Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Roman Pavel Jan 2015
In the deathly silence of the calm, I feel the clamming of my palms
As I lay awake in the dead of night, so often as I’ve done before
One thought echoes out, as I begin to be filled with doubt
How these feeling come about, about someone lingering past my door
But, I know I’m all alone and no one stands outside my door
Just my imagination, and nothing more

From the dead of night, a sound pierces ever slight
My ears perk up and my mind begins to explore
Where the faint noise comes from, while my body lays numb
In the darkness of the slum, this hum I can’t ignore
A heed or warning, resonating past my enclosed door
The sound rings out “Falling For”

Who is this trickster, trader, inside my home, a dangerous invader?
Calling out to me from beyond my hardwood floor
In the dead of night, amidst four walls void of light
If I scream, will foreign ears here my plight? Or will I be no more?
Has my time come to pass for all the wrongs I must answer for?
As the whisper calls out “Falling For”

My thoughts begin to carry, how I should be more wary
Am I being tricked? True meaning behind this “Falling For”
This devilish trickster, whether Ma’am or a Mister
Swindled me in a twister, my wealth and name I can’t restore
Unaware of this chaos looming, the loosing of the war
Is this what I’m “Falling For”

Or maybe love, my damsel calling, perhaps my heart is what’s falling
To the one that I so eagerly adore
Thoughts of grandeur fill my head, for a prospect to join my bed
Where stars and sky, the mind has read, finally the weary sailor arrives ashore
Greeted by his enduring spouse to whom long ago he swore.
That she, and only her was the one he’d Fallen For

In the dead of night my mind still racing, for the sound my ears still chasing
The whisper ever so slight of “Falling For”
Kept me up all night and going crazy, my thoughts once clear now are hazy
In the deafening silence, my body lazy, to venture out past my enclosed door
I struggled battling for the meaning my mind telling me folks of lore
Of this destined fate of “Falling For”


In the dead of night, rang out a murmur, ever so slight, the noise got firmer
Beyond the walls outside the enclosed door
Down the hall in another room, a forgotten token within a tomb
Where the noise began to resume, a music box within a drawer
Broken saying the same two words kept replaying,  “Falling For”
For it was this, and nothing more
One of my favorite poets is Edgar Allen Poe, this is an homage to his work the raven, of a paranoid man kept up all night by his own imagination
Hilldene Jan 2017
The glare of morning off crystalline shells
Suits wove endlessly from lobby to desk.
Minute hand towers over 8:45
Pungent smells of black coffee,
Stale air perspiration absorbed by sterile tiles,
Downtown, Jersey, Brooklyn gleam
as the crescent copper sun continues
Lady Liberty smiles.
8:46
Before you knew the ground beneath you
shattered.
A blanket of black invaded the poorly ventilated
rooms.
Panic took over the buried primal instincts.
Another statistic, another number on the ledger
that will never balance.


About to open a folder piled upon the rest.
In a flash all shook with momentous force.
Screams echoed in fear of the unknown,
Chilling how quickly the room became dark,
The blue sky faded behind an unbreakable
wall
Unable to move pressed up against the cold
Glass
An attempt to escape the unforeseeable
Events
My head was pounding and breaths became
Forced
Break the window, just break the window
For God's’ sake we need air.
Ravenous orange had broken through the floor
And the four walls.
Upon contact the glass broke - air flooded in.
We hung out of the windows, gulps of air.
Make a decision, hope for pure intervention, a
Safety net.


1,2,3,jump…
Light as a feather when you leap from the 94th
Floor window.
Escaping the smothering black cloud from within.
Close your eyes, breathe, in and out.
What thoughts were going through your head?
Were you hoping for a miracle angel.
A tumbling image stuck on replay.
Your death captured in history.
You had to jump.
It was a very public way of dying.
Onlookers witnessed the whole ten-second journey.
Death was your only option: swallowed by
Painful singing flames or
A courageous end to your life.
Evil that day determined fire would seal your fate.
In a last attempt you fought back and cheated
Death’s cruelty.


