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Alyssa Underwood Aug 2018
We're forced, each man, to walk a trialed path—
resisted trek, uphill through blinding daze
that shrouds with crucible's perplexing haze
till fog-white skies yield quick to black clouds' wrath.
Affliction brims a thorny pack to bear
whilst dewy darkness drenches in the night,
but where is calming lamp to lend us sight?
And who will come to give us saving care?
Here through veil is heard a whisper certain,
then o'er the mountain creeps the dawning day
and with clear eyes we see the brume give way
as God retracts His theatre's curtain,
unsheathing velvet waves whose morning sheen
beyond grey mist splays vast and wondrous green.
~~~

"I will exalt You, LORD,
    for You lifted me out of the depths
    and did not let my enemies gloat over me.
LORD my God, I called to You for help,
    and You healed me.
You, LORD, brought me up from the realm of the dead;
    You spared me from going down to the pit.
Sing the praises of the LORD, you His faithful people;
    praise His holy name.
For His anger lasts only a moment,
    but His favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
    but rejoicing comes in the morning.
When I felt secure, I said,
    'I will never be shaken.'
LORD, when You favored me,
    You made my royal mountain stand firm;
but when You hid Your face,
    I was dismayed.
To You, LORD, I called;
    to the Lord I cried for mercy:
'What is gained if I am silenced,
    if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise You?
    Will it proclaim Your faithfulness?
Hear, LORD, and be merciful to me;
    LORD, be my help.'
You turned my wailing into dancing;
    You removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing Your praises and not be silent.
    LORD my God, I will praise You forever."

~ Psalm 30

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1464179/the-beauty-behind-the-fog/
grace Dec 2017
you* *should sleep.

i can't. are you   tired?

no, i wanna talk to you.

sunlight streaming through windows,
       soft skin,
             a dream with warm brown eyes,
a sleepy snowfall of kisses and snowflakes stuck to eyelashes,
   honey spilling over the floor,
              love spilling through lips,
sleep stuck under fingernails and pulling mouths into long drawn out yawns,
              the night leaving its soft bruises under eyes,
hearts beating slow as the sun creeps its way up through the sky,
              time dripping like molasses

goodnight

goodnight

i love you

*i  love you too
MicMag Jul 2018
I've witnessed a beauty
I can't describe
That speaks to my soul
As it swims through my eyes
The silent sounds
Sneak into my mind
The taste lingers on
Leaving sweetness behind
The scent creeps up
To slowly remind
Of the touch that once felt
Makes all else fade
Til only your beauty
Pure beauty remains

There's nothing else
Your beauty remains
Old found poem.
B L Costello Jun 16
“Hurry, come in”
he said at the door,
The Jehovah witness never heard that before,
Anxious to carry on “God’s plan”,
He never noticed the blood on his hands,
Not till he notice the drops on the floor,
How this would go,
No one was sure,
“Okay”,
Said his host,
“I don’t believe...that God is here or he loves me”
The witness nodded,
"I understand...May I go and wash my hands”?,
“No, not the bathroom…….”
“The kitchen, please...That room, really embarrasses me”,
The witness said,
"I'm embarrassed too, I don’t know if he loves me or you"!
The host replied “Do You know…..what I've done”
Are you judging me?
Are you having fun?"
“No, I am too selfish”
The witness confessed,
“I don’t really care about your mess,
"I can still hear her cry..."
"I tore her dress..."
"But she had such a pretty mouth,"
"No, you should never judge....
Or let strangers into your house”
©B L Costello 2019
Playing around with 2 part dialogue. Your comments are greatly appreciated, and often make my day.
Sara Kellie Dec 2017
A subtle panic like a slow death creeps, the anxiety within me, for here's where it sleeps.
Quietly loud enough to cover the sound, of the glassware you've thrown, now strewn all around.
Rocking all positive lullaby's to sleep, ensuring all menacing thoughts I'm to keep.
It's adept like the teen who's stayed out beyond curfew, sneaks in armed with oceans with which it will drown you.
All because of the lies that were said, went in through your ears and lived in your head.
The life you once had held aloft like a prize, you breathe your last breath and then close your eyes.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Just feelings but I feel them.
