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Rob Rutledge May 2018
We float on unkown oceans
In boats more made for land.
The sails have ceased to function,
And our boots are laced with sand.
The rudder is unresponsive,
The first mate seems quiet too.
The ship has started leaking,
Weakend wood and stale stew.

The course was never charted,
This was known among the crew.
A passage for the faint of heart,
The bard and the jester too.
These denizens of darkness
Embark with the morning dew.
Depart with mist horizons
To find the start of something new.

For months we sailed
Through winter times,
On waters cold yet still serene.
The memories of warmer climes
Seem like nothing but a dream.
Cannons fire, deckhands scream,
Ship splintered by the sea.
Driftwood caught in ocean's sway
Swept up then cast away.
The Dedpoet Oct 2018
Inventing the day,
Circular possessions,
All I own cannot be touched,

Everything lost in a fire,
Blazing nocturnal,
The slab of marble becomes
A tin marker,

Watching with stillness
As fleshes mesh with time,
     A poet remains:
The spherical elimination
   Casting lights on dark
I find my axis
      I find myself the epitome
And the footsteps
      In the puddles resound
In my minds echoes;
My body is a transparent verse,
        Night unfolds , I
Can see myself again.

      Listen to me as you listen
To the water,
     I am the unhindered thunder,
The shadow in the light's
     Ignorant glow,

      From my footsteps rise the
Steam,
I am still The DedPoet,
    As you sleep in your bed
I invent my new homes:
   Nightly I bocome a
Poem of The Nocturne.
John Stevens Jan 2015
(c) 01-25-15
The cold has come
What once was green , now brown.
The air is cool
Promise of Spring to come.

Boys are gathered
Practice begins
for the games
to see who wins.

The ball is passed
Ball aloft at last.
Through the hoop
the points are cast.

They finesse the ball
as they pass and trick.
To out wit the opponent
as the clock does tick.

They win they lose
this season thus far.
Led by great coaches
has been better than par.

When the games are done
whether lost or won.
It is all in the fun
As they have a great run.
Basketball is upon us. The bleachers are hard but the fun is great.

Has been 6500 reads.
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10-18-19    62,000 times
Who in the world is reading this?

Version called "Baseball"
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1583323/baseball/
Please.
Just answer me.
I only want to help.

I know things are tough,
and I want to help.
I want to make you stronger.

I am worried for you.
You know that, right?

Every night, I worry.
Every night, I hope I can help you
make it to the next day.

I want to help you see that life is worth living,
and that I want to be by your side.

I want to help you overcome
this trouble that has come
and that has tried to ruin
someone beautiful.

That someone is you.
I am concerned.
I only want to help,
yet you cast me away.
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
come if you're thirsty, come if you're stained
come if you're weary, come if you're pained
come to the water, the bread and the blood
come to Christ's soul-saving covenant flood
there's no one too *****, no one too poor
no one too broken whose faith He'll ignore
come if you hear Jesus calling your name
come to be free of all guilt and all shame
come if you're willing to cast out old strife
come lay your burden and take up new life
~~~

"'Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.'"  
~ Matthew 11:28-30

"Jesus answered, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'"  
~ John 4:13-14

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me will never go hungry, and he who believes in Me will never be thirsty.'"  
~ John 6:35

"On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, 'If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.'"
~ John 7:37-38

"'I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in Me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.'"  
~ John 15:5

~~~
Elemenohp Jul 2016
Sometimes written word is not enough,
Maybe it never really has been.

A feverish dark feeling has encased my soul and heart,
Some days it hides, while others it longs for.. something.

I have thus far been unable to tap into it,
Maybe because I am not supposed to
Or maybe because I fear the outcome,
But most likely of all, a combination of the two.
So I hesitate.

The feeling invokes desire
To both create and destroy,
To love and to hate,
To give and to take.

Even if I could, I don't know what I'd do.
I don't know how I'd do it.
Tammy M Darby Oct 2017
I did not curse you with the hand of death
The cloak of gloom
The hand of doom
Instead, I cast my spell upon your heart

Forever entangled in turmoil and strife
An unsettled wanting life
Weakening the beats will cease
****** to seek a love
That does not exist
Nor ever will reveal itself
In the call of the morning or the songs of the night

Vengeance comes in many forms
Lying in wait unsated to be called
It befalls the unaware when least expected
The war between mind and soul
Tormenting endless storms

But take courage and cease trembling
I did not curse you with the hand of death
The cloak of doom
Ghosts of the dark
For I have no pity
I cast my spell upon your failing heart

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Oct. 17, 2017.
A horror movie scene as the heroine escapes.
Everything is still besides her convalescing breath and the distant, chasing wind.
Not a noise is heard except the fall leave's rattle and the birch wood's moaning bark in the moonlight.
Her body slouches into the protection of a lone shed, and shrouds itself in the aroma of cut grass.
A tense brow relieves and tired eyes close, thankful to receive the momentary peace.