Stuck at the window frame fixated on salvation.
There’s no other way, the heat is too hard to face.
Just step out, let go.
Fly through the clouds.
Hands clenched by my side my ears still ringing.
I breathe in a heavy breath, felt the air filling my lungs.
Sorrowed breaths.
Debris to chaos.
Ash to souls.
In midst of death it was serene.
Closed my eyes and let go.
The way i flew would’ve made my parents proud,
For that day the only thing that saved me was the
Camera that caught my body in suspense.
By a stranger in the crowd.
Lottie Jan 2016
The never ending inferno of chaos
And heat.
That we need to survive and thrive.
There are fires within us, combustion
And flames
To fill the hollow, to bring us warmth.
Beth Bayliss Jun 2019
by 14, the boy had realised that
home is not a sanctuary
that nothing comes for free
and that some fathers don't know how to love

by 16, he had decided that
even if answers couldn't be found
at the bottom of a bottle
he was **** well going to look there anyway

at 18, he was free;
his life was his own.
now he just had to work out what that meant.

and at 21 he realised that
his life was a little girl
with freckles on her face and stars in her eyes
who picked him flowers to make him smile
and made the chaos of his life a little busier.

she saved that prince
from the dragons
from the fire
and perhaps
from himself.
for b.c. - it will get better with time.
Alysha L Scott Oct 2014
They say the world will end in peaceful chaos,
and nonsense will reign
all because of one split earlobe.
And in all anxiety of separateness,
there is, and will be found, something,
someone subdued.
A vague calm, awaiting the fury
when all is cold, lingering by the light
with four screeching magpies
talk, talk, talk.
A noisy chatter
that somehow is subdued-- Not subdued!
But fades away
into a constant hum
of static.
And that is the answer, always received.

The last word.  
"I have won!" They will say.
And to be conquered, oh, to be
something subdued.

And one morning, you will rise,
drowning in an ocean of light, always
reminding you
of  that daunting, waking presence
of degradation and evolution--
of the devils squawking from shoulder to shoulder,
fighting for a constant ear, pierced by all that noise--
That was always you.

They don't exist, but the boredom of living,
and the tedium of anxiety over one
healed earlobe, still split, of course, does.
But all is well.
It doesn't need to be apathy, this spinning
contradiction of existence and thought:

We need answers for everything,
so we make them, and we find them.
Never there,
and yet, always there too.
They say everything can be broken down
into smaller pieces and that makes for easy examination.
Easy observation.
They say everything exists at once, times one-thousand,
maybe more, neither here nor there.
Something simultaneous, someone everywhere.
The omnipotent mind, twisting himself
in and around, infinitely and  constantly,
and that makes all the difference.

It is meaningless.  And what will you do with all these
actions of resurrected futility?
Create a codependency, no doubt, on the magic of science and the ease
of technological advancements.  Continuing this evasive circle of modern life
and meaningless distraction-- Who can afford to live
and who cannot?
Surely, there is no winner.

We all get to the same place in the end, and knowledge,
unlike currency, through meaningless chatter,
may perhaps outlive you.
"Furthermore, you say, science will teach... that whatever man does he does not of his own volition, but by the laws of nature.

Consequently, these laws of nature have only to be discovered... worked out, mathematically, like a table of logarithms... in which everything will be so accurately calculated and plotted that there will no longer be any individual deeds or adventures left in the world.

In short, the Golden Age will come again.  Of course it is quite impossible to guarantee that it won't be terribly boring, but on the other hand everything will be eminently sensible.  Of course, boredom leads to every possible kind of ingenuity.  After all, it is out of boredom that golden pins get stuck into people... What is bad is that for all I know, people may find pleasure even in golden pins."

-"Notes From Underground" Dostoevsky
Corina May 2015
Down the hill
near the sea
Is a place
you'd have to see

Happiness
was ours each summer
me and my sister
and our sweet mother

The best times
were always there
but now memories are spoiled
it doesn't seem fair

When I close my eyes
I rewitness a terrible thing
it was a normal day
I was sitting on a swing

But then the war came
the bombings, destruction and defeat
There was so much chaos
I just remember dead bodies and heat

My sister was lying
to safe her own life
And then she had to leave me
become some soldiers wife

It was me left in rubble
Traumatised and lonely
Seen most terrible things
needed someone to hug me

And then a hand
suddenly grabbed mine
It was my dear mother
but she didn't look fine

A part of her skull
was blown away
She was dying in seconds
but had something to say

She was trying
but no words came to surface
She shed her last tear
we were both worthless

I was alone now
and didn't know what to do
no house and no mother
nothing to stick to

I left the little
house down the hill
And now thinking of my dreamhouse
makes me feel cold and ill
Regan Troop Mar 2013
Another handful stuffing stresses down my core hoping their buried seeds won't grow to cause chaos in my mind's bright and warm sky of daydreams for the dark and cold clouds will destroy the view of a beautiful place.
SS Apr 2016
your promises meant nothing to you,

but i let them mean everything to me.