Debbie Brindley Aug 2018
My heart is breaking
Can you not hear
****** tears weep silently
today
life is to hard to bare
Through shattered shards
pockets of sadness
seep in
darkness creeps deeper
under my skin
Run from these feelings
but go where
My heart is breaking

This life's Harsh Lesson
Well yeah

IT'S HERE

In my face
Poking holes in my personal space
It hurts so bad when unable to fix
When life throws tragedy
into the mix
My heart is breaking
What can I do
Nothing
But be here
beside the one I hold true
Feeling sad
Rickie Louis Jan 2012
It seems as we get older, a piece of us gets lost.
Desires fill our hearts, it seems those pieces are the cost.
What must we do to find them, or fill that broken void.
Do we ever get them back, or are they just destroyed.
As age creeps up, and time ticks by, and awkwardness begins,
It's hope I find a heart like mine, who's pieces just fit in.
An old unfinished thought..
gracie Jul 2017
Perhaps we never truly met
until I heard your voice of flowers
spill hydrangeas across the carpet
of my bedroom at 3 am.

Those whispers of nothingness
that smell oh so sweetly in the night
begin to wither away as sunrise creeps in
through the window I forgot to close tight.
patty m Feb 2015
Silly fools,
touching the planchette
as it invades the haunts of spirits and demons
their dangerous interaction
pointing to blackened letters
or the answers yes or no.

Open gateway something relentless creeps to the surface
unbeknownst to anyone.  
Do they think this is a game, this summoning?

Bluesman, playing his guitar
sings about a shadowy man
on a dark road and the bargains he makes.
Moonless skies and rumbling trains
a strange twisting in guts
as a crows caw spreading shiny wings.

Shadows, the long road is filled with shadow,
filigreed limbs darkening fleeting time and the trains with
their black smoky smudge muffling secrets.

A strange man turns up, like a carney in a traveling show
to show us a frightening future.
Spreading prophesies of horrible events along with the demise of millions, with demons gnawing human flesh.
Then too there was the promise of the dead rising;
exhumed bodies, an army of zombies marching.

Old men smoke their cigarettes, lungs crackling
in phlegmy coughs, rheumy eyes filled with pain
as they watch the children **** in frenzied dance
their heads spinning clockwise. . .  
The train chugs off in the distance
as the last illusion crumbles into a dark and rotting hole.

We no longer see the stranger.
as the song comes to an end,
yet disquieting things skitter on the edge of reason
as they slither through our fear.
Up ahead looms a fiery god staying
trajectories of doom and damnation,
while the Bluesman strums his old guitar
on a ghost train going nowhere.
ArielMarriel Aug 2018
Why does poetry haunt me?
What does it want from me?
It lurks in the corners of my head.
It hides under the bed.

It whispers in the night so I can’t sleep.
It torments, taunts and creeps.

It used to be so innocent.
But not anymore.

I fear poetry is becoming
something I abhor.
**** you, poetry.
Luna Nov 2015
I remember how deserted that road was
My journey into darkness and stillness
It creeps into my core
Afraid of the endless void.

But then there was light
Accompanied by glitters of the night
It enveloped my doubt with desire
And showered my fears with fire

Til the time I wandered through
*the endless void.
Luna
Andrew May 2017
When I'm with other people
Their mere presence reflects my character
Their strength validates me as an individual
Friends sneak away and doubt creeps in
Who am I without my companion justifiers?
Nobody
So I'm going to build an army
And we're going to storm the walls of hatred
They'll throw their bombs
******, ******, ****
Usually more specialized weapons appear as well
All trying to use shame to strip us of our very humanity
We disarm their shame with pride
Not pride in the way one is born or lives
But pride in the face of those who tell us we should feel ashamed
Those hate filled walls will be trampled by our friendship
Once we've infiltrated the pitch black city
We'll seize their holy temple
And find me
Naked, crying, alone
We'll pick me up and dust me off
After all, I have an army to build
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
The scarceness of truth and beauty of this life
has ****** me dry of breath
Its ugliness has risen to try our hearts,
filling us with a blackness too awful to utter.

Love and goodness have been banned along with God,
blown away like chaff in the wind.
How many cheeks to turn?
How many cheeks to turn?

Into my soul their blackness creeps
giving voice to the cry within.  
Pack wolves wait for signs of weakness as scarlet billows
cloud the waters of small town America.

Have we forgotten kindness and humanity?  
They’ve been flushed down the toilet of
public education.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Butch Decatoria Aug 2018
Yeah.

Awake past midnight

An insomniac in a world of sleepers,

Creeps with god-awful

Dreams

Where’re the dreamers?

I see

Empty minds & broken hearts

Carriers of virulent Dark

Our shadows

Gorging on the world

Our souls

Lost in Oz

Praying to a wizard

Who’s a known fraud.

