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JayceeJellies Feb 2015
"QUIT."
"QUIT."
"QUIT!"

Is all that I can think!

Quit stomping!
You're creating unwanted anxiety.
Why are you walking so harshly!?
Are you, maybe, angry?
I don't want to know.
RBWhite Aug 2018
Will I make you see?
Will you belong to me?
Rest in my embrace,
Feel my need for change,
And I'll be your only place...
Where you'll rest in sleep,
When you come to me,
I'll be whatever you need,
I'll be the fall, catching you from the depths of despair,It won't matter, for whatever it takes,
I'll be there,
I'll be the sadness,the kiss in your tears, mending every fear,
Is my promise to make,
I'll be there,
In the light and the dark,
The warrior of your love, creating truth with my sword,
And I swear, you'll be okay,
Because I'll be there.
Originally written to be a song...
Jenay Jarvis Feb 2013
I sat shirtless
in a familiar setting,
with familiar hands
tracing along the ridges-

that wrapped across the shorelines
of my backbones-

creating melodies of
ecstasy ribbing thoroughly under translucent
films of erected skin,

All the while-
what I heard in the doorway
in that afternoon sun
was clearer
and more divine
than the immaculate prayers
of selfless Saints;

When you said
**"I can see where they cut the wings".
Jeff Stier Sep 2018
In this life
we are sculpted down
to bone
burned to cinders
and our ash
tossed without regret
into the four winds

I wish I could live.
Be a man.
Find comfort in the sun.

But every cell in my body
revolts against time
cries out against the sun
speaks in tongues
for the sole purpose
of creating an outrage
against God.

Oh Lord!
How did you make us thus?
And why?
Above all
why?

We are made metal
and in the end
alloy with the sun.

Our breath is drawn
to fuel that fire
bring life to a boil
and
if luck prevails
to wake each morning
in comfort
and with a smile.

Perhaps the last sweet smile.
Philipp K J Jan 28
The western sky sweeps
Darkness to back yards
The dawning east keeps
Designing with hues
Mornings greeting cards.
Nice to see the crews
Active in writing
Fresh magic haikus
Deep in creating
Textures and sinews
With unique mixing
Of color and lures
Interspersed musings
On honeycomb verse
Soft snowflake rhymings
Draught on fragrant wings
Beams of rainbow waves
Fuse sweetness and light
Deeds of Devine Inc
Wrought in suntan ink
Duty with delight
In morning twilight
Rex Verum Regem Jul 2018
Do you know what makes us great!?
Do you know the delphian feeling!?

I have walked on the sun and slept on the moon
Letting out my own flares
Creating my own current

We have been burnt and suffocated
Leaving ash in our wake
Multitude, overflowing; adrift, washing away

Do you know what makes us great!?
The ability the see the lights potential and make it shine seen through all the sky’s as a dying star
We are capable
Yet we long for more

Do you know the delphian feeling!?
Our ability to achieve and go beyond, encouraging greed, deception, betrayal
The Light!!
A two headed sword
Cementing history
Creating mystery
Certify Victory

The light beautiful and bright
Yet dark and mysterious.

Rex Verum Regem
TFK
Johnnie Woods Aug 2018
There are five widely known senses.
Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste.
We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more.
However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.

   If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.
   These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.
   So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.
   If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.

   Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.
   During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts).
Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.
   Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).
   The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.

   If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?
   When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?
Sebastian Macias Aug 2018
Art will come and go
And grow and be bold or ****
It will transform lives, sculpt beauty
It will capture phenomenal imagination
Lead to new places or people
Change an entire perspective
Open a closed mind,
Expand an eager mind
Art is in us all
So ladies, if the man you seek
Is unapologetic in his art
Be open to all his personalities
Help cultivate the many characters
That he may have shown you
Don't hold them under water
And fellas, be men, be gentlemen
If your woman you hold true
Has bigger wings than your ****
Don't be weary, become nurturing
A woman's fire should burn and burn
Women who are creating art is better
Than the story of creation itself
We owe it to each other to let art live
Nathan Cross Mar 2015
If happiness is from Heaven, and sadness from Hell,
I’m in-between worlds.
I’ve learned more from Hell,
then Heaven could ever tell.
Sadness etched on lips, and fingertips.
Creating it, that false sense,
of whatever Love is.
You’re always a victim, but never the culprit.
Funny to me, of "we,"
you found us first and kept it, Dear.
The voorpret we felt, as each drew near,
has now turned into fear.
Perhaps a love between you and I,
should have remained as mamihlapinatapai.
That, after all,
would have been, a happy end.