& now you're gone

away with my heart,

leaving behind chaos
                           confusion

                           & leaving me behind

now nothing more than a shell

of the human i once used to be
Oh this beautiful life we live,
Where no one wants to give.
We take and take until we have no space,
No longer time for face to face.

What has the world become?
We dance to the beat of our own off beat drum.
We hide behind glass and mirrors,
With the opportunity to hide our fears.  

When did we get so blind?
The most beautiful thing is expressing your mind.  
Our eyes were given to see the truth,
Yet we have been lied to all of our youth.
Our mouths were meant to spread joy,
Yet we use words like a used up toy.  

How did we get so dumb?
Its as if our minds are dull and numb.  
We feed it with decietful stories.  
Ones that do not end in humanly glories.  
We obsess over the negative companents,
And leave no room for glorious moments.  

Who decided for us to become this way?
We are being strung along day to day
With no one to blame but ourselves.  
Weve put intuition and instinct on the lowest shelves.
We can now decide to excell,
No more hiding in a hollow shell.
We need to bring as much love as possible,
A love that is not tossable.

Where do we start?
We go before society fell apart.
But that moment in history has yet to exsist.  
We are the generation that the Earth has missed.  
We can finally be the first to bring unity,
Even though the world is about destroying community.  
We are the ones that need to rise above the chaos,
No one can stop us.  

Why should we care at all?
Because in our hearts is a call.
A call to be the ones who do not discriminate race or social standing.  
A generation where there is no branding.  
A human race, that finally understands what it means to be human.
There is nothing more to it.
#bethechange #loveeveryone #equality #newearth
Haruharu Sep 2017
My mind is empty, passive, yet filled with chaos from the past.

Afraid to feel again, to give in.

Scared this is another trap.

What can I give him that no one else can? Why me?

Is there another hidden agenda?

I can't resist his words, yet they scare me to death.

It's like a love song I wanna play on repeat,
but still wishing that the record would break.

Before I do.
I’m losing my mind in this cold world,
for I lost all my blow in the snow,
so I went to Jupiter to meet with Jesus.
He told me I should go and find Zeus,
I told him that I already found him.
The look of befuddlement on his face
blended in with His beard.
I took a break to ring around the rosy,
half an hour later I had a **** nosebleed.

Everything out in space is chaotic
Where curiosity doesn’t constitute
craziness… Wait, does it?
I don’t know, my mind is racing against time.
Just as smoke dissipates out of fire,
You can’t put the pieces of Pandora’s
box back together.

Chaos and disorder came only after
the Big Bang.
But, what happens to all of us when
we stop expanding?
This everlasting expansion turns to a
controlled compression,
and we will no longer be in control
of ourselves.

We will no longer ponder the fate of
what is unknown,
but fear the fate of what we do know.
We will no longer seek to discover
what is hidden,
but settle with everything we do know
and become complacent.

While I do know I do not know
everything there is to know,
I will not float through space
without landing upon a star.
"Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?" -Mark Twain
Geno Cattouse Sep 2014
My father speaks to me daily.
In my infancy as a dream my childhood a sigh my youth rustling leaf.
He walks a path unknown to me yet and still.
In my boyhood a whisper.

A grumbling prophet in my youth a subtle **** in my rutting time. A cautionary tale in my wanderings, my father.

My father took residence in my mirror in my wisdom took a stand in my slight declining. Took Pitty in my questing.

He stands at my back in chaos by my side in victory
By my manhood by my word.
He is
Here now and always.
Tony Feb 2021
Forgive the night
And it's scattered ashes
It's morbid children
Casting lots for the
Bruised garments of a
Reluctant martyr
Satyrs and shaman
Sages and madmen
Derelict casinos
And broken boulevards.

Forgive the night
Fearless and feral
The desolate moon betrothed
To truant stars
That forgot to shine
And unanswered prayers
That forgot to die
Brooding orchids nodding
Towards an unresponsive sky.

