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Hadiy Syakir Sep 2018
no one is subscribing
to the universal affection
draining subconscious ailment
that needs no treatment
quaking with fear
shaking with revulsion
looking to prolong
an hour, a minute
stretching one seconds
into ten seconds
where are we going,
past the streetlights
the crossroads
the commotion
inside the canal boat
that surrounds and accompanies
this road -
will it ends one day,
sometimes, somewhere
and brings an end
to the entire's generation
guilt and disease?
I'm living in my mind,
walking a road I have paved.
Listening to the pounding,
of my heart that can't be saved;
an empty hole I had caved,
long before my journey started,
long before my hope strained.
Waiting for a fleeting step,
wishing for a second thought,
but still emptiness lurks,
where the love had fought,
from how the voices talked.
I'm waiting for a different place,
of what my mind is not.
A saddened memoir,
that spoke forgotten loss.
I'm falling deeper down,
where all the pain was washed,
and the guilt caught.
In a hidden valley of emotion,
of punishing thoughts.
Still I'm walking onward;
following the road.
People told me to hold caution,
for it should not be condoned.
I can't call it my own,
because this road that I am taking,
can never be my home--
An older poem fixed.
All feedback is welcome!
LexiSully Jan 2016
She stands at a cross roads, looking from left to right, trying to decide which path to take

She turns to the left, where she sees a dark and dismal sky, where the path breaks up into tiny shards of gravel

She then turns to the right, where she sees a pleasant blue sky marked with wispy white clouds, where the path transforms into even blocks of cobblestone

Could she, struck with life's hardships, caught in life's desolation, choose the path which will lead her home?

Her eyes drift to and fro, summing up both paths, attempting to decide on just one

Should she choose a path of dark or light, tragedy or happiness, cloudiness or sunshine?

Her mind confused, she kneels on the ground, folds her arms, and sends a message from her heart to the One who will guide her home.
SimpleWritings Dec 2018
Sometimes she realizes she has no reason to stay
And that makes her have the perfect reason to go

But
He needs you, says love
He loves you, says compassion
He's a good man, says empathy
It would destroy him, says guilt
It would make him hate you, says rejection
It would cause heartache, says anguish
You won't function without him, says safety
You can't throw away all those years, says remorse
You can't just leave him, says loyalty
What if you regret it, asks grief
What if you'll never find love again, asks loneliness
What if this is just a phase, asks confusion

11/10/2015
derailed-trains Mar 2017
i don't even know
where to start
maybe we can
start from my heart
i've used that
line before
in another page
from another time
when i still dreamt
of going away
leaving seemed such
a good idea
if it is then why
do i regret waking
up in the morning
knowing that i'm
miles away from
the things that hurt?
running away felt
more like running
backwards—
running back to
what i'm running
away from
leaving seemed
such a good idea
until it wasn't
until i wanted to
go back home
again
so isn't it ironic?
to want to leave
but regret leaving?
blkorchid Jun 2018
one day my heart fell
across the ocean
then it washed away
and became one with the sea
while the birds flew
and joined each other in harmony
my mind got lost there
like the clouds underneath
the ribbons of my feet
they just disappeared
i can't seem to find it
but at least i'm still here.
© rainbows and sunshine 2018
Rohan Press Dec 2018
Expressions lax at the crossroads.

Their worn tracks are like
little smiles (stained, muddied,
darkened) on evening's
soft purchase.

— I'm clutching dry lips
on these bleeding
little mouths.

— I'm remembering
to be as stars:

so closely far away from you.
the crossroads is where i kept my composure.

where you—oh, sweet you—looked up at me.
#m
Jesse stillwater Nov 2018
The river forks at big stone eddy
rending currents meandering course,  
its silence speaks not with forked tongue
as kismet's swirling eddies abide
     as if time immemorial;
     a river naturally cleaved
in two separate distinct directions
befallen destiny  without a choice


Spinning round and round in big stone eddy,
time just drifting by in the throes
of doubt — high water rising
beyond the bounds of earth
taking drowning souls up to the sky


Choking on a mouthful of unanswered questions,
suffocating on the parting words left unsaid;
distilling life into poetry hew from being —
trickling out like the spilled out sky —
taken down to the empty riverbed
leave lay' til it's all washed away,
in the music of the pourin' down rain


