"bleaker" poems
I hear a knock upon my door.
Or was it there inside my head, where only ever dread for the things in life I can't obtain remains; No matter how hard I may in one form or another train?
And so I'll sell a piece of my soul yet again; My price of admission to taste love's glory for but a momentary grin.
With you it was so much different.
My heart is still broke, but my real loss is more than conviction.
I lost my heart, my soul, my vision.
A future bleaker than a demonic prediction.
My mind is racing as I try to relax but thoughts of you come rushing back.
I try to close my eyes to snore but there's always a monster lurking behind memory's door.
And as I recalled I saw my cursed fate,
Always here to be here but never to stay.
I'm airport luggage thrown and lost,
Maybe sought another day.
But I'll still love you through any amount of pain.
I've loved before you but never loved in this way: So full of passion and love for who we both are and could be. I'd marry you now and yet I've never stopped you to say that you're such an invaluable friend, and I'm sorry I can't be okay.
I hate that I'm not only jealous but hurt when I shouldn't feel so deeply burnt by the girl that stole my heart; She's so far beyond my worth.
But she came at night and without a knife she took my heart off it's throne in life, and put it kneeling like she had the key. As if some Divine being that, before we had even met, had my heart beat.
Your love for him is clear even from afar,
And so my heart will beat forever subpar.
So confusing are you truly to me.
The one thing I know is you are the one to whom my soul and heart chose to leave me to be.
Maybe heartless and soul-less should go hand in hand? Ripped from the body by something far greater than man.
Something unknowingly more than human, yet divined by human hands.
Ill be content that while I'm still so broke, She can be healed and her love will help her float: And she can finally forgive herself for the wrongs He wrote.
She'll shoulder the pain and strife of life,
With love beside her every night.
I can be okay but never better,
So I write to myself and you all this letter.
I'm high as a kite,
And just as exposed,
I will never not hear the call of my soul.
Depart away so you can hate me,
And close the chapter of my life called meaning.
I want only for you to be whole.
Regardless of cost, repercussion or role.
My love for you will live until dawn rises untouched by Earth's rock.
Yet ever haunting as a ghost who only ever knocks.
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 9:26 PM UTC
1738
Softened by Time’s consummate plush,
How sleek the woe appears
That threatened childhood’s citadel
And undermined the years.
Bisected now, by bleaker griefs,
We envy the despair
That devastated childhood’s realm,
So easy to repair.
4.3k
If I could simply overcome
Possessive nouns and vowel sounds
I would not need to study ******
Heavy lies’ beheaded crowns
But you make martyrs with your charter
School exclusive service sector
To systemically condemn me
To the destitution nectar
Of the corner story ******
Potential Cinderella caged in
The statistics of the mathematic
Overdose equation
Comatose’n like a Holy Ghost
Of tranquil ranking party skanks
Whose tanks plan out the projects
For the boys still shootin’ blanks
And then the slavers liberate
Some nation-state of god forsaken
Oil barons salivate
To taste the poison Apple’s stake in
Stock in stuffer markets takin’
All the products people makin’
Privatizing profit-docket lawless
Mother Nature rapin’
For some scarcity disparities
In wealth I can’t attain
You keep me feeding on the bottom
From the top, you make it rain
So as the brains continue drainin’
In amenity dependency
I tinker with the inner-machinations
Now the enemy
You’ve made me out to be you see
My generation’s future’s bleaker
Than the past in full HD
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
I'm going to go through with it
This just has to be done
It's all going to stop
Chasing our tail around
For The ****** Dollar
It's all the same in the end
Passionate and proud
At the burst of a cloud
Rain falls in whispers
All today and into the night
When the wild are on the verge
Of some kind of taming
Who cares who you are blaming
How much does it matter that some are unaccountable
Not that you can get away with ****** and wars
When it's time to take your artwork
And put it in a frame
The picture is yours
It's the painter who takes the claim
When it's time to die
What's in it for the stars
Maybe a big wake and
Miles of lined up long electric cars
The mountain's shadow
Keeps the place cool in the summer
Not 'till the volcano spews it's guts
Will you lay down and burn
Or vaporize just in time
It's over with the death of the Star
'What is and was will be bleaker and bleaker
A place you'd turn your head away from