**-N.C.
Voorpret (n.) (as it is spelled) - pre-fun, the sense of enjoyment felt before a party or event takes place.
Language: Dutch.
Mamihlapinatapai (n.) (Mam-ee-la-pin-nata-pie) - the wordless look between two people who both desire something, yet are equally reluctant to initiate.
Language: Yaghan.
Rob Rutledge May 2013
The Aces check their sleeves,
Hearts rippling across the breeze.
The Queen arises
Slowly,
Torn dress ripped at the knees.

The Jack saw his fill
And quickly took his leave.
Stood trembling in a doorway,
Mind struggling to believe...

The King was an alcoholic,
It was widely known to be so,
Each eve he would sit solemn,
Wine in hand and sword on show,
Clapping to the Jokers' japes
As he danced and sang
About love and fate.
But how was the King to know?
Not two rooms away
His wife had lain,
With a smile and a *****.
Creating a cuckold and a fool...

The Jack had had enough
And promptly marched
To the throne room.
Armed with only knowledge,
Unleashes inevitable typhoon.

The winds will rise,
This house shall succumb,
Imploding inwards
Till the house is done.
And all that remains
Among ash and decay,
Broken hearts and broken spades,
Is the Jokers last laugh.
A mockingbirds call as daylight fades.
Cindra Carr Jun 2011
Eighteen misses and three survivors
Two broken marriages with one spiteful lost love
Two warring sisters and too many brothers
Numbers don’t always make the lives of another
Crocheted angels and heartfelt hugs
Gone are the days of each of those
Responsible, avoidant, and spoiled
Resentment, confusion, and miscommunication
Ghosts of the past
Harried, busy, and distant
Buy back the time
Patience, hope, and acceptance
Crowding the cast
Three lives play out creating six more
One life still here caught in time
One life locked in with ghosts of the past

cc062611
patty m Apr 2016
From the winds they were spun,
notes that formed music, ethereal and sweet,
and from the stars, poetry sifted
into melody creating song.
    . . . How gloriously the blood stag rises.
sniffing air sweet with supplication
each syllable is a warm caress
each scent a flowered note
sifting softly through air.
        She watches them take flight,
shimmering stars or merely embers
falling to earth light as rain?
How easily their touch dispels heartache,
wrapped in moonlight and blue shadow,
anointed with the fragrance of spruce.

A rose becomes a kiss whose petals caress lips
with velvet softness. . .
Silent night, the entire forest is alight with magic fire.

. . . "Yet secret is poem's end,"
she says with a conspiratorial wink,
before running swift as summer fawn
scattering petals in her wake.

Gaia, bless this fern filled home.
ablaze with starlight and magic
the creatures of earth bow to you mother
all earth is green and new,
glistening
Emma Jul 2018
She was never sure it was what she wanted,
arguing with a man who wanted her to carry a piece of them both.
But sure enough a small bump formed,
and from the first heartbeat she fell in love.

Everything from then on was tiny socks in tiny shoes,
fluffy cribs in shades of pink and blue.
Excitement and worry and fierce protection,
arms curling on top of her belly in intense affection.

But when the time came, something went horribly wrong,
when there was no screeching and crying to break the calm.
A child, still, unusually peaceful and serene,
she held the tiny shell where her baby should have been.

Everything in her life reminded her of her pain,
and nothing inside her could ever be the same.
Not even he could understand,
how she was stranded in her ****** wasteland.

