Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Bre Marie Aug 2016
My brain was clouded with all of the smoke.

I took another **** laughing at the stupid jokes.

Forgetting the promisees that we had once spoke.

I felt as if something was broke...

So I took another ****.

To forget we ever spoke
I loved her but I loved Mary Jane a bit to much she kept me sane
Seanathon Mar 2017
The clouds racing across the sky
Remind me that my chance to live
My window into this varied life
Is rather short-lived
And that one day, as I certainly know
I'll be able to fly across the sky
Beside the clouds
But never high enough to look down
At least with this particular set of eyes
Can't wait...
Traveler Jan 2017
Define the state of nothingness

Empty pictures fill no mind
The possibilities are less than less

For the non-existence kind
...
Traveler Tim
L Aug 2018
I have to remember. I have to remember
this. for as long as I can. for forever.
I have to.   I cant let this go.   I cant let this feeling

                    go.
Umi Apr 2018
To death in love!
The eye of ones heart closes for their beloved, their most precious treasure of them all clouded by emotions stored for them deep within
Unanswered love leads to a stinging mind of the subscocious, caught and rose by a burning ember of feelings, turning into an inferno,
Blinded by it, they will not acknowledge the falsities of their partner, nor their mistakes or even their treaciousness, as for them he is perfect, conciously imaged as the ideal and the best they ever had,
But no! God forbids, they learn about the art of blinding love while they sink to the bottom of a sea of passion and affection, in a last remote of a courtain call to simple yet manifest carelessness,
Small lies lead to grand falsities overlooked by a noncaring closed eye
Rekindled in a dream they rather follow their instincs than the truth,
Illusions cast by embers of love deep within the unconcious, like a courtain to be blocked from all light, holding on to dear of what is loved and cherished, praised and adored, an emotion leading stray,
The philosophy of a hated person, would be to never close the open eye of ones heart, so you fall not too hard when you begin to love,
But when all falls apart, realisation is like the thorns of countless roses
It is the heart sign of selfless love.

~ Umi
CK Baker Dec 2016
six lanes
in a sight line
past the cedar shims
and trim tempered insert
past the washed mural
and water stained tiles

covered eyes
fight for focus
over cork strung ties
and dark distant bridges
foot crawlers on lemon pegs
teaming
under clouded halogen light  

dreamers contend
in a variation of chant
(throwing it off in a
drawl sequence)
a glimpse of the guard
and warm towel assignment
forge comforting relief
in a task filled day
T Sep 2018
The days are getting shorter....and the nights oh so long
Now I think I know what I am doing wrong....the love that I have for this woman has clouded my mind....thus is the reason I can't just unwind
The things I must do for myself I can't do if I don't clear my head.....then only then my story can be read.....I know what your thinking we have heard this all before.....I have worked on things so this I am sure.....I know it will not take long....after I get her back I will sing her that song.....you know the one..she means so much more than everything under the sun
At night when I look to the sky....I make a wish that I will back with her before I die...I always pick the brightest one cause I know lt is you.....and forever this is what I will do
When the sun goes dim and I am unable to write....I look to the stars and they give me the light
I will ask the almighty to give me the strength to get through this.....for my wish is to At least to enjoy one more kiss.....I hope and pray that I get my chance ......to prove my love is real....and it is more than just how I feel...to lose it forever is not a choice believe me....so now it is up to me and if I can focus on what needs to be done....please just know this I will no longer turn and run
#for it is real
ConnectHook Sep 2015
☪   ☭   ☮

Oh beautiful for specious lies
where Christless values reign;
for superficial battle cries
above the muted strain:
Diversity, diversity
God hides His face from thee –
and frown he should, while planethood
distracts humanity.

How sad it is when victim groups
monopolize the floor;
enabling the marginals
to agitate for more.
Diversity, diversity,
Your queer agenda rules –
with Balkanizing tendencies
imposed on witless tools.

Degenerate in decadence
the ailing eagle flies;
in spirals of irrelevance
through clouded toxic skies…
Diversity, diversity
the Left defines your terms –
the weakened body politic
grows sicker as it squirms.

Oh Lord we need a miracle
before the patient fails;
celestial intervention please
to purge us of what ails.
Diversity, diversity
We shall not overcome –
Unless the Lord reveal His word
twixt here and Kingdom Come…
♫♪ Sung to the tune of...PROGRESS !! ♪

I don't believe you even read this.