When we have this chance to change into living without borders
What does that mean a shot of the The New World Order
An evocation of imaginations of and for the somewhat rich and the richer
A full and complete Police State, militia walk the street, Their bidding done
No way to travel but by foot
And the odd old bicycle
Horse and mules being bred
To save the soles on your leather boots
All the waters contaminated all the crops hollow not fit for an animal
We go this way or we go that
Who will drag us down or
Who will bring us up
Vibrational influences could save us all
We can't keep trying to tell ourselves that the Government
Has our best interests at heart because they don't
If there is war among the classes it's a way to distract us
But it needs to be done and I'm bringing my 'A' game
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 1:09 PM UTC
1064
To help our Bleaker Parts
Salubrious Hours are given
Which if they do not fir for Earth
Drill silently for Heaven—
2.5k
..............there’s such a clamour
so much choring
memory thread
I sit
armchair
rocking head
receiver of motion
bleaker of putty trauma
creator of mammary craving
.....best take up knitting or wood carving
the fortress of thought
(in strict connivance with a bewildered host)
compiles the 'person idea'
protects the fragile calculator
from biting at its own exposed
and useless self mating psychology
from glutting on its own tail
and merry going mad
in a tune of hoops...
..stammering to achieve valuation
for our decent management
projector
may you continue operations falser still
defeating our own polygraphs and making fools of our internal courtrooms
i sit on this chair
things go still
thoughts occur elsewhere
am i left to not be ?....................
May 11, 2021
May 11, 2021 at 10:00 PM UTC
There are many limitations sometimes. Of course these are only restrictions we place on ourselves, but we groom certain communities to fulfill a certain appearance and dismiss the breakers of unspoken rules. Don't drop the status quo.
Paradigm.
I want to write and not write about things. I don't know.
No, I do know. I want to write without the stigma that these topics bring.
I want to write a poem about Facebook. See how much appreciation that gets.
Poetry about Facebook won't be liked often.
Write about how it ****** me off that your ex boyfriend (that I dumped, by the way) has a new girlfriend with better taste and better photography skills than me. Remember how I made fun of his ex's for that? They're doing that about me now, I stomped on his heart. I teem with insecurity thinking about it. ******* selfish, I feel like a *****
How I'm tired of being self-depricating because I don't want to seem like an ******* I've come a long way as a person and I'm not allowed to brag about it. I'm barely allowed to take a compliment or I'll look like I'm preening.
Write about how I'm tired of being kinda ugly sometimes.
Write about how I had *** with someone, how when I told someone else, I could see them and society drawing a big **** crown of judgement, and how that's ****** I wish we could all grow up.
I wish I could explain that my apathy is, to a certain degree, purposeful. Because looking at feminism articles every day made me feel like **** I felt like a victim constantly, and I alienated myself from making friends with normal people because I was an extremist. I got tired of constant misery and misinformation. The feminist community was cannibalistic too, and I don't think I wanted to make friends with such hyper-aggressive people.
Write about how I want to be a writer and how I can only write three sentences and then I look at the screen hopelessly. How lame.
I'M SO ******* NAIVE BECAUSE
I want so badly to be different in a better way, but I know I'm just the same.
I want to be able to change the world and I know I can't,
it doesn't matter anyway.
I haven't been able to cry in three months. I'm tired of trying to find my brand of catharsis.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
I can see light through the wall,
as it is wearing thin with age.
It makes it even bleaker to exist here.
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 9:25 PM UTC
The more cars on permanent auto-pilot
The bleaker it will get
Don't get me wrong, the positives are definitely there
But let's see the dark side of the moon here
I want to be honest
So don't get too shocked
I can be a little blunt like the dollar store knife
The truth is
If you let this invention exceed far enough
There will be more texting, drunk driving and road head that will occur
The third one usually makes people laugh
But i know it happens
Ask around
You can't say it's a myth
If it wasn't truth, i wouldn't write it down
I promise
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 10:53 PM UTC
Bodies moving in the glass
But, alas, the snow falls
Outside the globe
Who knows?