A possible misstep turns the wary peace on end with the jagged cut of broken leaves. The once relieved brow now concedes surprise as wild eyes are cast towards an opaque barricade.
Sly pieces of garden equipment leash a weathered jacket in place as she attempts to stand.
A cackle is heard, a shriek undone.
To spite the brittle wood, the formulaic jump-scare-skeleton-hand bursts through the shed's solicitous walls, set to declare the last of a weary soul as his own.
The wind catches up and spearheads any hole it can find.
It begins whistling around the dim room like a tornado elated to havoc behind a castle's walls.
The tree bark howls, the leaves, now delight.
We learn there is no reprieve for a begging champion.
The camera slowly backs out of the splintered hole, and pans over a silhouetted forest to face the waning moon.
The hero succumbs with muted screams to a gore far below and out of frame.

Our only closure, a black screen, with bright white letters, slowly scrolling up.


The end.
Just something I had fun writing, figured not posting it would be a waste despite it not being "poetry", just an experiment I guess. I feel like it would be good, in like, a high-school, short story competition. *****.
Amoy Sep 2018
There is a storm outside
The windows blew in
The roof is lifting
The foundation is shaking
Inside I sit wondering will I make it
Down comes the roof, it was carried away by the wind
The glass from the windows has shattered
The rain is blowing in
Inside I sit wondering will I make it
The foundation cracks, I can feel it shaking
Inside I sit wondering will I make it
Down comes all the walls
It all fall down around me, everything every last drop
Still I sit wondering will I make it
I have shed my last tear and cried my last cry
But still inside I sit wondering will I make it
M Solav Sep 2018
There are clouds of sound and noise
That utter thoughts in a muffled voice,
Gestures of hands simply won’t cast out
Cloudy skies in days of doubt.

Like strangers lost in a crowd
Whose cries are buried by the loud,
The loud din of helpless wanderers
Whose presence disrupts and disturbs.

All strangers left on their own,
Islands floating out in the fog;
Orphans with cruel fates to bemoan;
Fates that are swept under the rug.

And who's looking with interest, who reaches down with an arm,
Never so eager to help, neither too late nor too soon?
Who would make this world perhaps a little more warm
And freshen the skies of our cloudy afternoon?
Written in December 2017.
She sits rather still, stitching her loom
shackled and bound to the whispering room
While the walls shutter speeches
she slouches then reaches,
her stitching resumed.

Threads of silk pool in spools
cast to the floor
Hushing the voices
as they pour

the voices repeat their crippling phrase
dancing the space
bound to their maze
Not sure. I've been editing it for awhile and I give up.
Hunter Taylor Feb 13
Cast me out
Into the sea
Forget everything
That I used to be
I tried to forget
I tried to forgive
But I lost myself
Trying to live
Cast me out
In the stones of death
Forget I ever
Held a breath
Blame me now
For my father's sins
I tried to be better
I really did
But the past is now
Its come again
Too late for apologies
I'll never win
My mind has made
A choice, not mine
The end is to come
Only with time
You may not see
Before it's too late
The moment is now
For you to take
There is
so much
restlessness
inside
of me,

This feeling
crawls
up
my spine
&
screams away
at me.

I'd rather
feel pain
than
the aftermath
numbness

Atleast
with the
pain
there is
still
hope in
who I am

God,
pain I
can fight
But I'm
afraid

The cold
has a
heavy
toll on
me.

It's like
being
lost
in a
snowstorm,
while
pressured
not to
freeze.

Well
If you
are a
dreamer,
I suggest
you'd
better
stay away
from me.

My heart
is cast to
stone
&
I'm
way better
on
my
own.