              ☪☭ ☮
<Loud as you can say it>
I am Outlaw!
         -call me Pirate!
I live such freedom,
         all souls admire it!
The awful God,
        has judged my soul,
Weighs his measure,
          I'll pay my toll!

<In a high-pitched voice>
The sailor's way,
        path unknown,
Stars are clouded,
        nothing shown?
The sea's are high,
        a storm is here,
Davey Jones' Locker,
        my home is near.

<Loud again, yell it>
There is no heaven,
        there is no hell,
Life on seas,
        the seas they swell,
Fish scales on arms,
         scales on my legs,
Heart born free,
         dread-locked and dregs!

I am Outlaw!
          -call me Pirate!
Lost lives redeemed,
          some should admire it,
The ship upended,
          all hands to drown,
In Davey Jones' Locker,
          a peaceful sound...

<In a high-pitched voice>
The sailor's way,
        path unknown,
Stars are clouded,
        nothing shown?
My time has ended,
        fate is near,
Davey Jones' Locker,
        my death is here.

<Loud again, yell it>
I am Outlaw!
         -call me Pirate!
A man of valor,
          some do admire it.

I am Outlaw!
          -call me Pirate!
A dreadful life,
           though some desire it.

I am Outlaw!
          -call me Pirate!
To Davey Jones' Locker,
          my deeds require it.

I am Outlaw!
          -call me Pirate!

I AM OUTLAW!
          -CALL ME PIRATE!

I am Outlaw!!
          -call me Pirate!
My life on the ocean,
          my God inside it.
BOOM!
Dead Rose One Aug 2017
consciously, willfully, I wish it

quietly the Sunday, the sun day, drifts toward,
in its natural game, set, overmatched,
the foregone conclusion, nightfall diminishment

the water songfully swishes,
as the tide departs for places unknown, this then, now
the only natural authorized aural apparition,
the power boats renounce their normal noisy conditioning,
honoring their silenced, under-sail brethren,
as well as admitting their noises disfigure
the fast approaching majesty of the end of
our summer seasoning of humanity

consciously, willfully, I wish it

once again, lush is the quietude,^
now given up, surrendered and surceased to wonder,
how come I to write of these moments so oft,
thenever-ending quest to re-inscribe it on my sensibilities,
in vainglorious hopes that this stamping will last, be the last,
see me through the turgid frigidity of my Lucifer life,
come the fall, the winter, the early dark,
the daylight's brevity, the hurricane season of the mind,
that...need I say more?

consciously, willfully, I wish it

the particular white cloud formation of the moment at hand,
shall stay in place,  be the capstone of my summer living vision,
become permanent part and parcel
of the sclera, the white of my eyes, and when
I will write, soon enough,
my vision white weeping clouded,
you will weep knowingly, sympathetically

consciously, willfully,
I wish for that as well*

8/27/17
6:35pm
ryn Oct 2014
Arrange my mind's galaxies and planets.

Sedate angry asteroids and burning comets.

Align for me my heart's constellations.

Clear the clouded nebulae in my intentions.

Turn the moon gently to look upon me,

So I may find the sea of tranquillity...