While inside
This side, like flowing tide
Points and pirouettes
Reflect in shapes like snowflakes
More unique
A picturesque finesse
But bleaker in the light
Than under glow of moon
Because they know
The show
Lacks something from
The airport shelf
Becoming
Something greater than the self
Silent ballerinas dance
Underwater glitter
Fancier than windows taller than the sky
And why
Can't they appear
And here
We disappear
In light among shadows
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 11:24 PM UTC
Two seedlings grow up on the same plot of land
Wonderful black soil, not loose sand
So their roots gripped deep, so tall they could stand
So face to face they grew, each one knowing the other
As they shot up, their love soon bloomed one for another
They so longed to touch and entangle
With their branches they wanted to hold and mingle
And all the way to their roots they wanted to feel the tingle
Their love grew strong, and so did their trunks
They were watered and cared for each day by the monks
And the years slipped by when one final hour
Their branches could touch with a little wind power
A few more years slipped by and they now could embrace
And they were happy they had been planted face to face
They stood for centuries happy and content in their place
Sadly they thought that this bliss would last forever
All life problems they swore to endeavor
They held each other through storms and sunny weather
Until one day his roots grew weaker
With every passing year their situation grew bleaker
One night a storm blew in and their situation was dire
The wind blew him over and lightning set him on fire
She lost some branches trying to hold on to him
She knew deep down to her sap that now her life would be grim
Without him by her side she started to cry
And with every eternal year that crept by
Her limbs no longer reached for the sky but drooped down to the ground
Cuz that is now where his charred remains could be found
She reached for him with every single limb
Her weeping went on each day of the sorrowful years she was filled to the brim
The monks took care of her but they could feel her great sorrow
They prayed everyday that she would stand strong till tomorrow
One day an old monk took a close look at the tree
And decided the pain had changed her so much that her name now is different by decree
So my child when you lay your tired head on your pillow
Remember her and all her seedlings are now the weeping willow
She's there to remind us of the loss of great love
That not even her seedlings could rise above
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 7:19 PM UTC
i used to get this feeling
that the world was really great
i remember playing hopscotch in
the driveway with the
sun shining
like the most
beautiful
thing
a beacon of
light
from god himself
i remember dancing
in the backyard with
the sprinkler on
water
flying
skirt
jumping
neighbors
smiling
i was
happy
i used to climb that one
tree at the
park
i called it
mine
one day they chopped off the branch i
always
sat on
not mine
i wanted to be a
dancer
ballerina
enchantress
mom said
no
not
good enough
not enough
money
do something
practical
i just wanted to create
magic
and touch the
stars
that was when
the sky got
blacker
and
the world got
bleaker
then i looked
at other girls
long
legs
thin
arms
soft
hair
pretty
face
me.
thicklegsfatarmstangedhairuglyface
better
off
dead.
pale skin spiderwebbed
with red
red words
red lines
pink scars
dead eyes
all of a sudden the
world
wasn’t that great
then came
the pills
the
tears
the bed
dead
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
Your profile read "Separated with 3 kids",
Normally I would have run a mile
But you bombarded me with your words and made me smile
The more you talked the more your soft words curled themselves around my heart,
it was not long before, of you I became a part
Once you hooked me in and made me yours
the stories of your woes from your life before begins to out pour
I was your therapist, your lover and your teacher
one year passed and things only began to look bleaker
Anxiety, stress and you being generally depressed
did nothing to relieve the problems already compressed
you promised things of a life and future together
now looking back, that really wasn't clever
I believed you and prayed,
to live with you someday
To grow old and laugh
when in the evening sun we'd bask
Those were childish dreams
and it didn't take long for them to crack at the seams
Why do I call you the Time Thief?