Forgive the night
It's tapestry of shadows
It's soliloquy of loss and longing
It's conspiracies of silence
It's unrelenting chaos

Forgive the night
It's gospels of oblivion
It's prose written in curdled moonlight.

Forgive the night
It's orphans of Cain
Wandering, forever wandering
In kingdoms of perpetual obscurity
Carrying their mark proudly
As a ruthless crown.

This is the way of things here.
No one Mar 2020
There were galaxies in his eyes

where creatures sat, watching the destruction

There were roses melted in his lips

and their thorns grew on his tongue

There were stars scattered on his cheeks

So bright, that they blinded him

There were pearls in his teeth,

with blood dripping where he took a bite 

There was a song in his soul

but he sold it to the devil
soft Apr 2019
A girl who was familiar with bruises,
shouting and harsh words no longer made her ears ring.
An elementary school girl who learned what it meant when her parents were too drowsy to speak,
borrowing money meant she’d never see it again.
A teenager who knew that her family would not change,
promises were never certain and lies would always be.
A young adult who now continued the abuse on herself,
pain was a constant and always self inflicted.
Can she be blamed for how she was taught to love?
Can you hold her accountable for the ways she learned to protect herself?
Johnny Noiπ Jun 2018
for thousands of [       ] Millennia;
since the first    clouds   parted - I
don't imagine  the idea of   [girls]
even existed     until       someone
thought it was  a good idea to lay
w/ them - firstly, it was dark
as starlight was the        only light
at night & the sheen off the
sweaty haunches         brought the
men & boys out of their     holes
attracted by the pungent   aroma
from the female holes &  bodies
Lucy Tonic Apr 2015
It was the longest of days
It was the shortest...
Spring is blazing dull
A fire pit of icicles
Brutal suggestion in the day
Gentle persuasion under the moon
Crippling voices turn to static
As bodies melt in heat
As bodies melt in sleep
Spin the hands on the clock
Like you spin the bottle
Smash it on the floor
As you blow a kiss to Saturn
Avoiding your reflection as you
Walk upon the shards of daggers
Just like you ignored her mouth
While kissing her lips of poison
Never changing with the seasons
Just adapting to the temperature
Of a soul the color of chaos
Of a heart with no price tag but massive debt
Laying out bread crumbs
With words as your bait
Like a senile, crooked tree
Trying to divorce its fate
Jimmy Thatcher Jan 2016
I woke up to the sound of nothing
The stillness I forgot amidst the chaos of work
I woke up wanting to do something
But all I could think of was work

What did I even do for fun?
A cup of tea? Smoke some ****?
Those were the wrong thoughts
That was all for stress relief

Now I'm squeezing stress from nothing
An empty room an empty phone
It was my day off
And I had nothing to do

Time was running out
And my day off became another off day.
I just don't remember who I use to be...how is that even possible?
pin Oct 2015
Was upon the stages of manifestation
she said it by accident at least in her personality
cannot yet find methods of balancing chaos magic
a newbie had quick to birth
so felt the pains of a mother
incubation in the cellar confines
amongst the spider webs with fifth to seek higher parents
He looks like me
he speaks like me
he tried like me
in some ways hes beyond me
He heals my heart
AavelinaJaden Jun 2014
People have always told me my eyes turn grey like the stormy skies.
Like the weathers chaos is being reflected in my very eyes.
My tears are the raindrops, when the cloud cries.

Maybe I should keep my head down on the ground.
Maybe my emotions will be more sound.
Maybe when the sun in shining my soul will be found.

