Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Joe Cole Jun 2015
I once wrote about the chrystal stream
Where poets wrote and young lovers dreamed
Of the beautiful years to come
But the chrystal stream became a fetid place
Of sewage and industrial waste
And so the poets no longer wrote
And young lovers no longer dreamed
Of beautiful years to come
But now I sit beside a chrystal bay
The sun forming diamonds on rippling waves
Bird song sounding in my ears
Peace washing away years of stress and fear
This now is the place where poets write
Now the place where young lovers can dream
Of beautiful years to come
Tranquil here is the early morn
With the rising sun reborn
This now the place to sit and think
Take up the pen make bold the ink
But I'll never forget that chrystal stream
Where poets once wrote and young lovers once dreamed
Of the beautiful years to come

Memories long past. Dreams yet to be fulfilled

(The original chrystal stream poem)

No More The Chrystal Stream

We search once more for the chrystal stream
Where poets once wrote and young lovers once dreamed
Of the beautiful years to come

But no more now is the chrystal stream
Where poets wrote and lovers dreamed
Of beautiful years to come

The chrystal stream now a fetid place
Of sewage and industrial waste
The hedgerows long ripped out and gone
Once green fields now barren ground
What legacy do we leave for our unborn sons
Now the beautiful years have gone

But we poets still can sit and dream
And write of things that might have been
In our minds we still see the chrystal stream
And dream of the beautiful years to come
No more is the chrystal stream

I added the original poem to give a better understanding of my latest write
Frankie Gestone Mar 2013
He woke up in a rapid sweat, darkness surrounding him, his soaked pillow was pressing up on his neck as he could feel the uncomfortable stabbing cold run right threw his whole body. His mouth was dry and his body was in great pain. He lay there practically naked, but not just physically, also emotionally. It was like a catatonic state where the person’s body is paused in reality, but the actual person is far away and isolated even from himself. He wondered why he was so comfortable being uncomfortable and remaining frozen in time.  He saw nothing but the subtle moonlight that peaked through the blinds of his window. A point of existence, he feels nothing because all he has ever felt has drowned him. His numbness was being accepted and he embraced that if he remained this way, he would never have to feel hurt or heartbreak again. It’s better this way, he confirmed.

Eventually he got up out of his bed, walked outside to a nearby empty field. He looked up at the infinite night sky and contemplated the moon, the stars, and the endless space that sustained all of its existence. A tear fell down his cheek as he remembered the beautiful wonder of life and the universe; his realization that he is just a small spec of dust compared to all that is and all that is wonderful. Whatever happened to that universal happiness he used to feel? The feelings of the unseen, the cosmos, the mysteries that remain unsolved were all love. He then felt ancient and brand new at the same time-always being around all that is, but recently born into the unknown. The silence of the night swarmed him, and he suddenly embraced all the things he could not accept. The lullaby of the wind put him to sleep.

When he awoke, it was twilight. The sky was a lighter, deep blue and the sun in the far distance was rising in a fiery halo of mixed red, orange, and yellow colors, and the early morning clouds were clear and transparent. He heard the sound of a train horn in the far distance. He followed the sound with his ears as the sound became slightly louder and louder. Then, suddenly he could see the light of the early morning train.

The train had stopped as he approached it, and he hopped on with no hesitation or looking back. This runaway train was going to take him to where he needs to be, and he blindly and faithfully accepted that his fate was out of his hands now. No more heartbreak, no more reminders of the past, and most importantly no more drowning in his tears. As the train proceeded to move forward, he could feel fresh air gently touch his face, and all that he saw and ever knew were now flashing lights disappearing into eternity.

It was hours into the late morning when the train made its first stop. He listened to the train conductor speak out over the intercom, almost incoherently, say, “This is Brightstone Park. Next stop will be Riverhead.” A nostalgic feeling suddenly came over him as he could remember that his very first kiss was in Brightstone Park with Jessica Garzi. That was not his first true love, but his very first heartbreak. Riverhead was a forbidden memory, as he knew a classmate who had committed suicide off the Riverhead Bridge. He had not returned there in five years because of his haunting memories that would always come back to remind him just how cold and frightening the world really is.

While lost in thought, he felt a rough, sand paper-like wet feeling on his forearm. He looked down and it was a black cat, but not all black. The paws were all white like socks, and the chest and stomach were snow white. The loud prominent purr was a very peculiar reminder of a cat he once owned. Her name was Midnight. She was not the friendliest cat to strangers, but she loved him, especially when he massaged her paws. This cat was practically identical to Midnight. Midnight was put down three years ago though. As he began petting the cat’s back, it ran away and jumped off the moving train. He looked out in a hurry, but it was gone. It was just like everything else he loved. There for one moment, then gone the next. The strange thought that has one wondering if anything had actually existed that is now no more. A person, or a thing, could mean everything to you, but once they slip away, they become like the wind: occasionally brushing up against you, but never revealing its form.

On the train he began to wonder how he got where he was, and in general how the smallest decisions he made lead to bigger events and all in all, everything was all connected. There are no isolated events, or isolated people- it is all proven fact and science. Everything depends on each other to survive. The trees depend on the sun to keep themselves alive; we give off carbon dioxide to the trees and in return, we receive the oxygen we need from the leaves of the trees. He thought about the potential of a seed-for example, a tomato seed. Within that tiny seed is unlimited potential of life: The seed may produce one plant of several tomatoes, and within all those tomatoes are countless other seeds. This is all from one seed. Then, one may take a couple of seeds from a picked tomato and plant them throughout the yard creating a garden. That original seed came from another tomato seed inside a tomato on a plant, and that seed came from another seed. When did this cycle of reproduction begin and when does it end? Is it just another form of the infinite? When a person eats a tomato from that original seed, he receives certain essential vitamins his body needs for surviving and sustaining good health. This good health will effect his offspring and so on and so on. When he defecates, that will all return to the earth for potential fertilizer used for other tomato seeds. This is the same when he returns to the earth again. His dust will fertilize the same world that he came from, for all things come from it just to inevitably return to it.