You gave me false belief
Because you made me love you
Then you left me behind in this world with no clue
with what you were about to do
You stole my time, my heart, my soul
over which I now have no control
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
...seemingly routine,
the circumstance at hand
the fire burning books made by my fellow man
burn away his knowledge with the ham-ring of keys,
“burn away his ashes-
do with the riches as we please”
such things are the enticing lies of the world
the same men who lust are the same men who burn
“do unto others as your fellow man”
we’ll do what we want and we’ll wilt at the end…
looking above,
the light changes the tune
and all that was bleak
is bleaker once more,
but truly, vibrancy occurs; downpours
how colors as if drawn by invisible force,
recede, concur, conceit, remorse
valleys plunge into whites, into blacks
“is this the epiphany to break down my back?”
i scream into jars
without reading their state
i know what will come
but it’s only to late
they’ve captured my heart,
away with my fate!
its true, down i fall
but more truer so,
thick vines from the ravine catch me into-
though i come breaking lose
with the weight of the weathering i bear…
i believe in the power of chiefly healing
with nothing but passion within true pain
eyes gleaming astounded as they slowly degrade
like collections of quarters left out in the rain.
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 3:44 PM UTC
I feel bleaker than bleak
More empty than full
More restless than calm
More hopeless than hard
More gutless than strong
More boneless than brave
More pointless than sharp
More faceless than feared
More skinless than naked
More airless than breath
More lifeless than dead
More useless than you
I feel like crying inside.
Won’t someone just do something?
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 11:20 AM UTC
He met a girl called Mary Jane
she made his fears become
either ghostly apparitions
or waking nightmares
he didn't prefer one over the other
he knew that there was no difference
He met this girl
the summer before ninth grade
and she showed him a life
full of unseen wonders
the beauty of apathy and laziness
He didn't need anybody else
only that beautiful girl
she made him good,
made him better,
made him calm,
made him him
Dancing beneath a flickering street light
he soaked in the peace of the world
until it rose above him
a shaking mass of bleak nothing
which at least hid the world
of even bleaker negativity
Mary Jane was a good girl
but he had outgrown her sway
he would miss her
but truthfully,
he also
would not
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 12:32 AM UTC
Heavy clanging of funeral bells greet
newer, bleaker days in the same turmoil.
Men and Women alike run fast to meet
greener grass sprouting out the same black soil.
I cut laugh lines into my pallid face
and throw my head 'neath freight trains each new morn'
I find little solace or change of pace
in carving the page to express my scorn.
My dark fantasies of death and sorrow
plague my night and cast shadow over day.
The other souls are simple, vain and weak
that shuffle on wires with little to say
and no fighting spirit of which to speak.
For each smile, there runs a bitter tear.
Just let me sleep, wake me when Death comes near.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
I thrash around in the undertow
Conveyored out to sea, fully aware I can save myself
By simply standing up
Instead, I stay in the ocean of lies and fuckyous
Struggling to keep my head above water
I like to think of myself as a strong swimmer
Captain of rhyme and reason
But here the waves deliver blows to my head
And the further from shore, the bleaker my future becomes
The safety line is broken, no going back
To the warm beach where we sat, jobless
And you wore my bracelets while the sun gave us life
The sun, who now taunts me from above
This disorienting, fluid prision
Never again will I watch those educated hands
Immerse themselves in the grains of sand overlooking calm water
All I have left is endless blue
And these spongelike lungs soaking it up
My weary muscles relax and I disappear over the horizon
Toward the red sunset
Jun 5, 2010
Jun 5, 2010 at 11:55 PM UTC
You frivolous heart, what bounds you break,
You torturous mind to inflict such an ache,
Have you not learned nor felt the sting of such thought?
That weaves its new pattern, for a new mind to wake.
The wondrous onslaught of untried design to take hold,
As a fresh pair of eyes perceive a new pathway, bold,
Wait, yet you know this world brave and new,
Spoken of, no, lived in a story once told.
Are we creatures of pattern and rigid confines?
Or do we linger, intently, at the edge of hope's hard lines?
Oh ineffable conquest, unfathomable veil,
My courage waning in the shadow of bleaker times.
Though elusive, a way I am able to see,
Its evading nature forcing a strain upon my mind and me,
Am I free to escape this passionless pit?
Relinquish fear and abandon what was once identity?
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 4:20 PM UTC
I wish I could ariculate,
but it has all been written before.