Freedom embodies metaphysical incarnations
riding the prevailing currents it can't control
Gravity-gathered  down to the shoreline,
manifest reclamation after the deluge,
from somewhere far above the high-water mark


Swallowed by all the darkness woe betides,
thinking you carry such a weight to hold...
It seems all got a handful of sand to toss
up into the wind to seed the clouds
The totality of eclipsing silence grows
that rent the stillness of a dream
of peace on an eroding shoreline


In an Eddy of Expectations & Disappointment
dark waters will ebb and flow,
imponderable as drowning hope,
leaving it all out there to dry after the rain

       believing in your heart —
        the best is yet to come


  Jesse Stillwater ... November 2018
Thank you for reading
In walking down the
Sunlit paths, through
The young trees and
The old, through the
Dark vine and the
Flowered stem--my
Eyes see the road of
My passing; yet my
Mind stumbles in
The forwards sea:
The present passes
Over me.
thehighermind Jan 2018
They said many thing
Things that sometimes meant something.
But never did i regret not listening to them,
Even after that have worked.


The drugs always worked
They are a lying through their teeth,
They got methods of getting you back.
But once i get back on my feet,
Im saying **** u,
Im no longer in your grip.

But for now i stand defeated,
Knowing the extreme,
When will it be my turn
To turn my head
And say *******,
IM CLEAN
Rowan S Jan 21
Time is holding out on me
Promising solutions to old conflicts
Granting a reprieve to pain
A contract on her terms
And me, equine-like
Forever chasing the assurance
That one day
I'll wake up
And not have this serpent 'round my heart
But for now
It remains a hair's breadth out of reach

              -a crossroads contract
Nigist Oct 2018
Response to  @writing.prompt.s
Submission Piece "The First Time"

If I could go back & meet you for the first time would I?

Would I?
Would I walk away?
Would you pull me to stay?
- like you did the first time?
Because

The First time
We vibed, i tried
Hard
Not to be awkward.
Cause i talk too much
& i'm not heard or seem small
When I stand tall
& show no feelings at all
Because it was the first time

The First time
We lied
Too
Close together
I debated whether
To throw *** or make this last
Not go so fast
But we moved slow
Enough
To go with the flow
Because it was the first time

The First time
I cried, you wiped
Tears
From my eyes, then smiled
To say we'd grow old & gray
Before walking away
You just couldn't stay
Because it was the first time


The First Time
Since we intertwined
With feelings we hide
There was a decline
In the connection
We had
Ignoring red flags
Just tryna get back
To the first time

So Would I?
Could I?
Should I?

Meet you again like
the first time
Cause I
never meant to stay
I
Should've walked away
The First Time.