He continued to think about how matter is never created nor destroyed and the same for energy. Nothing ever truly dies; the form changes into something new, like how water becomes a cloud and the cloud becomes water. Though this comforted him, he noticed that a few feet away from him was a former coworker and friend, Natasha Karev. She always infatuated him and they became close friends, but he always wished it had continued and gone even further than it did. One night, only a couple of years ago, they were at a friend’s party. Both were drinking, but not so heavily. That night they bonded and got so close, that she admitted she loved him. He was never quite sure how real that “I love you” was, but it was burned inside his heart ever since. That night there were moments she would tell him how much she wanted to make love to another guy at the party, Kevin, but was afraid to approach him. She told him she desperately wanted to lose her virginity that night to somebody because she was eighteen and only getting older. This was like a sharp knife slowly penetrating into his heart. He remained speechless for quite a few minutes. Finally he decided to go up in a bedroom alone. To his surprise, she followed him up and kissed him. He felt her clothed body up and down, and she touched areas not many have touched before. She told him she wanted to have *** and that she wanted him to rob her of her virginity. He was speechless, but extremely excited. Then, abruptly, she told him she could not because everything was happening way too soon. Why couldn’t she just make up her mind? He sat frustrated in the darkness, again, all alone. After that night, they spoke and remained close, yet that night was never mentioned again. It was as if it had never happened. After about two years of an on and off friendship, they just went their own ways. There were no fights or disagreements. Life just separated them.

“You’re just a figment inside somebody’s dream. So far from reality, you are a dream within a dream within a dream.” Startled by this soft voice, he quickly turned around to see Natasha smiling at him. “Ha-ha! I knew I could scare you. Were you abused as a kid, or something?” No words could come out at that moment, but he hugged her tightly. She explained to him that she is getting off at the next stop to meet a friend. He was sure he wanted to follow her and see where life would take him. She reminisced and told him how she had been away inside her own cave for several months, but is now very happy to meet up with everyone she had lost contact with.

The next stop arrived, but he did not catch the name of the stop he was getting off. As he got off with several others, both he and Natasha met up with her friend, Valeria, who he found quite cute. She resembled Natasha a bit in that they both had ***** blonde hair and blue eyes. They walked right into a giant street fair with a crowd of people looking at the foods and desserts, the trendy clothes, cheap jewelry, and children play rides.

As he looked around, he began seeing many familiar faces. He saw Kevin, a childhood and grammar school mate there with another co-worker of his, Jenny. Jenny was a Colombian beauty in his eyes and who was a flirt and tease to him, but never actually gave him any time alone. Incidentally, he knew both of them at different times in his life and had no idea they knew of each other. Kevin stopped contacting him during high school without any arguments or disloyalties that would tear a friendship apart. Keeping his head down, he walked a few feet to discover another childhood best friend, Jack, who was with a mutual childhood friend, Melanie. Melanie was a best friend of his and also a first childhood crush who also had a crush on him. He thought it was odd because even though Melanie and Jack were also best friends, Melanie never liked Jack in a special boy/girl way. He felt a moment of heartbreak, but quickly turned away and kept walking. A little further up the road, he saw two more childhood friends, Chris and Jimmy, who as children did not get along that well and only hung out with each other in the company of him. How peculiar it was suddenly seeing them together after ten years, and as seemingly best of friends.

That was not all. Things were getting stranger and stranger. It was like all the people who had made an imprint on his life were now coming together around him. He saw his two therapists, one he had gone to as a teenager and the other as a young adult, stand next to each other selling prescription drug samples. Both stared at him with a blank face, but with a prominent smile. He could barely nod at them. Natasha directed them to a local bar. Inside the bar was huge and also had a second floor. He noticed the music playing in the background was, Nocturne In E Flat Major, Op.9 No.2, by Polish born Romantic composer, Frederic Chopin. He became fixated on the elegant eighth note, left hand arpeggios, and the sweet and peaceful fast moving seven, eleven, twenty, and twenty-two notes from the right hand. If he thought about the most beautiful song ever written and all that is wonderful in one, this was the song.

They all took a seat and began looking at people and laughing at their behavior. Everyone was wearing masks. Social masks. They observed how different people act when they are in social gatherings, and how if you carefully study their body language, it will become clear that what they are saying and trying to put out is not what is actually being expressed through the body. One young man was frantically shaking his right leg as he tried to flirt confidently with a young woman he had just recently met. His face began to turn noticeably red, in an embarrassed flush, and he was making sudden hand gestures and quick eye blinking. She, on the other hand, pretended to be interested in what he was saying; yet her eyes would often look around the room and her body was a good distance from him with her arms folded.

Then as they were all laughing, he abruptly stopped and looked ahead to see two drunken women making out two tables away from them. As his eyes focused in on them, he realized they were two of his former crushes, Claire and Veronica, who he had no idea knew of each other because in fact, they were from different time periods of his life. He began seeing former teachers and professors from each stage of his school career, laughing hysterically with one another. Some of his most inspiring teachers and professors were gathered with other teachers and professors he despised. A young, tattooed hipster woman entered the scenery with a little Cairn Terrier that had an uncanny resemblance to his recently passed dog, Petey, who was put to sleep when he was away on a vacation, unexpectedly. His sorrow began to overwhelm him for not being able to say good-bye and see him for a proper last time. Everything about the dog’s high energy, playfulness, and watchdog attitude was exactly like Petey. A tear ran and fell off his cheek from his left eye right into the hand of Natasha. He looked up at her and she said, “Your tears are my tears. For what pain you withhold, I take and share with you.” She then wiped her right eye with the hand that held his tear. Natasha’s friend began to speak slowly into his left ear in Russian. Though he could not understand a word she was saying, it sounded just like a poem based on the pattern and rhythm’s consistency. It made him feel free of melancholy, but then thought of Angela Antonaci entered his mind.