                              Tonight.
Clouded, dishevelled mind. Want peace...
Brian Hoffman Mar 26
The words can’t escape me
I’m bending and I’m breaking
I’m holding onto a thin line
Grasping onto the little sanity I have left
Death is always near
There are often times I wish I wasn’t here
Dreams and reality seem to fade
I don’t know what’s real anymore it feels like I’m never awake
Can this all be a dream for goodness sake
Depression swoops in and out of my life and drains me
Anxiety knows exactly how to take me
Deep into this pit of doubt and despair
Wishing sometimes I had an angel to just take me there
See the light on the end of the tunnel that I hold onto so near
This isn’t a poem about suicide so no worries there now, dear
It’s more about how the days used to blossom and now about how I’m feeling numb inside with no one left to care
I mean truly what’s the point in life?
Sick of hearing everything works out right
My bipolar mind can’t make it out tonight
Dowsing myself in pills and whiskey
Hoping for a moment these feelings of guilt slip me
It’s hard when no one truly understands, just hoping one day someone will truly comprehend
I started smoking again to help with the anxiety that haunts my thoughts
But sadly nicotine might be what ends up killing me and I’ll be the one to haunt
Breath a breathe deeply into my lungs corroding my insides
I rather feel the pain from smoking than feeling nothing, but numb inside
**** my bipolar state of mind
Mood swings raging from highs to lows
I can’t chase these demons they sure know how to drown me until I have little room for growth
I’m not asking for pity, but just for someone to hold me for a second or two
I apologize my skies are grey not blue
Tell me it’s okay
That I’ll be okay
I keep reminding myself that I’m not my illness and yet it still taunts me
But how can one truly be themselves when their days are often clouded?
Where is my mind? I’m mentally, emotionally and physically drained
Often jaded
Happiness turns to sadness, sadness turns to anger
I feel bitter
Tired of watching as my life splinters
Here I am left alone hoping the ends near
I miss living my own life. Take me back to the days where happiness and better times didn’t tend to fade away. Tired of feeling drained.
Samantha Nguyen Jul 2018
sometimes things that are so amazing, so wonderful…
can confuse me.
the emotions fog up the window
          (my brain is clouded with thoughts)
when the fog clears, there are beautiful
blue butterflies flying around
          (um...how’d they get there.).
that’s what confuses me.
could those be the same butterflies
from my stomach that
          makes me nervous around you.
or are they a pigment of my imaginations,
feelings that aren’t true and made up.
(a soft warning of pain to come)
(an assurance of how beautiful i really am)
(a demon ready to devour me)
what is it.
i name this little blue—
confusion.
she’s beautiful but quiet.
maybe i need her company.
eventually the truth will hit her
instead of hitting the window
          (my brain is a pane of glass).
you can leave this dungeon, papillon.
fly! fly away with your gratefulness!
be free!
          (my imagination runs wild
          like these butterflies)
freedom awaits.
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2013
How I Observed the Day of Atonement

If you are unfamiliar with day and its observance,
See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yom_Kippur

In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my creator who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing, none harsher,

We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, adirondacke thrones,
We overlooked,
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded and sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants, the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogos, in this,
Palace of Perfect Solitude.

Amiable did we chat,
I of family, this and that.

He, wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For he had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books.

For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor no defender in residence,
For we exchange these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession.

He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine.

He returned this courtesy.

Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.

A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, he said that he had yet to find
A beverage that his kind of thirst could slake.
For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past.

Too much killing, this year,
It tires me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less, if at all.

Thanks for Kol Nidre, he plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.

If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood, undisguised as praying.

A schooner to the dock did appear,
For him it attended, for him, it waited,
Sails, both black and white.

He stood to depart, my arms-grasped, taken, he graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, my strengths, my divinity.

I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet when next we meet, please.

Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.

He, for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting  beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never deception,

Only He resting easy, when he atoned before me,
And I gave him his absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
mine
September  2013
Worldeater May 2016
There’s a moon like sunrise in her
Glass clouded obsidian eyes
That twinkle like jewel dew
Drops clinging to wind branches.
Yes you:
An essence under Sunday rainfall.

There was a lack of being until the conclusion:
A murmuration in the night and the water
In the glass and the ship that was slowly sinking.
You sang a serenade.
Donna Aug 2018
Fluffy clouds float by
Many change into faces
People everywhere
:)  the sun shined for a little while today , saw lots of lovely fluffy clouds and pieces of blue sky x
I would drink those tears
though they were an ocean
I would clear your clouded sky
with a faithful friend's devotion
I would hug and hold you close
while you break with deep emotion
I would drink those tears
for Kate
All rights reserved by the author
ryn Jan 2015
I feel your heart's heavy
and your mind trailing off to places
I'm not allowed to go...
- Dajena M


My body...
Lays battered under unforgiving weather
I amble forth with unsure
In search of pastures much greener

My face...
Wears my despair
Mirrors wouldn't recognise
Reflecting back a faceless stare

My eyes...
Stung red with tears
Conveying the murmurs from my soul
Clouded by despondence that never clears

My limbs...
Bent awkward with time
Arms hang lifeless; legs sore from bearing
Load of my past of crime

My mind...
Trails in the wake of fallen dreams
Searching for an oasis
Instead finding only brackish streams

My soul...
Holds the weight of an anvil
Still I trudge to the farthest reaches
Through barren lands where all is still

My heart...
Yet beats with rhythm so true
It keeps me alive
It gifts to me...

**you...
Line take off Dajena M's "I... is hier", for Frank Ruland's, "Let's Do A Line!" challenge.

I am big fan of Dajena's poems and very much inspired by the depth of her writes.

I chose the line I did because I could relate to the message being conveyed. More often than not, we get caught in a place where we're left with only questions. We know the "what" but not the "why", "when" and "how". We only know so much therefore we can only afford to speculate. Then poem just wrote itself.