-☾ α вяσкєи ∂яєαмєя
#broken #cold #emotionless #poetry #follow #like
Inside out May 2014
Nosey people annoy me
Pompous people bore me,
Pretentious people irritate me
Whilst drunk people irrigate me.
Opinionated people grate me,
Cheating people forsake me.
Sly people irk me
Lazy people shirk me.
Judgemental people cast me,
Bigoted people blast me.
Most people avoid me!
We all judge each other
ThePoet Dec 2016
I'm running out of time
And the clock is ticking fast
But I'm trying to erase
All the damage in my past

I'm running out of time
And these minutes never last
But the darkness that I face
Is the shadow that I cast
Alyssa Underwood Dec 2015
When all of worldly beauty's lost
When form and face have borne the cost
Of life's sojourn upon this earth
A greater glory then springs forth

When vanity is cast aside
With long-dashed dreams and fallen pride
At last a better hope I see
One anchored in eternity

When no one gives a second glance
Or offers promise of romance
I know the One whose love is true
Who looks beyond what most men do

When wit and charm have fled from thought
And company's no longer sought
There's still One friend who longs to hear
My every word, desire and fear

When awkwardness is more the rule
Than competence and being cool
His words I hear so gently spoken,
"Come, poor in spirit and all who are broken."

When those around me criticize
With disapproval in their eyes
He spreads His arms with full embrace
And wears acceptance on His face

When kindred spirit can't be found
And understanding's wayward bound
The One who knows me best will be
Thinking precious thoughts toward me

When foot is slipping, mind astray
From trying to fix things my own way
He rescues me with hourly grace
And sets me in a spacious place

When all my naught attempts at fame
Lie crushed beneath a weight of shame
I seek the fame of Him instead
Who calls my name and lifts my head

When youth and vigor fade away
And triumph seems an ancient day
My strength can rest in One who brings
Fresh power to soar on eagle's wings