He thought that the last painful experience ended with the break up of his closest best friend ever to play a part in his life. She was his girlfriend for the last three and a half years. They had known each other for ten years before they broke up their entire relationship. She was thirteen and he was fifteen when they first met in a park. She was always all over him like a little schoolgirl and he would often get frustrated with her obsession over him, for he believed he was no big deal. She was the first person to ever make him feel special and important, and even though he would resent her likeness towards him, he could never keep his eyes off of her or stop himself from always coming to her when he felt lonely. After about seven years, he realized he was in love with her. He had always been in love with her from the first time they met eyes. His long road had always lead back to her home in life. Every time he tried forgetting her and moving on, they would meet again. That person people search their entire lives for, he had found.

He rose out of his seat and briefly said goodbye to Natasha and her friend and went upstairs. He wanted time to be alone and walk around until he suddenly saw Jessica walking towards him. He stopped and waited for her to say hello, but she walked right by him, as if he had never existed. He felt a little insulted, yet relieved as any awkwardness that would arise was avoided. Looking ahead, he saw Angela’s two best friends, Kate and Julie, with her high school crush, John. John was playing an acoustic guitar on a lounge chair, singing to the two friends, almost enticing them with his eyes and voice. His jealousy overcame him, as Angela had been infatuated with him on and off even though he had played with her feelings throughout high school and college. John would tell her he loved her and make her believe he was a romantic, then when she fell into his words, he would leave her and keep a distance for long periods of time, leaving her in despair.

The conclusion occurred to him that maybe she was nearby. He searched throughout the entire bar not finding any other clues that she was around. When he went downstairs, he saw Natasha and her friend asleep, as well as most of the bar, except for the bartender. It was like everyone just passed out from the alcohol or possibly inhaled some type of knockout drug. The bartender was watching the news forecast of a tornado watch and dangerous thunderstorms. The bartender looked at him and said, “It’s better if you stay in here. It’s dangerous out there. I recommend you don’t go out!” He just listened, but decided to leave to the outside anyway.

He walked three blocks through the heavy rain and strong winds. He took a moment to stop and look at the black and gray clouds above him. As he looked across the street, he saw her. She was with her mother, sister, and mutual friends of theirs, Chrystal and Mike. He also saw behind them, his own mother and sister. He ran across the street to her and she shockingly with excitement screamed, “Hey!!! Oh my God!! Please stay with us. I missed you so much. You have no idea. We have to get to a shelter away from this storm. Hold my hand…” Smiling, he kept walking with them. They walked for twenty minutes and entered a giant field. After ten minutes of walking restlessly through the field, they all stopped to catch their breath. Angela’s mom ordered everyone to hold one another’s hand. An enormous gust of wind pushed them all to the grassy ground. He began to shake violently as he felt the touch of death nearby. He wondered if this would be the end, as he felt unaccomplished and left with so much left unsaid to her. Thoughts raced through his mind like a speeding highway about how to get to safety. Unable to control and remain focused on one rational thought at a time, he blacked out for a minute.

Then there he was right in the middle of a storm. In so many ways, he realized where he was ending was where he originally began. All the imprints from all he ever knew came back all at once to watch him finally leave all he ever knew from this life. And in the last moments, he found himself with her. He held her hand, while she held his, and the hands of their family and friends. The world was so dark and cold. The wind became much more rapid and an enormous bright light from it came within just miles of them. He kept looking up at the dark black and gray clouds over them, never as frightened as he was now. His focus was on the great strength of the wind. Whatever melancholic thoughts he had of his life, he would not give up hope. Maybe he was just hopelessly hopeful, but holding each other tightly might, in some miraculous way, save them. Then suddenly a deep peace began to sustain his very being. He remembered whose hand he was holding- the only woman to ever understand every level of his being. He looked down at her big, precious eyes pouring out tears. Their eyes locked, as she had been watching him the entire time. No words needed to be said from one another. They knew exactly what they felt and meant. For the first time in his life, everything was all okay. All was beautiful. The whole situation was beautiful, not tragic. In that moment, he understood this was where he was meant to be. This was where he wanted to be, for only in such a life altering moment does one comprehend the very nature of love and life. To just glance into her eyes and see the same person staring back in suspense, while all he ever knew was being born, growing, and dying simultaneously in complete acceptance. They began to fade and disappeared into the light.
Douglas Scheurn Oct 2016
Ten million bombs,
In an organism,
Single of cell.

The nucleus becomes nuclear,
The ironic cliche.
Instructions to life is unclear,
Resurrection per touch'e.

The ground breaks and falls away,
Supernatural universe all around you,
Leading yourself away,
Venomous vapor clouds you pass through.

Written texts whisper secrets,
"They're secrets for none exist to hear it!"

Ink fills the veins in challenge,
Blood carresses the paper before you,
Eyes stare in mallace,
Rebellion is the potential in truth,

The light dims as you suffocate the beautiful lie.
Thirteen dice becames synchronized with your soul,
Chances are you will die,
Before your art feeds your home.

As sad as this is,
It brings us boundless joy.