Thank you so much Ms. D for your continuous support and being such an inspiration!
Ruth Cardenas Aug 2018
This anxious mind keeps me awake
Can't close my eyes since I am afraid
A heavy feeling; can't carry the weight
Recurring tics slowly drive me insane

A clouded mind hinders my sight
Now second guessing what keeps me alive
The loneliest place constructed with time
Blades cut through my heart so I'm hollow inside
Sheldon Dsouza Mar 2015
It’s the beginning of the monsoons and of the week,
A clouded chilly one with the clouds blanketing the sun.
I’m struggling to get out of bed and into my daily routine,
Running late as always, there’s never time for fun.

The first rains of the season were not welcomed with a smile,
Cars, Buses and mopeds splashing and spraying water all around.
People cursing the rains and others on the roads,
Racing to the office is not as easy as it may sound.

It’s a dark dull day with no sunshine to light my path,
And the rain to rob me of the dryness I had left.  
As a child I remember this being different in every way,
The rain bringing me cheer and happiness, never indulging in theft.

Stopping at a red light, all wet and soggy,
I see this small figure making way between the vehicles standing.
On every window and door she knocked with enthusiasm,
This little girl hopping around in every puddle landing.

Trying to sell the water lilies she had in her hand,
Not letting the frowns or the drops of rain her spirit lower.
She shines off all the hate and the disgust,
Through the muck and water walking to sell this pretty flower.

All of the dullness and gloom she got rid.
A smile on my face and in my heart she brought,
This little girl with those bright water lilies,
Like the flower she sold, all eyes and hearts she caught.

Bringing smiles and spreading fragrances in times so dull,
The water lily blooms in the muck and conditions degrading.
So did this little ******* this dark rainy day,
Returning cheer and happiness drained in the rain by blooming.
Jordan Rowan Mar 2016
I used to sing to the morning but it's at the end of the day
I used to sing to the mountains but they all washed away
I think of the lessons I've learned along the way
When my memory fails, they'll all slip away

I had a dream but the morning came to pass
Clouded up my mind with nothing but the past
When you've fallen in love, you'll always remember that
When you fall out, you feel like you'll never get it back

I played to the millions all with empty eyes
I played to a friend who sat and cried
All is forgiven with a kiss and a sigh
When the realization hits that life passes by

I cared enough but it only brought me down
As long as I'm alive, I'll always be around
Send me requests and I'll carry them out
I'll be your friend until all your lights go down
From time alone is man defined
 As the diffused flash of a holy duality.
Brother to ripe olives, a likeness of reality,
 Lucid in face, yet mortally blind.

Ebbing spirit and cohorts around,
 Pluck these eyes with a degree of care.
For feeling your hands lays one bare—
 To know its touch is to know the mound.

Our embrace is a wicked aspect of fate—
 An animal breeze clouded as amity.
Some recoil at their light, at their brevity,
 Yet these ponderers fall ever straight.

What star beams to wilting lovers
 Who adjoin for this brief act and jest?
A way-lighting keeper for ease and rest,
 Or a gaze behind for what love uncovers?

What limb hangs and endures to bind
 This dream and moon-this eve entire?
When wind lofts slumbers' soothing lyre,
 Number it among the illusions of the mind.

What cruel earth cracks with greeting
 While swallowing our infant yearning?
O coming mass, O firmament ever-churning,
 Bound and seize us! We are fleeting!-

Fleeting into the dance of earthly gloom,
 Winding about—pining behind the flesh-
Reifying the world in gesture and thresh.
 What sum am I, branch—again in bloom?
"Continual awareness of all time and space, of the size and lifespan of the things around us. A grape seed in infinite space. A half twist of a corkscrew against eternity."
—Marcus Aurelius
Sorry that it took over a week for me to upload this after my last post; I've been sick lately and haven't found the energy for much of anything. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this one- it might look better if you turn your phone if you're on mobile.
tired and depressed
lost and abandoned
no love
no hope
until one day i stumbled on a drink that made me feel alive
don't let the name depressant fool you
it slows my reactions the thoughts
the voices that tell me i'm worthless
alcohol was the solution i have been searching for
even better it was always there
always there.... and if i drink a little more the high lasts a little longer
i was all alone and hurt
until alcohol came and clouded everything
it was the escape i needed
and that is how i was made an alcoholic
i'm reading a psychology book.... i don't drink.
Next page