Until then I'll remain sad
But I guess the rain isnt so bad
I mean mother nature could always be mad.
Morgan Vivian May 2013
You dip your toes into this glass still pond
so steadily, and yet I know your heart is racing.
I see the flicker of panic in your eyes, and the
tugging desire you have to jump in.
I see it there in the strain of your well formed muscles
and the quick rise and fall of your chest.
It's so quiet here, isn't it?
In this wet mirror where you see such a peaceful vision
of the way things are, and you don't want to
stir and ripple, to see what will be.
I know your kind, and I know the way you fear
and the way you consume.
You will eat up this stillness until chaos blooms
from these reeds and crickets and warm scents.
You want the summer I hold,
it lives in the way I kiss and hold and smile.
Come here and sit by me.
Hold my hand and listen to the sun sing on your skin
and feel the warm breezes on your face.
Everything will be alright.
Just stay.
AmberLynne Feb 2015
It's a bad habit I've picked up,
that when I start getting confused
about life I panic, want to run.
You see, it just seems infinitely
easier to leave it all behind,
let the chaos remain while I go
                                                              ­           somewhere
unknown and begin anew.
I've seen it time and again,
bore witness to the pattern
as my mom loaded us up and fled.
As a child I hated being forced
to pick up my entire life to go
                                                                ­            along
for a ride I never wanted.
As an adult though, I understand,
more completely than I would ever
have thought possible. And now
is one of those pivotal times
I'm stuck contemplating
                                                                ­           the way
out of the mess I've created.
I know the routine all too well:
sell all, keep only what fits
in the back of the car. All else
is extraneous, replaceable.
Drive without purpose until
                                                                ­           I've lost
all semblance of an endpoint.
Where I end up is where I go.
Some try to tell me that this
method of coping is unhealthy,
but how can I fight its allure?
When my mind becomes madness
and I can't figure my life out,
what's a better solution than
running, flight over fight,
no one to complicate things, only
                                                                ­            myself.
2.1.15
RLF RN Oct 2015
I’ve been staring at
my room’s wall clock
for almost the entire day.
Funny how it seems that
the only actual thing it does
is to tic-tac all the time.
And as it works,
it made me realize and notice
what time is it as its hands
move little by little,
pointing at the numbers printed onto it.

As I watch the second hand,
I can’t help but to feel sentimental,
knowing that for every second it counts
I am still here—all alone,
feeling this excruciating pain and
sorrowfully mourning about the mere fact—
facing the reality that my heart is ****! broken
over again by the same man
who used to broke my heart
for a thousand times..
and that man— that I love the most
is slipping past my way for every tic-tac
it does as it grows into days.

I am pretty much aware
that after a 24-hours of tic-tacing,
it would finally be TOMORROW.
Tomorrow is the day
I always feared of, for
I don’t know if I would want
to wake up on that day because
little did I know I would have to face it
by myself again, and to watch the whole day
to pass that something or someone good
might come and might exist.

For everyday that counts,
there’s never a second that I didn’t wished
for a moment that could help
ease the pain I am feeling.
There’s never a minute that passed
that I didn’t hoped for the time to stop
so that i could bring it back
to the day when HE was still mine —
those days when we were together
so that I could have given him
everything he needs, and that
there’s no wasted time
for our love to be felt by each other.  

But the worst thing??
Is that there’s never a day that ends
that I never prayed for our love and
for our hearts to finally meet each other again,
at the right time and at the right moment
in our lives, conquering every moment
of our lives and every corner of our world
and living the rest of it together again,
and maybe this time we could be better.
And this time we would successfully
last through the many years to come
as we face disasters and chaos,
yet and still, we have each other
to love and to fight for.

—and that’s how the time of my life goes on.
I know i can do nothing to stop it
for whether I like it or not
it would always continue to count..
count every second of my pain..
Time wasters
Talk circles around my rolling eyes,
Nothing escapes them
But the point
Which is now ground duller than their wit.
Once proud pinnacles of though
Cannot be distinguished from
Littered words crusading for air.
Sunken cities subsist on stale ideas
And move feebly into tomorrow
As they shake the claws of yesterday
Only to suffer today.

But new ideas breathe resurrection
As chaos polishes the rusted ring
And births a dancing star.
Eccentric Enigma Jul 2014
Raindrops falling to parched earth
Bringing now growth flowing forth
Jesters brightly dressed dance to the court
As waiting wine brings on the thought
Past echoes with there canyons wide
Divided thoughts they soon take side
As waiting in lifes open wings
The monkey waits and patiently he sings
Never realizing his time is now past
Never to again bring chaos to the pass
Addictions shadow lingers still
Choices now mine for good or ill
Chained and caged in times gone past
Forgotten memories of the kind that last
Fleeting freedoms visions of warm sunrise
Rebuilding worth from times gone by
Relapse options used too many times
Years stretching ahead to realize
Where we can be some years from now
If we but tap lifes higher power
All things now within our grasp
No longer slaves to our wasted past
Bringing only those good things
Forgiving all those broken dreams