And yet here I am still dreaming of the ineffable, the inexplicable, the as yet udetermined.
Oh to be a cliche,
idealising times of the past
while th present grows bleaker.
Things lack beauty.
The beauy I find in books and films, are lies when it comes to my reality.
And the arduous task of going on feels like a puzzle impossible to solve but one I cannot leave alone.
Things lack beauty,
for me.
Life lacks the luster I have been shown previously existed,
and by romantising the previous, I only pull myself furthe away from the beauty I know must be here.
It must.
Must't it?
However the rare specks of it I find are the ones in her eyes.
And they parade themselves infront of me, knowingly.
But such things have been written before and will be wrote again.
And yet still I wish to articulate.
Oh to be a cliche.
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 6:17 AM UTC
A bleak day
and bleaker still
Rain pocks the pavement
and my windowsill
Come heavy winds tonight
they say
casting eerie shadows
as the trees will sway
The earth will shake
with thunder and doubt
But make no mistake
That's what life is about
Each storm brings the promise
of life and decay
You may die tomorrow
oh, but you're alive today
And when fear holds you
and darkness persists
please remember, my dear
that true love exists
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 12:35 PM UTC
Demons walk this house of mine
They do it at night from time to time
They frighten my guests
And startle my pet's
My cat just sits and stares
My dog her teeth she bears
They just push her aside
She runs and hides
They walk last night again my floors
So I got up and shut the bedroom door
Of course they do what they alway do
My door they pass right through
I tried to ignore them as on my bed I sat
But not tonight they would have none of that
They were there to chat
What do you want, I asked with disgust
They spoke with the tongues of cosmic dust
We are here to watch and savor
Your situation will soon be much graver
Three shadow men in front of me stood
Glowing eyes stared out from under their darkened hood
One pointed at the table, one at the razor, one at my hand
Time it slowed, the hourglass lost it's sand
Then they said, we are here for you our dear friend
My hand started to shake, and then extend
I gave them a determined look
And pulled my hand back although it shook
You can make me cut, you have many times before
I know it's the smell and taste of my blood you adore
You can even make me take my life
They laughed so hard at that, We only want to bring you strife
You silly human child
It's not you blood we desire
Although we do like to watch your blood flow
What we want is the pain to grow
It's just a plus to make you bleed
But it's on your human soul we feed
And your agony makes it all the more sweeter
So your life we make sure it's so much bleaker
I ordered them out of my room
I demanded they take their gloom
They swiftly moved, pinned me down and entered my head
And now I'm wishing that I was not food but dead!
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 11:10 PM UTC
he’s got this look like he doesn’t know how much he’s into them for and the kicker is he’s alone. I’d subtitle him as nervous but it wouldn’t be ample. we’re brothers, 4 years between our bleaker anxieties. he talks with his arms and I see my father at age 32 and my father sees me and winks. brother he knocks the table wood that separates us with both knuckles and tells me he’s gonna need luck in both of these and he shows his open palms. he begins to gag and I **** but he shows me again his palms. I lean back in my chair and pretend I am in a very small space and pretend I am cigarette smoke. I see the oval in his throat and then an egg and then the egg broken on the table. my brother he loses his cool and bites his palms and futilely tries to set the table afire with matches, some light some don’t, no matter. he tells me he usually catches the egg and telling me calms him. still, it’s some trick and I say it. not a trick, he says, but magic. he drowses right there in front of me and my subtitle is **** because I am scared. we go inside to the dog we’re sitting for and I retire to the guestroom where I check the eggs in my bag to make sure they’ve not broken. I go into the bathroom with one of them and say down the hatch. I spend the night on a hard bed and care for my stomach. my stomach and not the egg.
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 9:33 AM UTC
Dark days just got darker
The future now bleaker
Our rights soon weaker
Temperatures up
Sea levels rise with
Judicial surprises:
Rights curtailed
Guns for sale
Executive privilege
Press repressed
Marches now riots
Meaner tweets
Free speech costs
Groups targeted
Families disbanded
Profiling preferred
Embryos policed
Emigration in order?
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 5:10 PM UTC