From the darkest possible chasm,
Ascends our Chrystal-Rift ******.
Joe Cole Feb 2021
I once wrote about a chrystal stream
Where poets once wrote
And young lovers dreamed
Of the beautiful years to come

But the chrystal stream became a fetid place
Of sewage and industrial waste
And so the poets no longer write
And young lovers no longer dream
Of the beautiful years to come

But now I sit beside a chrystal bay
The sun forming diamonds on rippling waves
Bird song sounding in my ears
Peace washing away years of stress and fear
This now the place where poets write
Now the place where young lovers dream
Of the beautiful years to come

Tranquil here in the early dawn
With the rising sun reborn
This now the place to sit and think
Take up the pen and make bold the ink
But I'll never forget the chrystal stream
Where poets once wrote and young loves once dreamed
Of the beautiful years to come
Walking again
in evening dusk
it is a must

walking through immense wonders
poetrysites, poetryhomes and all that wonders
need to walk this evening bright
see the afterglow in the ditch alright

greet Hello Poetry and Hello Friend
walking through this immense land
who will I meet, who shall I greet?
where, what and when I'll tweet

all poetryhomes I have been
not really many sites I have seen
sad sound, mad sound, all insane
hellooooo oh no not that again!

walking through this endless land
looking for the right poetryman
afraid I must give up this time
no not again poetry sublime

the evening dusk lasts nightless long
what was that song, what had gone wrong
must I not do this walk or not...?
irgendwo I have a friend, but forgot

in this endless meadowland
just see a tippy-bit of gland
where is that ditch from far a stitch
with enough water and which
this is the source of health

finding it, oh what a wealth!
the afterglow is still the same
where is that source, is this a game?
oh, there at quite a distance
I can see with no resistance

oh so sorry, that man has run away
so, no poetryman this way
but where is the source now
clear chrystal water with that glow

oh look, the source...wow!
surely I'll find that bestimmt now
approaching the ditch that clear water
I hope it shall not alter
anymore into red water

bow myself into deepness
and see the beauty of clearness
wow, clear chrystal source
I see someone, please don't force

oh...hello....no one.....is it?
oh hello....feel so stupid
there is someone, it is Sylvie
now you know it, it's Hello me...


© Sylvia Frances Chan
saturday 13-04-13
@22.31 hrs p.m.- W.E.Time
Well crap, game is over and they beat us.
I write these words with sadness as Michigan State wins the game fair and square, no tricks, no bad calls just man on man beat us.
________________
My Team, My Dream, My Buckeyes

The Ohio State Buckeyes
Each year their games I view
My team still undefeated
And ranked at number two

We now must play a team up north
But not the maize and blue
We beat that rival of our school
Now we'll beat the green ones too

With the game this week that we must play
We know one team must fall
With Buckeye Pride and heads held high
We will sing our victory song

The champion who will win this game
Will wear the Big Ten crown
They will give to them a trophy
And a parade for all in town

Then one more game that we must play
To be the number one of all
As college football champions
We will raise that Chrystal Ball


Go Bucks.... O. H. _
. __.
THE Ohio State University

Carl Joseph Roberts
December 2013
Yes I know this poem is very regional and it more then likely will not get a bunch of hits. Still this one is for me.  I am obviously from Ohio and Obviously a fan of The Ohio State Buckeyes. The victory over Michigan was fantastic and hopefully we can defeat a strong Michigan State team as well. If we win this weeks game we will play for the national championship and the crystal ball trophy. Such a great year for Buckeye Football. Go Bucks.
Sarah Jean Ashby May 2013
I had a dream about you last night.
It was as though the pain of the last 6 months was bundled up into one night's sleep. But at the end of my dream I sent you a text. In it I said, "I go back and forth between hating you and just wishing you would speak to me. There are so many things that I want to tell you. I wanted to tell you about being offered an internship with the Human Rights Campaign this summer and that I can't accept their offer because I can't afford to have an unpaid internship, even if it's an opportunity I've always dreamed of. I'm also waiting to hear back about a paid internship in NYC with DoSomething.org. Even if I don't get the internship, I've been looking for summer full-time jobs all over Iowa and I plan on living on my own this summer. If there's one thing I've learned this year it's that I'm stronger than I ever thought and that I can make it on my own. I want to tell you that I'm in love. Not with you, but with someone I never saw coming. Someone who surprises me everyday and makes me not regret anything that happened between you and I because it led me to him. So thanks, I guess.

Dr. Chrystal wrote me a letter of recommendation and although I don't know the standard protocol for students reading their own LOR, he sent me a copy, so I read it. It made me cry. I guess no matter how many times people tell you how "special" you are, it doesn't sink in until you witness them telling someone else what they think about you. Growing up, I was never smart enough. Never pretty enough. Never anything enough to be different; to stand out. But here, it's a different story. For some reason people see something in me that I can't explain. I've been conditioned for so long to see myself as not enough that it's hard for me to believe anything otherwise. I didn't think I was enough for you, and that cost me my best friend. I'm sorry for not letting go. I'm sorry for holding onto what happened, but it's only because you were the first person to really see something in me that I couldn't. And when you left, it made me question everything you ever told me. And whether you deserve to be hated or not, I can't ignore the feeling that you understand what I'm going through. I can't give up the hope that one day you'll look at yourself in the mirror and realize that you deserve to be seen too. Because I think we both need someone to not only listen, but to understand. This ended up not being at all what I wrote in that "dream text", but I don't regret anything that I've ever written you and I'm not going to start now. Shamefully, I will probably continue to write you for the rest of my life. Even if you don't respond, I know that you care about the little stupid things I have to say. When you find someone that sees you, you don't give up when they decide to close their eyes. You wait. And hope that they will get tired of living in the dark. If you read that book that I gave you, you'll understand me when I say that we accept the love we think we deserve. You deserve more than you think. And I'll be here when you decide to open your eyes. Not in the same way as before, but here nonetheless.
Since I met you here, dear friend
I began to like this place a lot
at first sight it was eerie here
and the ground for me too hot

As I continued walking
upon untrodden paths
rotten fruit surrounding me
no bees or birds are singing

I wonder walking all alone
no sign of a living soul
all green softness disappeared,
and everywhere was stone

Wondering all the time, no shame
I found a clear chrystal ditch at last
if you will ask about the name
is that the present or in the past?