(GE2014) (C) Reserved
My heart aches for you

My eyes cry for you

My senses long for you

I, feel numb without you

My smiles wither without you

My soul thirsts for you

My body shivers without you

Please, tell me what to do

I miss you

Your void in my life, ever since you left

Has caused an unstoppable emotional leakage

My heart and mind are never in-sync

And I am shivering as I write this message

My heart is crying because it is alone

It is weeping, without making a sound

My soul if burdened with sad emotions

Which feel heavier, than a thousand pounds

I miss you

All the pictures of you and me

Are a sweet reminder of the good times

It was when we could be together

Life, was like a sweet poetry in perfect rhyme

But now that you’ve gone away

Everything has been thrown askew

Plunged, in a painful sense of chaos

My life, can only be set straight by you

I miss you

Without you

Sweet tastes sour

And nothing in this world

Seems worthy enough to devour

Coffee and hot chocolate

Just doesn’t taste the same

Going out to have ice cream

Feels boring and pretty lame

Without your awesome hugs

Life has turned monochrome

I’m like a lost puppy

Desperately searching for a home

I miss you
nico papayiannis Jan 2018
Insanity
Is how it shall be
Now that normality
Has departed,
Long gone
And uncharted

That line in the sand
It did expand
It swallowed whole
Every unstable soul
Every extremist
Every fanatical fantasist

Our morals drowning
In a sea of demons
An ocean of dystopian dreams,
Where we now lust and embrace
Such ludicrous extremes,
Vivid vivisections
Of intricate intersections

This alternative in place
Wears a mask on it's face
A disguise of lies
With a desire to despise
A parade of a pompous parody
To control through chaos
And manipulate humanity

Careful how you tread
And from whose hand you are fed
What you seek as innocence
Is ***** under the influence
Drugged and deranged
Compassion exchanged
On the stock market floated
And for all of this ,
This life of inadequacy
We stood in lines and voted
Sometimes I sit so blank as now,
Quietly--- no thoughts, no actions;
Devoid of pressure, of stress or tension.
I don’t know what can disturb this peace!


And sometimes, my mind is a battlefield;
I keep thinking and thinking—
Reflecting--- What’s right? What’s wrong?
And checking my actions, my behaviour –
What should I regret? What should I promise?
A quarrel with my beliefs, a war with all concepts.
Thoughts and emotions invade me like demons.
Each demon has a new story to tell.
They keep me working out, solving out
Everything that’s a part of this world.
They run wild, they toy with me.
Oh! I cant stop thinking!
Sometimes, they come united as an army;
They deprive me of sleep – my mind knows no calm rest.
I am thinking, I am thinking –
They force me to concentrate—Oh! I am tired.
There are solutions and there is me to derive it.
The sounding noise, the chaos, the confusion----
I don’t know what can give any peace!

A battle rages, and I am left defeated.
They strike on me wounds of experience, of knowledge.
They push me on, drag me on forcefully
Along the roads of learning, of growth.
They sharpen my mind, they force wisdom on me.
At the end of it all,
I am a hero—I have surpassed all tests.
I have travelled beyond boundaries, I have fought all limits.
I have known what war is—I have satisfied my demons!


The fight ensues----
Oh, I can’t stop thinking!
And sometimes like now,
There is that silence after the war—
The stains of battle remain;
But I have put down my sword--
The rest the hero deserves
Erwinism Dec 2024
some of the best recollections i curated is that of chaos.

i know you hate it, so i will make you remember.

how you lolled your tongue at the sight of garlic in your porridge when we’ve got nothing else to eat on a rainy day.

bowls of getting by squeezed out of tired pores, crated palms with puddles of a won day, same palms like coveted napkins on the lap of the rich wiping the long breath of hopelessness from your cheeks.

reed-thin body,
bones as if wafers,
yet we sprung forward.
not a care as we watched
the jowly cheeks of wanting
puff up.

how hand-me-down yesterdays were worn—a tradition tied around a last name like All Souls’ Day candles. they peer from behind the stars, thoughts of them sparkle, they are reminded of fights, they are reminded why they left in the first place, just in case boredom pays them a visit.

i’ve come to know, the most practical way to get a golden ticket to the land of happiness is to have it handy in my heart.