Fracking a

Way to never-was

We who claim to know

Love

Prey

Hand to mouth / hand in glove

The bare-knuckle

Fist

Fights to exist

To matter then still better -yet…

Who in this hell knows?

This place is estranged

Yeah?

Can’t wait to see tomorrow

Now that I’m awake

I Just couldn’t wait…

All I want is

Peace on / for Earth - today!

Oh Gaia - namaste.



So yeah...?
Sammie wells Feb 2013
She runs through the woods
panting for breath,
needing to rest

she listens out

dogs barking

they're growing closer
eager for blood.

She hears them in the distance,
Men,
she lets out a cry,
   
  weaving round tree trunks
going under Bush,  
they draw closer,
Her lungs feel crushed.

Her beautiful red coat
is covered in mud,
twigs and leafs,
what ever's under foot,

terror curses through her vains,
she's been chased for hours
feeling drained.

Startled by a blow on a horn
she comes to a Holt,
petrified she urinates
as footsteps fall in behind her

they're here!

Cornered now
her hair stands on end,
tears drop
as death creeps upon her,
She has no time...

The hounds pounce!
  
tearing
tugging
And ripping

They do their masters bidding!


Fox hunting a fun sport for all...

(SW)
Nicole Alyssia Oct 2015
My breath is but a whimper
A faint hollow sound-
Inspiration, passion
Where are you hiding?

October is the cruelest month
For nostalgia creeps at every corner
Following, lurking
Seeping through my unconscious

You creep into my nightmares
I just can't seem to escape
Anxiety, cold sweats
If I didn't like it id be lying.

For months, I've felt dead
I hate you, yet I crave you
You set my pulse on fire
Yet I'm the last to admit I want this.
Apathy Jul 2014
The storm has gone
It's eerily quiet
As darkness creeps in
I try not to fight it.

My body is broken
****** and mangled
I hug my knees closer
My heartstrings all tangled.

My skin is stripped away
Taking my protection
My thoughts are dull rusty blades
Cutting deep, horrid infections.
Please, don't leave me alone...
Art is a hell of a *******
drug, I tell you
it surreptitiously creeps
into you in a way that is
utterly indecipherable,

and lures you deep;
deep into it as the void above...

For the eye loves
what it sees,
and what's been seen
by the eye
is rather fascinating to the soul,

Amidst all these
Overwhelming emotions,
a harmonic converge
between the eye and the soul
is created,

Fostering a sui generis ecstatic rhapsody!
Pagan Paul Nov 2018
.
A cloud falls from the sky,
a lead balloon of precipitation,
and cuddles the ground
like a long lost lover.
Dripping its cargo,
shedding tears along the way,
leaving a trail of damp memory
and a calm balm
for the Earth.

And a candle flickers
on a lonely table,
as a pen drifts across lines,
filling meaningless words
that never
convey the depths of separation.
The flame flares
as a waft, a draft,
creeps in a crack under the door,
adding a poignant touch
to the melancholy of atmosphere.
Gripping the pen with delicate unease,
the hubbub drowns inwards,
doubt rises in ascendancy,
the pen falls,
like a discarded relationship,
and the meaningless words
stop.




© Pagan Paul (21/11/18)
.
My brain is still on meltdown :(
.
Axion Prelude Jan 2018
The somber whispers of defeat haunt the wind; my skin reels at its chilling touch

Harmony concedes to an epithet of solemn solitude; it creeps within my very bones
typhany Oct 2013
emotions take shifts in my soul
and sadness likes to work
9[0] hour weeks
singing soft somethings
and harboring instability.

sadness creeps in
with little cat feet,
shedding his fur
matted with misery,
leaving self-destructive thoughts
as he tip-toes along,
and then crashes
all at once
but lands on four feet,
and comes back again
for his 9[0] hour weeks
There's just something about Fall.
Trees become naked and leaves
changing colors, it's just beautiful.
Perfect weather to wander
around the city and admire
my surroundings.
Feeling inspired and closing my
eyes and taking a deep breath
and inhaling all the fresh air.
Somehow remembering that
perfect moment with him
we walked around a Creek
and well long story short
he asked to kiss me and we
did. Talk about perfect timing,
the sun was going down and
the skies were pink with cotton
candy clouds. He's long gone
now, but he still creeps up on my mind once in a while.
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