My head turning, my feet burning
they are to blurr my view
great bliss that pure water and some dew
wish that shall change my head from spinning

Then walking all the while with the same view
I see from far a green stip slowly coming
in seventh heaven am I, since it's a human being
I thank Thee on my naked knees, it is you my friend

I notice beauty yonder
the mockingbird and wren
have a duet together
I wonder since when

After I've met you, friend
I like this place a lot
it's not so eerie anymore
and God's blessings are on this spot


© Sylvia Frances Chan
      27th April 2013
Poetry not my Death
but my Living
not my End but my Beginning
Chloe Zafonte May 2016
Lighten up dear
Do not shed a tear
The pain will be gone soon
Maybe not tomorrow or at noon
It will all be Chrystal clear
The end is not near
The pain will be gone soon
Like an escaped balloon
Into the skys of a summer day
Gently floating, fading away.
All I've seen in this site are these heart breaking poems. Just wanted to cheer you all up.
Umi Jul 2018
Gather in a dark night, where the fantasy runs surpreme,
Gather in a dream, for you will not have to die in it's grasp,
Always in the presence of a sweet dream,
Dance my beloved servant, my wonderful dark knight,
To the sound of my waving, distorted, burnt wings with their marks,
I won't show you any sad dreams, but I want to heal your wounds,
Fold your hands and spin the wool, move through these fantastic grounds with me and don't you dare to be a fool,
A legendary illusion, chrystal starlight, what is it you desire ?
The eternity of the land of fantasy, the unlimited time in dreams,
Escape away from all the trouble this world has offered you,
And fall into a deep long slumber forever after,
Be aware of the great magic, it might be your fall,
The gate closed, recall to your previous self, you won't return from here on, but will always be able to look forward, for you are trapped,
It should been have so, what's left are six wings, allowing me to sore in the dream of this endless abyss.
What's left is an illusion of your former self,
Sleep.

~ Umi
Joe Cole Oct 2015
Come walk with me on a high place
Where so few have ever trod
Where the air is chrystal pure
And majestic eagles soar
Listen, listen to the silence of this pure un-sullied place
Gaze upon the beauty
That man has not yet defaced
Yes walk with me in the splendor
Created by natures hand
Breath deeply of the beauty
Before it to is destroyed by man
Joe Cole Jul 2015
I soar on eagles wings
Above mean grey city streets
Where the seething anthills of humanity
Not truly alive but do exhists
The stinking **** stained stairwells
Where the dealers ply their evil trade
Where life is held so cheaply
Who will see another day
You walk into the wrong street
And your life is on the line
You smell the rancid stink of corruption
In these the modern times

The thermals lift me higher
Carry me to the South
Below a verdant meadow
Where wild flowers abound
Picnics taking place
'Neath the spreading boughs
Of the stately chestnut tree
And gentle dappled light
Down there in a chrystal stream
Children laugh and play
No drugs or air pollution
To Mar such a beautiful day
Mike Hauser May 2013
A cosmic parade today fell from the starry sky
As nations lined up to watch it all pass by

Beauty to behold, a bit hard to believe
Paraded down all the worlds cities streets

Chrystal spears of every color and size
Filled with wonder all the hearts and the minds*

Never before has there been such a day
As this day of the cosmic parade

Exotic flowers dancing in a magical mood
Bright colors flashing in a rainbow of hue

Nothing of this sort has ever been seen
Like being awake in the strangest of dreams

The oddest of creatures whistling planetary tunes
With banners held high of universal moons

All you hear from the crowd are oohs, aahs, and sighs
As the cosmic parade goes floating by

7 foot tall aliens with 7 bells in each of their 7 hands
Lined up 2 by 2 in the parades space time marching band

Polka dot animals with heads like big bass drums
Being ridden and played by purple hands with 13 thumbs

In place of all the floats, spaceships were in flight
Spelling out peace and love in brightly colored lights

That must be the reason for this wonderful parade
To bring joy and peace to a world in need on this day of special days

A machine like none ever seen scattered stardust confetti to the wind
Causing all the world as one to turn and call each other friend

As anger and hatred melted from the heart of man
At that precise instant throughout all the land

Just as fast as this cosmic wonder fell out of the sky
At the end of the street is where they waved goodbye

Off to spread the message of serenity and peace
*To other solar systems like ours that desperately have that need
Wanderer Jun 2014
Colour of a blue eyed newborn's
Iris sneaking itself through
Marshmellow clouds lined
With pink mother-of-pearl
And my admiration.
I want to touch everything.
I work with my hands.
I can build whatever you need,
And am the best tickler
South of the Arctic.
I want to put my fingers through
Anything beautiful I see.
Always looking;
Wanting to touch.
                              
That which begs to be touched
My mind caressing tree limbs
Breathing in celestial counterparts
To weave through this new configuration
Third eye open
Stumbled upon fathomless depths
Unknown
Wide brimmed, wide eyed
Don't sleep, don't sleep
So much yet to soak up
To taste


That which begs to be tasted.
Skin, warm with wanting,
Wet with relief and
Passing contentment.
Lips that uttered
Curses now kiss soft
Fingertips tracing
More love than
Love has ever had.
All is new
To the reborn.
Here are my hands.
They see through me,
Look into you, and rest
Upon the centre of your
Innermost centermost.
An umbilical between
Godess and
Man.
I smile mouthfulls
Of everything.