When my last breath some day I take
Death's shadowed crossing, hence, to make
Upon Christ's nail-scarred feet I'll fall
To kiss that One who is my ALL
"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary,
but what is unseen is eternal."
2 Corinthians 4:16-18

~~~

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtzAciGlgKE&spfreload=5
Deceive me
Lie to me
**** with my head

On the edge of the cliff
Then you pull me to bed

Your love is a drug
*** with you gets me high
I’m a full blown ******
Makes no sense; don’t know why

You're an ever present torment
The fission laser splitting my mind
A jig-saw puzzle that was completed
Slowly each piece from each piece you unbind

Seductively you tear me down
Like the clothing you disrobe
A deer staring into headlights
I am frozen on the road

The weight of the world bearing down on me
As those focused beams get closer
Gladly I welcome them
Even though I’m not supposed to

Every rational thought I have
tells me how wrong you are for me
But they are drowned and muffled out
No more thoughts; keep your pennies

No sensible way to explain
Why I ******* love you so much
You’re a psychotic crazy *****
that I don’t want anyone else to touch
A blowtorch ignites a flame
A fire fierce and burning bright
Even though I know it will burn me
With all my gathered strength and might

All it takes from you is that look
You cast that Vampire’s gaze and grin
Instantaneously my defenses lowered
and you know you’ve ****** me in
Immerse myself into the flame
Intense pain; you melt my skin
Until pain I feel no more
I’m enveloped in your sin

And like a ****** choosing dope
Everyday, your sin I’ll take
I will gladly sell my soul
The most egregious of mistakes

A preying succubus appears
like a dreamy demoness
A world of dreams are turned to nightmares
Fills her needs for human flesh
Written: February 19, 2018

All rights reserved.
Shannon Soeganda Nov 2018
Embittered.
Worn out.

The soul yearns for its long lost counterpart,
only to find itself undulating
on the waves of uncertainty.

The soul has had enough.
Jon Thenes Jun 13
you pulled into this world
slug-like
muscled through passage
passed
reforming your credible state
in front of the health team
and in view of myself
taking your cast
you cried out
about the new conditions
gull to life
gull toward a name
and gull toward embrace-ment
in this fight
in this criers feeding ground
accounted be
a token of force
a token of soul
and a token for ward
in this great mimicry
Dlusionl13 Jun 2018
You are a powerful wizard
While I am a mere mage
Spellbound by your eyes
I am trapped in your cage

I am being held captive
In the beauty of your mystical mind
Lost in the spells of your charm
My spirit I am unable to find

Cursed I am by your magic
Wandering in the depths of the
darkness
Maybe yours maybe mine
Whose it is I cannot determine

Entangled is my fate
In the strings of your destiny
You are the healer of my thoughts
Saving me from my agony

Bewitched is my heart
Breaking by the spells you cast
Caged in the colours you hide
I am being punished by my past

Enchanted by you I am
The one reviled by all
But I see through your masks
You are drowning in your pain's rainfall

Enticed are our souls by each other
I hope this is not an another treachery
Because love for me
Was always a wicked sorcery
Ashley Chapman Jul 2018
Pressesd tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.

Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt; 
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!

As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but of us
I have already masturbated twice:
jammed,
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace
- it's hot -
where glued we **** into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other.
My mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.

When I awake,
I am lying next to you,  
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed.
You,
murmuring desire for me.
****!
I can't wait to answer.

It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
(the oiled bulb at the end of a finger),
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that stretches with pointed elegance);
as quietly inside,  
(warmly enveloped),
my couched *****,  
rocks us:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.

Lust and love,
closing-in,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
days,
hours;
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,  
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.

And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to penetrate your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tenderness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.

Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful elongated face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.

I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.

You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
Come!
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay naked to me,
flesh,
sinews,
everything,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ******* over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain ***** on the rocks below.

To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we ****,
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
- the maiden and the bull -
we consume ourselves.

There,
Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
lusting after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting;
my arousal in your palm,
pops,
as you run a curved finger over my nethers.

Lying,
lying,
side-by-side,
lying prone,
lying ******,
never unconsumed,
because,
please,
please us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
Oh,
God,
throw the ******* comic at me,
will you?
Beat my ******* flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your pearly naked glory!

And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a ******* puppy!
Beautiful
long-haired,
skin tight,
upright,
wise,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my **** into your **** -
where I love it best.
MJL Feb 15
Do what they do
Fight the ***** fight
Do it
Take from them
Lie to them
Wage war
For their righteous greed controls
They have morals
Hold you down in the name of God
Fear them
Patriate them
Oppress them
Malcolmize the pain
Invert the rain
Watch it flow back up
Up into the clouds
Crack on them
Break on them
Break all that is around
Let the sun shine through
Let - the - sun - shine - through
Move all that stand in your way
Move all that cast that silky shadow
Your freedom lives
Let the sun shine through
Follow the sacred Caucasus Mountain Pass
Do what they do
Feel YOUR right to the sun
Taste YOUR seasoned blood
Wash away YOUR black party soot
Feel the warmth of YOUR timeless King
As you fall from grace
As you fall from pain
Leave love behind to be burned
Flinching with the memory of the RIGHTEOUS
You rise up
Free at last
Rumble in YOUR jungle
Tasting the drops
Those delicate drops...
Of Freedom Rain


© 2019 MJL
The fight for freedom starts with you.
CK Baker May 2017
like that pill bitter Sunday morning (after)
with a nauseating hack
the previously uneventful Tuesday
derailed
in surrealistic tale
with Auntie and Jack (and a quarter of fate)
in the 748
on a night flight
from Sherwood to Lore

reverberating waves
of imminent summer haze
river flats
and flower fields
fly weights
and silver bait
shredders and shysters
and open gates
(into those everlasting
and sweated journeys of hope)

bloods and strays
and florentine grays
(reminiscent of Rockwell fame)
running horses
and overgrown country lanes
morning grace
and gentle cheer
eyes clear
on the river pass
blunted paddles for those ancient
and not so willing suckers!


duke making his own way
(to the corner club)
Parsons and Poe
stream from the torn screen door
cricket cadence
and symphony of the Deere
calm and deliberate
in the soft
and silent fields

meadows open for grazing
(guineas scamper across the till)
pocket apples fill
the country ripe air
drunken bees
and chestnuts
and electric fingers
strike the surface pool
(a cedar strip wedged on the white wash dock)

baited bull heads set to cast
evenings with hearts
and Nolten Nash
may flowers bloom
across the grass
~ time unmatched ~
with blue jays
and river bends
and channel cats
...and that warm
and recurring
Coleman drift
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
It is not the nature of things or people to satisfy us
but rather to awaken in us the desire to be satisfied.
When we seek our hearts' pleasures in temporal affairs
our joy easily fades for only delight in the Eternal
cannot be tarnished, broken, stolen or lost.

If we fail to learn the secrets of uncovering joy in loss
then we risk being driven to despair or bitterness or insanity
in this world which is so full of sorrow.

For all of this Earth’s wonder and beauty and blessings
it's only meant to serve as a great cosmic magnet pulling us to our Source.
One true glimpse of Him would cause us to never cast another glance
at any created thing and think it might satisfy.

Lord Jesus, give us eyes to see that You Yourself and You alone
are the bread and water which our souls so desperately crave.
Teach us to hungrily partake from Your own hand, O God.
May every scent and song, every shadow and sorrow
only call us closer to You.
~~~
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