but you locked it up in a gilded cage and you chased a star not knowing it’s a sunset and it just kept dipping into peaks jutting out of nowhere, you had worn out your heels and you were left with nothing but midnight instead of holding on to your blanket and watch a new day spill out of the sky.

you were insane that way.

remember the shame how magic belts turned us red and purple and upright, and how we were the grinch who stole baby Jesus away from his nativity set and got caught and were taught grownups pick on kids who didn’t know better?

remember how mathematics predetermined our future as undisputed champs of failure courtesy of our clairvoyant aunts?

it mattered little—
inconsequential, so to speak.
we heaved our arms,
hoisted our dreams
onto our scrawny frames.
our bulging chests
were enough
for us to beat,
like bongos,
we fanned the flames
until they voices
throughout the milky way.
our mother
in her innocence believed
we were capable
of many a great things
between the better parts
of her mood swings.

we were mirrors more than we were humans portioned in parts bitter and beauty, we rummaged through every chance hoping we could unearth change, but we never did until it was too late.

yet, i always had your hand in mine. we dropped out of the line and strayed away from paths stamped with footprints of approval and wandered on roads no one can see but our hearts knew.

remember the day you let go so you could hold bottles thinking they were looking glasses, thinking they fermented clarity aged in oak barrels, and day after day you took a drop until you had an ocean dissolving you?

remember how i found real estate in the promises of a girl, how i grew a house there, but then, time mistook her for dorothy and blew her away like a tumble **** into the arms of another boy?

how i bawled out and how you had a ball at my expense, laughing at my silence at open mic night?

remember when we heard a drop of a needle the size of the moon hurtling down the earth when father sat up on his bed for the last time with his eyes open as if he saw an unseen door somewhere. somehow, we heard him skittering away while he left us a fertilizer for everyone to cry about?

remember how we forgot. we dreamt under the same roof before our feet carried us away.

into the mist went we,
threads began to fray,
we forgot.

i will make you remember,
before all that i am unravels.
deanena tierney Jul 2010
Trouble can take a stable man,
And make him go quite mad.
Uncertain just why she visited,
Make him wish she never had.

But there is no stopping Trouble.
She waits around every bend.
But once you do get used to her,
You may just call her "friend."

And yes, she may bring chaos,
As Trouble's been known to do,
But there's no avoiding it once,
Trouble's taken a liking to you.

And there is no need to worry,
Please do not worry at all.
Trouble needs your number,
To make an international call.
We died many times when we first met.
They’d say electric. You provided the shock.
I was in need of repairs,
a faulty motor with a clogged-up engine,
stumbling through life
like a Slinky
yawning its bones
down the stairs.

You played me well at first,
fingers on my body,
twiddled me back into tune.
We’d die again.
When we kissed
I tasted Malboro and Merlot.
I fell right into it,
you like a glossy new balloon,
a chaos of colour on my lips
left me spellbound.
We’d die again.
Then the moment would pop.
You’d be standing with a pin.

Met your parents.
They noddingly-approved between
gulps of Heineken,
but I knew we wouldn’t last.
It fell apart, of course.
Somebody ruined the jigsaw.
Started hurling snowballs
at each other, words like razors
shredding through the air.
We’d die again.

A slammed door, gone
to the corner-shop for milk
in a huff.
An eff-you blurting
out from the phone.
The shock had gone.
I think I’m dying again.
Written: March 2017.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time for university, by taking a line from a fellow student's work and using it in my piece - as such, changes are likely in the coming months. 'Slinky' refers to the toy, 'Malboro' to the brand of cigarettes, 'Merlot' to the wine, and 'Heineken' to the brand of lager. Feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP at some point in the future.
Star Gazer Apr 2016
It's 10 pm, Saturday night. I'm down in Jessie's place, just to join her in a lust filled night of sorts. Her blonde hair radiating from the lamp on the night stand. I carry her in my arms, both arms out resembling a father carrying a newborn baby except she wasn't my baby, not in that sense anyways. The tension in the air was so thick that even a butter knife couldn't spread the tension, but me and jessie had spread on our mind.

I could smell her alluring scent as I lay her down onto the bed, it must have been the thrill of daring to step into a boundary we had no knowledge existed. Love thy neighbour as heavenly quoted by men and women all around the world, I guess I was abiding by what I have been taught.