Hopeful, hope filled
The silver edge to this cloud
Dropping rainbow 3pm's to halo
Around my grinning skull
I am simple in my sobriety
Chrystal cut clear in winter yearning
Seeing the forest finally for the trees
These wonders reaching down out of the darkness
Shedding light on this pale, pale mourning
Nerve tips trace along your dips and curves
Memorizing
Mesmerized

And that baby-eye blue
Is now a full grown heaven
Full of sweet nothings
And nobodys,
Holding only such ideas as
Void and timelessness
In its handless hands.
I watch it with you; arm
Around your doll waist,
Shoulder against your
Head.
It's a new day.
A new, beautiful day.
A new, beautiful, hopeful
Day for us both.
Pots of gold on either end
Of this unimaginary
Rainbow.
The first, third and last verse sets of this piece are written by Sverre Holter. Thank you for your kindness and company :)
How many times have I to tell you this?!
never try to love me without a bliss
this day is not yours but His

How many times have I to tell you this?
love me as I am and used to be
let the ardent rose keeps its freshness
and the soft butterfiles their pure cleanness

love me please the way I am
please do not change me to fit in your program
when the Lord created me He was full of wrath
I had to choose the divine roads to follow His Path

love me please with all my rights and wrongs
with my ugliness and my beauty of the night
consider that I am not that strong
as you might have  imagined with all your might

How many times have I to tell you this...?
never try to love me without His bliss
this day and all other days  are all His

listen to the birds in the forrests
all are bringing His message about all the good things
but never try to love me without His Blessings
to cling on me charmingly but without a zest

how many times have I to tell you this?
just love me the way I am
never try to let me fit in your program
without a sigh of His love in your  kiss

please let this message be as chrystal clear

never forget to wish each other lovingly
like I am doing now for All of YOU from me

A Most Happy Stay on Hello Poetry !



© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Frst posted in Poetfreak.Com
on Thursday, 1st January 2015
dated on HP Tuesdayday 6th January 2015
#30
moziq Jul 2017
Hey there old friend. Maybe friend isn’t the correct term, so allow me to rephrase. Hello old habit. You and me were best friends. We were the Thelma and Louise of our time and yes we flew over the cliff and plunged into the abyss. I was sick and I only needed you. Not chicken soup which is weird because I always thought you were better when heated on a spoon. I thought you were all the antibiotics I needed. You and me were married once. I woke up to you, thought about you all day long, and rushed you into my arms at night. But that was just the honeymoon phase.
My friend, my disease. I was in it not for the thrill of the chase but for the end of my pain. When I was with you I saw my dreams come true. Pigs were flying, Donald Trump wasn’t considered sane enough to run the country, and I didn’t have to believe I was dying. I didn’t have to care about Tom, Ben, or Jerry. Care if the birds flew south to avoid harsh winters or harsh people. I avoided both. I only cared about cutting  perfect line, rolling a perfect dime, and making sure I didn’t look high. If I said I didn’t miss you I would be lying but hey, you’ve made a liar out of me before. It’s easy to try and ignore the hell you put me through, but I would walk a thousand miles of hells seventh floor before I slip back into that fantasy. That coma of things that have never been and could never not be. Me and the devil have danced nine times to many and I know all his sweet moves.

My friend, my affliction, Kryptonite doesn’t have a **** thing on you! You kept me down for four years. Only down was up and up was blue and it was way to difficult to stop believing in you. Believing you were better than real love. I loved you so much. You were my sweetheart, my honeybear, my chrystal, my blow, my k2 spice, my daily fix. But you can’t fix this! You can’t fix my past or make my future bright. I know I sound like I’ve suddenly seen the light but it was always there. I just chose to close my eyes.
My friend I think it’s best we stop playing this game. It’s time I call you by your true name. Addiction, you were never my friend only another bullet I’d bitten. Addiction you are my cancer, you may not be stage four but you're still terminal. You were the Thelma to my Louise. Only now if I am driven to the edge of insanity I’ll skid to a stop. I will watch as you fall over the edge, and I’ll smile as you dive into oblivion. A place I never again want to be.
Jack Dalton Nov 2013
shes sleeping
And chrystal ssnow
Floats to rest like me.
Joe Cole Aug 2015
I will build my home in the high woods
No electricity nor phone
My morning alarm the chorus
Of birds welcoming the dawn
My drink, water from the chrystal stream
The nectar of the gods
My church the wide expanse of sky
Pure nature for my god
No more the stress of daily life
Ño more the strident ring
Of the mobile phone with yet another message
Of gloom and dark despair
I know that I must die
As all of us must do
All I ask is that you bury me under a tall tree
Here in the place that I love
Take a walk in the wild wood
In the wind driven rain
Smell the smells of wild mushrooms
Growing un restrained
Or sit with me in the pine woods
When the sun is beating down
Intoxicated by the pine resin scent
Invading body and mind
Come with me my friends
Bryce Perry Apr 2015
Yellow napkins
Chrystal glasses,

The walls bled golden flakes into a
fountain
ground that zig-zagged
a misleading pattern.
The wallpaper
and aroma
turned me off.
It was something of a tacky
reminiscence of the 20s,
Reaching in inaudible desperation
towards the ***** man
in his black tuxedo,
Pressing his black baby grand piano.
The waitress came,
(All-too rehearsed)
she was pudgy in her complexion but slender in build.
She crooned to me, a question.
"To drink?"
I didn't answer,

Just stayed, fixated on the yellow rose slowly growing towards its death on the table.
Everything seemed to be yellow.
And even in the azure daylight
kneading its way through the windows,
I still saw death's hoofed shoulders
crying through every object.


