are crushing against my skull
They keep coming, hitting me like a ton of bricks.
Pound, pound, pound
The rage inside of me - I cannot handle it.
Please won't you listen?
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
To the great brothers and great sisters of Her womb
To the great Mother and great Father, shifting through and through
Calling upon them for the great wisdom of our age
To bridge the gap between science and the sacred
This land has no boundaries, all conventions are made believe
and we are made to believe that politicians have our backs
while the preasts of a false language preach hypocracy to our faces
This is not our Shangrala, we have lost our grasp of Eden
Turning our garden into a guard, lost, we have turned a paradise
to a prison; old men casting aspersions of disrespect to a newborn,
blaming a victim of an obsolete tradition, casting salt onto the soil,
and calling it a blessing.
The prophets throughout the ages have seen a brighter world,
one that had, at its core, the truth; we are all one spirit, inhabiting these many forms.
This illusion of form and distance, made to be overcome, has illuded many, but not them;
They gave us the wisdom to escape the eternal womb of the mind,
and grow gracefully in the warmth of the Father Sun.
Trained to be beaten and broken, our new prophets have been beld and misled.
We call this machine, cold and calculating, Education; beaten and broken from the inside, our prophets are internally bleading: rose red ink on term papers with F wrote large!
**** you! The first words of resistance cries. I am my own authority,
I seek the truth, not your lies!
Tearing down the walls, and begining to tell a new story, we new prophets challenge "the way things are," because nothing is certain;
Our conscious evolution transcends to the stars, and starts in the grasses slowly showing their infinite patience and strangth, like a soft blade breaking the solid ground of traditions floor.
Be the evolution, brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, be the change, and the change becomes you!
Agape and Appreciation
~M
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
We were beaten,
we were bleading,
we were greaving,
we hit the ground.
Now we feel this sparkle,
this small sparkle of light
dancing deep inside of us,
raising our hope.
We stand on our feet again,
we wipe away our tears.
The moon cures our wounds,
the stars let us dream again.
Our inner light shines bright,
leading us through our pain.
Surrounded by mystery
we step out of the dark mist.
We're not afraid anymore,
we've already seen the darkness.
We're covered in scars
but they make us proud.
We spread our black wings,
and take ourselves into the air.
We're slowly circling higher,
this is the rise of the fallen.
Jul 19, 2019
Jul 19, 2019 at 3:42 PM UTC