A little bit about Jessie, Jessie had these mesmerising blue eyes and had a husband, John,a fine husband, a brave husband who was filled with love.  John wasn't ever one to toot his own horns but he had the right to refer to himself in the third person, why wouldn't John be given the right? He's awesome and extremely brilliant at that. Nothing short of Superman or Einstein is what John has been told.

Jessie has been my neighbour for years, ever since I could remember. I drink a lot, so I haven't exactly the best memory of when or wheres. It was how we met, she was my neighbour and I was hers. Now we were closer, so close to the point that I could see her blue eyes staring into mine.

"Jess, I hope it's Ok, I wrote you ... a little poem. That's not...umm too weird right ?"

"Sure, as long as it's not something too eerie. Don't be too...what's that word?... Sappy" Jessie nodding in agreeance.

The words glided out of my lips like a gold medalist ice skater, with elegance and soft subtle seductive intentions.

'Love is like an ocean,
The sounds of crashing waves against rocks,
That mimic the sound of my heartbeat,
Love is more than an emotion,
Love is the echo of water dripping in a cave,
Love is a poison and a potion,
It is the pollen that fills the spring air,
Love can cause chaos and beauty
It holds onto your hearts and never lets go'.

I ended my recital by looking into Jessie's direction for affirmation of its quality, I couldn't actually pinpoint her ****** response but I'll try my best to capture it. Her eyes, rolled to one side in a condescending and demeaning manner but her smile was filled with some sort of ...actual craving for more.

My lips shot forward similar to the teens 'duck-face selfie poses', and I asked "So... do you ... like?".

Silence...

I waited for a little longer, or what felt like an eternity in my mind's timeframe.

Silence again...

I expressed my regret "Sorry, I'll recite another one?... Yes? "

"The sun and the moon,
You see they were friends,
But not everything twist and bends,
And even though the sun loved the moon,
He had loved her since yesterday's noon,
When she wasn't even around, he loved her.
Somewhere far away in the horizons,
It clearly never seemed to occur,
In her mind that he was thinking of her.
So every night, while birds and bees went to sleep
He died.
Just so her light could shine above his.
He died.
Just so her close friends, the stars could visit.
He died.
Just so the world appreciated her beauty,
Rather than his necessity."

Jessie still dressed in her singlet and underwear, quickly rose on two feet as a Chevrolet pulls up her driveway. A man with a neanderthal-like figure burst through the door yelling, ' I leave for business... and ya'll ******* in my house? ON MY ******* BED!!'

I tried my best to get past his door, because it was the only way I knew I would be able to keep my current state, the state of being still alive.
...

Jessie trying to explain everything with words, yes ...trying to use words with what clearly is a caveman.

'Darlin' we didn't do anything, he's just here yappin' on about something with moons and suns. I swear, I didn't do anything indecent'.

The caveman spoke again, in proper non-swearing, non-screaming English.
     'Sons? He was tryin' to put a baby in you? THAT'S IT!!.. Imma **** him!!'

That was the day I met John.
[A K-star and Beautiful Moon piece]

A little story for people who have nothing better to do. It's something I've written a while ago with my best friend. I thought you all should know a little about me before I flee away. I am a 20 year old student, who enjoys humour and it has come at the cost of the most important people and things in life. Uhh I do my best to make people happy or at least try to stay out of their way if they are on their way to find it. In the end of the day, no matter where my brain is or what my brain is thinking about, I can still sing and dance because I have something strong, I have will, a will to make myself happy.  I have had moments where I have wronged some of you (SPT...chloe....yea I'm kinda an ******* without realising ...I just wanted to say sorry).

Last story- Last thing I'll ever write (well in this case edit)...

Now all that's left for me is Essays until the day I can pick up my creative side once again.

Remember there's still ink in my pen.

This is like my third time saying bye.... ... I'm kind of addicted to this site, so I must cut it loose to start fresh. You know, sometimes you have to push your past away, to start over, you have to let go of everything , every emotion, every connection, everything just to be clear minded. I guess I'm doing my best to be clear minded again.

Bye to my fellow friends and poets, my poet friends and everyone.
Anomie Agnosis Jun 2016
Through sickness I live like this egg
-who must restructure himself  
           within a cracked shell
Both torn of safety and of innocence
And cresting through the flux of chaos
An amalgamation of both worlds  
           ever more foreign than last
-2014

— The End —