I ordered a water.
Joe Cole Jan 2015
Come, let's take a journey from the mountain to the sea
And study natures wonders put there for you and me
We won't go by car or take a railway train
We will travel at natures pace, travel by natures ways

Together we will wander the pleasant green country paths
There's no reason for us to hurry, let's make this journey last
We'll stroll beside the chrystal streams 'neath skies of azure blue
Study wild flowers of every shade and hue

Come the evening shadows we will stop and take our rest
Find a soft and sheltered place where we can rest our heads
No candles or electric light will we ever need
Just a canopy of twinkling stars to cover us as we sleep

We will wake up with the dawn to a chorus of singing birds
Wake up to the greatest music that man has ever heard
Quench our thirst from the crystal stream then we'll set out again
We finally leave the mountain slopes and meet the grassy plains

No sign of habitation, no human voices heard
Just the sights and sounds of nature, of deer and soaring birds
Bees and butterflies sip nectar from the flowers
As we wander slowly on and do not count the hours

We journey ever westward, following the sun
Occasionally a dark gray cloud and cool refreshing rain
For us time has no meaning on this journey to the sea
To be at peace with nature is the only thing we need

Suddenly in the distance a glimpse of shining blue
Our journey is nearly over as the sea comes into view
I will look back in wonderment at the things that we have seen
Nature in her full glory, mountain, plain and stream
.................
Alicia Mar 2021
when doe brown eyes met chrystal blue
I froze somehow I recognized you
thunder struck
I choked on my own breath
senses and synapses firing
my ears ringing deaf
gravity lifted body and soul
broken pieces now made whole
we tied our red threads
without mourning
our old lives now dead
then arms like an elm
wrapped warmth and security
as your voice like an orchestra
sang to me
calling me home
to the place I was fated to be
Cristy Sesma Jul 2016
We created a world, our world
It was mine, it was yours, it was ours.
We could close our eyes and fly to the sky
Dancing in cabins, breaking our hearts
Playing with fire while drinking some wine
I lay my head in my bed close my eyes in surrender
You were all I could see
I felt no love, I felt no pain
I felt only your breath.
Chrystal pieces shattered inside my chest
I see no heart was what the doctor had said
Rivers of blood running out of my veins
And all I wanted was to love you this way.
Chloe Zafonte Feb 2016
Good morning dear, your words are just as beautiful as a Chrystal Chandelier.
Graff1980 Aug 2016
How many times can you clench your fists
Claim defense while proactively seeking conflict
Looking to others as the culprit when you did it
How many times can you wage war
Taking more and more before
The blood soaked shores
Come back to haunt your greedy heart
Are you a tin can machine man
With little or no heart to feel for
Your victims in this strange war
Or are you human with eyes to see
That the soft warm flesh you cleave
Is not an illusion or video projection
But a genetic copy with only minor variations
That your enemy is not a nation
That fills its ranks with fanatic monsters
But a funhouse mirrors that reflects
The same passions and drives that move you
To do what you do
One look through this cold Chrystal clear blue lake
And you will be forced to take their pain as your own
Look just one time with an open mind and it will be known
That there is no enemy
Only unclaimed family
Cutting Rubies Mar 2016
Everything is quiet today
Wipe all your insecurities away
Close your eyes and quickly pray
The world is made from shades of gray

Your Dominant is now awake
And you will pay for each mistake
You'll never know just what he'll take
The day is young, your world's at stake

But do not worry, do not fear
The rules you got were chrystal clear
You wanted this, you volenteer
You know this need won't disappear

Don't give up control your lust
Don't forget you almost cussed
You're well, you're fine , you can not rust
In your Dominant you must trust
For Master J
Chuck Kean Oct 2022
Chrystal Shard’s

     When I was young, mother told me
My heart was fragile like Crystals
Beware of Cupids Arrows and
Annie Oakley’s shiny silver pistols

Each would prove to be deadly
If I was to cross in their path
She said to always treat women
With tender love to avoid their wrath

But don’t fall in love
Because Love is destined to fail
When that day arrives
You’ll feel the fires from Hell

As time slipped away momma’s voice
Became just an echo from the past
I heard so many stories about love
And forever it was supposed to last

So I had to learn the hard way with no
Caution to the wind or regards
My love I gave to you and now my heart
Is shattered into Crystal Shard’s

Written By: Charles Kean
Copyright © 10/27/2022
All rights reserved
Yenson Feb 2022
ploughing in semblance
languid in the malaise of hedonistic ignorance
and caressed by wilful delusions
our lepers at the gate
pour out musings of meanings in meaninglessness

whilst in plain sight
in broad daylight
in barefaced affronts
Chrystal clear to Chrystal shine  
in entrenched rigor mortis  to boot
where forth is the emotional connection that engages

when the subterfuge wheedles around throwing calling cards
and the thieves and vagabonds
their erstwhile pay-masters sit in balconies
orchestrating and conducting with reed batons
forever blowing bubbles in the ears of the lame

presenting lemmings the open drama
at the open theatre
and the hordes cheer heartily
as their chains are oiled and tightened
and they are ****** foolishly around

perchance we live in the kingdom of the blind
and like them joyless protagonists
carry vast empty allotments in our heads
whilst our minds are tutored at pubs and gaming halls
and we harbour base emotions
fashioned in the hives and the dives and dens
or the latrines of their mothers pop-up brothels
Eva Kokalj Jun 2016
darkness grows, night is deep
no one hears, no one screams
lost in dreams, no one lives
lost in fear, no one feels

there is a boy on frozen land
no ones boy, without his name
on frozen land, in sound of wind
he drops his fear, he starts to feel

darkness grows, destroying hopes
he is only one, his youth is gone
just him alone, in frozen time
he beaks the cage, he starts to run

inside his dreams she is the light
inside her mind she is frozen sun
she knows his name, she sees him run
she knows that he is The Only One
.
The Only One, who stays alive
who fights the fear, who face denies.
He follows hope, he won’t give up
His time is now, now is his how