Clothes and toys quickly packed in a box,
her body still creating milk for a being that would never grow.
she'd have to find a way to move on, living with the constant ache,
of the loss of a person she would never know.
Benji James Jun 2018
I remember when you were four
I caught you drawing on the wall
I couldn't get mad
Instead I just laughed
And I still have
The finger print painting
that you made
In fact I had it framed
I have every art piece you made
To remind me that your always here
with me spiritually

All These tear drops
That fall upon the page
Creating smudged ink stains
As this pen bleeds
Words drenched in sorrow
An empty heart slowly fades
Can't seem to find a way
To release all this pain
Can't seem to find the words to say
I miss you each and everyday
Can't find a logical reason to explain
Why you were taken away

Can't forgive God
For what he's done
Just hope he's
Holding you in his arms
Keeping you safe and warm
You got the voices of angels
Who can serenade
And sing you to sleep
I'll keep you safe
Inside of your dreams

We were at the hospital
I was sitting beside your bed
And you wiped the tears
Underneath my eyes
Then I heard you say
Daddy please don't cry
I like it better when you smile
So I smiled
Don't say no goodnights or goodbyes
Yeah princess your my little fighter
My inspiration, my perfection
My saviour, my hope, my strength
Your everything I am
I'll carry that with me forever

All these tear drops
That fall upon the page
Creating smudged ink stains
As this pen bleeds
Words drenched in sorrow
An empty heart slowly fades
Can't seem to find a way
To release all this pain
Can't seem to find the words to say
I miss you each and everyday
Can't find a logical reason to explain
Why you were taken away

Can't forgive God
For what he's done
Just hope he's
Holding you in his arms
Keeping you safe and warm
You got the voices of angels
Who can serenade
And sing you to sleep
I'll keep you safe
Inside of your dreams

I still remember
when I heard the doctor say
(There's no heart rate)
That line still haunts me
Your mother and I fell to the floor
Neither of us wanted to get back up
It felt like we cried for hours
And then I felt
something give me strength
Then I remembered what you said
Daddy please don't cry
I like it better when you smile
So I pulled myself back up
from the floor
Took your mother in my arms
Carried her back to the car
You were every step
You were every breath

All These tear drops
That fall upon the page
Creating smudged ink stains
As this pen bleeds
Words drenched in sorrow
An empty heart slowly fades
Can't seem to find a way
To release all this pain
Can't seem to find the words to say
I miss you each and everyday
Can't find a logical reason to explain
Why you were taken away

Can't forgive God
For what he's done
Just hope he's holding
You in his arms
Keeping you safe and warm
You got the voices of angels
Who can serenade
And sing you to sleep
And I'll keep you safe
Inside of your dreams

I still remember when
I heard the priest say
May she rest with angels
watching over her
May they share there
infinite love on high
May they protect
her blessed soul
Let the Lord take her
Into his loving arms
To keep her safe from harm
I said Amen to that princess
And I've seen you in the stars
Yeah you'll never be to far
For we are always
With in each other's hearts

All these tear drops
That fall upon the page
Creating smudged ink stains
As this pen bleeds
Words drenched in sorrow
An empty heart slowly fades
Can't seem to find a way
To release all this pain
Can't seem to find the words to say
I miss you each and everyday
Can't find a logical reason to explain
Why you were taken away

Can't forgive God
For what he's done
Just hope he's holding
You in his arms
Keeping you safe and warm
You got the voices of angels
Who can serenade
And sing you to sleep
And I'll keep you safe
Inside of your dreams

Sometimes I sit in your empty room
Imagine you playing, drawing
Creating all those games
You used to play
With your vivid imagination
A world of your creation
It's like your still here
I can feel your essence
I can feel your presence
In this place
It's where I go to relive your memory
That you left for me

All these tear drops
That fall upon the page
Creating smudged ink stains
As this pen bleeds
Words drenched in sorrow
An empty heart slowly fades
Can't seem to find a way
To release all this pain
Can't seem to find the words to say
I miss you each and everyday
Can't find a logical reason to explain
Why you were taken away

Can't forgive God
For what he's done
Just hope he's holding
You in his arms
Keeping you safe and warm
You got the voices of angels
Who can serenade
And sing you to sleep
And I'll keep you safe
Inside of your dreams

©2018 Written By Benji James
This is a fictional piece of work that I wrote back in 2015 I wanted people to experience and feel through a heart-wrenching piece of writing and this is what I came up with and the journey that I chose to take people on.
Keiya Tasire Jan 8
Joy, Fun, Laughter
Learning, Growing,
Discovering & Creating
Support & Community!
We are women!
We stand together
That all of humanity
May stand up too.