Darkness grows with silent mind
it steals the answers of its time
when darkness grows inside the soul
the youth is gone with name of boy

Born to age of empty love
he never knew for sky above
but now he reaches stolen sense
to save her flames from golden cage

he walks for her, she dreams his sleep
she sees his soul with chrystal wings
he knows the way how to escape
when frozen gold destroys all hope

he’ll never stop, he’ll keep on wanting,
she is never lost, you cannot find her
wind is strong there is no sound
no reason why no answer how

the years go by and nothing lasts
but he is made of dust from past
the boy would cry, cry and walk
but now he stops, he starts to talk

his voice explodes into the sky
now he knows the reason why
he was born to age of night
to save the hope, to bring the light

he set her free, sun starts to shine
she tells him that he is The Only One
no ones boy now knows his name
he belongs to world of flame

his path is written deep inside
inside the mind of everyone

the night is gone, the darkness fades
now he is strong, a man with name
Yenson Jul 2019
In a feather-fine alcove with muted hymns
a gentle brook rains water over Chrystal rocks
that sways a rippling  flow down to a place unseen
overhead a leafy veil in brilliant emerald canopy loomed
as incandescent rays of sunlight glimpse by in curious peeps
here I sit in favored repose and in deft homage I see the grace
for in a sojourn of a remembrance of past times and days endings
the voice of my soul in reverent hush uttered calmly unflinchingly
Do you know, you have never intentionally harmed a fellow being
neither, I say, have you done a bad deed to another or failed to assist
Do you know I fathom no ill will in you or see the darkness of hate
you smile readily in good disposition, a cheery warmth a light heart
pray do furnish me with a knowledge of where all this breezed from
I laughed quietly in repose as my mind traverse within searchingly
From you, I replied, all from you and the Creator that made you
I am grateful!
ZACK GRAM Feb 22
I want every account a appeal imma post my **** during a **** beach or **** march imma make an only fans imma **** outside imma rub my **** so my neighbor see so stop looking you bust a nut too
Lock you away like me breakfast tucked hard ****
What they feeding me
Ask arnold an adam
Video tape before video tape
Blow my phone up stressing
Didnt you just *** ur wife in the bedroom
Catch me dead ****** imma erase you
I got that mafia gang 100 million march ****
Floyd my boi so i spoke
Zacks a king type riot
I make 8k a year audit me *****
Call a fed decatur already been overdose
Moon lazor gun
Kematite
Worthy worthy king wife top my ****
Naked **** a mansion
Naked in a castle
No little bitty
Breakfast in bed **** a ***
Gleyn oaks
Charleston boodakey
Lost count at infinite keys
I built the 1st
1st highway amazon jungle
1st gas station diesel
Bag chip radioactive
Chrystal
1 gazzillion **** a movie
5 foot an taller then godzilla
Bigger travel bags then king kong
Earth
A victim of anger
Both inside
Down and out
I clashed with the forces of reality
A scarecrow in the trash
Thrown forth from the energies
storms of "the Stranger."
Wicked beauty...
I rolled down town
A cracked out clown
Down with the sickness
I never wear my permanent frown.
I hold on
I surpass all the danger.
So look at me
Stronger and free
The sun now shines
and the new inner me.

Rap rhymes, kappler,chrystal kaye, poetry, victim of anger
Yenson Dec 2022
Randy Andy
he did say quite contrary
to the plebs of wailing baying mob
naff off you ranks of lame unwashed
I may be down and out over and cancelled
but I still dress better than you
I still eat caviar and lobster thermidor
I still drink the finest wines from Chrystal glasses
I still sleep on four poster bed with luxurious Egyptian cotton bed linens
I still have Rolls Royces and grand limousines in my garages
I still have, contrary to your beliefs, more readies at Coutts than I'll ever need
and I have the trust and allegiance of the classy mother of my sprogs
and most important of all
I do not spend my time hating and trolling any body
most especially a mob of pleb loonies and anodyne outdated Bolsheviks
naff off merrily to your workhouses and picket lines
go pick on the darkies, the immigrants and the foreigners
those are the ones, you bunch of lowlifes focus on
as brunt's of your pathetic insignificance
Put that in your ****-pipes and choke on it,
Randy Andy, he did say, and not quite contrary
Hahaha....haha....hahaha.....haha
Tis the season to be jolly
haha....ha..haha....ha
Yenson Aug 2019
I want to write a love poem
and lay words covered in wistful lavender
want lilacs from dewy mornings floating in scented air
and the rarest orchids laid in clear Chrystal at a dainty feet
in a swirling soft breeze a harpist shall thrill the melodies of Venus
and I will hold your hand and plant tender kisses crafted by dimelo
yet on days such and times like now in evenings vesper whisper low
I reached within and to constellation amiss find that my heart is gone
In my kindest chest its not to be found nor in my head does it reside
In cool moonlight sat I waiting for a falling star to show me where
by brooks and ringing springs I strolled perchance I see it there
at eve-song I wander near sepulchers to see if the pasts knows
in azure fleecy sky lit with radiant rays I looked to no avail
in fading dusk I have to own I no-longer have a heart
I want to write a love poem and live dreams of two
to share lifting smiles and a walk down the lane
waltz in a dizzy haze like windmills in fields
and bring the purest silks from far Cathay
present the sweetest ambrosia wines
with the finest dates from Sahara
these and more to grace you
alas I cannot find my heart
have searched all around
up and down and over
even in stormy nights
even in winters cold
even in the dead
of lucid night
I have lost
my heart
no more
a heart
gone

— The End —