We love
We care for
We cradle
We teach and raise
Generations upon Generations
Each man and each women

Yes we stand up for all of Humanity
May man stand with us too!
For yes, are women!
We want peace.
We want kindness.
We want respect.
We value and want to be valued.
We want all to be free to live.
We want all to be free to love
In Peace.
In Harmony.
In Joy.
through the ages women took care of the ancient knowledge for health wellness birthing rearing children and loving each other through challenges then the roles of women were diminished, relinquishing it to powers that were hungry for not only the control over women but men too.  The human family became lost. Now many are waking up and calling for both men and women to stand together  and reclaim human, dignity, freedom, and the strength of family and the strength of community.
Johnnie Woods Jul 2018
Writing a poem.

There are lots of things that contribute to the outcome, the poem.
-Certain words hold a hard to describe sensation to them, they're made to evoke some feelings and also give a sense of unique kind of rhythm. Had the writer used a synonym, it wouldn't have the same impact on the reader. He's like mysterious chemist adding proper ingredients to his mixture to make it work perfectly.
-The way a writer constructs the poem leads to rhythm as well, how he decides to start a new verse that divides a sentence, the way he locates words - or even blank spaces - on the surface of sheet - the field of his performance - it all contributes to the creation of imagery. Therefore, we can see that creating a poem isn't just writing words. It's how you put them together, too. A poem that's being created, sometimes slightly wanders away from the realm of plain writing - and goes beyond.
Purcy Flaherty May 2018
I never in a thousand years thought of myself as anything, but here I am and everything that you have found favorable comes from this place.
Constantly creating just to stay in the game, I play for my work; not for my pay…
I get behind every word!
The life of the appetite! always hungry for something?
I chose words to be durable ... for better or for worse!
I sense a deep yarning.
I have an ego that's pointless.

I'm driven to create, to sing talk and lark about to help dissolve our suffering, even the trash has it's place in that!
Always hoping to reduce the eye, my work is small like me!
What my hands fall on I do willingly to be connected, to give something back.
Everything is so very; very small !
Contentment is the key to it all !
That and kindness!
Writing songs, poems ramblings for as long as I can!.
Mikoarenas Oct 2015
I've had many wishes in life.
They said they were to much to ask for.
So these are just simply some simple ones.
                                      
The feel of your luscious lips softly hugging mine.        

Our hearts completely in sync but still racing to see who can beat faster.    

A frozen tongue from over flowing nervousness.                              

And your soft fingers caringly curved between mine, creating a perfect pattern.                          

Is that too much to ask for?
Chris Neilson Sep 2016
Stopping to write words is my impulsive habit
as hopping grey squirrels cross paths with a wild rabbit

Hedge and tree sparrows creating their fun
tweeting feathered friends under a rising sun

Goats and rowing boats resting by a shady tree
donkey rides advertised that don't come for free

Mother feeding baby upon a tartan rug
a passing loved up couple sharing a hug

Ear flicking deer romping up then down
full leafed green trees turning to brown

For who knows a bell tolls at midday
not for a slight slumbering pony anyway

Passing a multicultural horticultural area
spotting an alpaca who's growing hairier

A soaking Labrador emerges from a small lake
brushing my bare lower leg in its wake

Sitting on a bench dedicated to a lost loved one
taking in the views he loved before he was gone

A picture may paint a thousand words long
but poetry captures succinctly September birdsong
It's my fortune to live close to one of the largest municipal parks in Europe (Heaton Park), this is my account of a stroll through there this unseasonably warm September day.
spysgrandson Nov 2015
LET
THERE
BE
LIGHT
a
fierce
sun ******
vapors
into
a
thunderous
sky
which
wept
sixty
sextillion
t­ears
creating
a
riddled
calibration:
the river  
time

we
came
cells
devouring
cells
metastasizing
into
li­fe
first
cruel crawlers
then
stealthy stalkers
wicked walkers  
and
finally
THE
terrible talkers
blasphemers
bending
time
asking
WHY
it
flows
?

we
are
th­ey
who
have
no
shore
to
which
to
moor
on the river,
time
what comes at 2:00 AM when I had too much chocolate
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