5:06 PM

#TheHIMCollection
*The first piece from The HIM Collection.
~ F.Y.I. I just made that up but it sounds good huh?
El oh el, trying to break the ice here guys.
This is my first time.
Share, Love, Inspire
Louise Jan 27
It was 3 A.M. in the heart of the metro,
although by the crossroads of Katipunan,
Aurora Blvd and CP Garcia,
the music of time seems to sigh to a stop.
And there by the corner, an orchestra.
Our hearts, on the other hand,
were out in the open
but the cold weather got the best of us.
Our sleepy eyes were giving us away.
You had to pull me closer
and I had to warm up your hands.
Have I told you before?
You have the hands that could unsettle
but your eyes tells of a whole different story.
A tale I was too terrified to start reading, perhaps.
But a favorite of mine it has become in time.
Moments with you are as raw and surreal
as moments can be;
they were just once imaginations and inspirations for
those bad poems I used to write years ago.
Not that my poems now are good but the ideas I can now grasp,
they're inside my realm, within my reach.
Your far-fetched dreams are statement patches
on my denim jacket while my craziest of hopes
are tucked safely inside every pocket of your dad's
hand-me-down vintage jeans.
"He got this from Vietnam in the 80's",
you uttered between a puff of smoke
and before I could start talking about the war yet again,
just like in the movies,
you started asking me about my dad, his whereabouts,
'just anything' about him;
something a lover has never done before,
something a friend wouldn't even bother hearing about.
You were waiting intently yet so patiently
for my response as you threw away the **** of your cigarette.
Right then and there,
I swear I was in rock bottom in love with you.
Should I reach for your lips first then proceed to tell you?
Or should I tell you first and then stop to stare at your lips longingly before finally reaching
out to kiss you, like in the movies, too?
For the very first time, I was in rendezvous with the story
and the abiding pain that comes with its telling.
I almost liked the melancholy lying in its very idea.
I was at peace talking about it,
almost as if it wasn't my own story to tell.
You made everything so easy, like throwing up acid
after about twelve celebratory shots of Stolichnaya.
You listened, you didn't just hear me out but you listened
like no one did before
and right then and there,
I swear I could give you the world.
And I started doing so by giving you the bricks
from the ruins of the walls around my heart.
The same bricks that I shattered
and played my own heart with.
I even had the faint chance to understand myself,
but not as much as you did.
I saw some things I've never seen before
but not as clearly as you did.
I stopped mid-sentence, first to catch my breath,
second to recollect myself
and I wasn't very sure about the third
if I wanted to break down
or if I wanted to reach for your lips,
finally pull you in for a kiss but to ****, you knew
what I needed better.
You took my hand, kissed it tenderly before pulling me in.
You let my head rest on your lap like I would have with my dad, should he stayed.
And I told myself "there's no turning back".
You found me by the crossroads
and you made me tiptoe happily through
the speeding vehicles that once killed me
and destroyed parts of me that I could never take back
but I would do it all over again.
I would live only to die again.
For half the time, you were waiting for me on the
other side of the road but for the latter,
you impatiently crossed the other half of the road
to meet me in the middle,
so we could cross back to safety together.
I could double whatever price I had to pay
when I saw your face getting closer
and when you finally touched me,
I was willing to embrace the glory of bankruptcy.
Right then and there I swear I could do everything for you
and I started doing so by forcing my heart
with all its might to try beating once more
and it did, to my surprise, the loudest it ever has.
I didn't have to hold the shards for too long
with my already bleeding and wary hands
because you held them with me.
You held me.
And just like that, I am whole again.
We were singing along to Strawberry Fields Forever,
exchanging soft, contented sighs while wishing
Walrus didn't have to close so soon as 2 A.M.
One year ago the 23rd of December I stood at the crossroads to life having
just lost me
wife
and with no place to go with and very little prospects of surviving my
loss
But one year on I've come back to the crossroads to find my chosen road
and
to where It will lead me I've made my choice and
I'll stay
on that road till I come to the end
Losing my wife I felt like I was stood at a cross roads to live four roads but only could  chose one, I think I've chose
the right one
Logan Robertson Jul 2018
there's a fisherman down by the sea
sitting on the wharf
watching the sun sink into the western sky
a frown frames his house
he looks out the window
at his pole, gear
and especially that of his net
emptiness
metaphors that weigh on him
uprooting his garden
a garden of no delight
one lonely row of forget me not
and regret
all wilting
his foundation
lost
never found or realized
he pauses
runs his hand over his pole
like a belt without any notches
his grip slipping into the abyss
as the last of the orange
sinks
bleeds also
at where the sea  meets the sky
where his day slowly turns to night
somewhere out there he sees his image
in nature's mirror
at his crossroads
for deeply
and some may say shallowly
he looks onto the sea one last time
and he means what he says
and throws his fishing gear in
tears welling in his eye
as he watches his teddybear sink
lips gurgling
seemingly asking why
... why
he answers back
there were no fish or bites
in his lonely sea
or wind at his back
... there
his window opens wider
the sea not singing or dancing
he sees the ambient light
correlations
... here

Logan Robertson

7/06/2018
If one reads between the lines the poem reads like a eulogy with a
harbinger to come.
Kale Dec 2018
Once again I’m here
stuck at the crossroads
dreaming of chasing
the dreams that are forever
Fleeting
bounded by the comfort of the past  
where unhappiness reigned free

With path should I choose
It so hard to be free
I just want to take a path
That lets me be me
lovejunkie Dec 2018
i'm reaching
kicking silence
i'm stretching
silent running

and i'm reaching
for your little hand
& really miss your
pale blue eyes

but i'm stretching,
not for spun-gold hair,
nor glowing smile,
nor loving stare...

you float above
small helplessness
on surfaces of blackness;
endless colour, endlessly,
in which i'm surely drowning
turn around
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bMc9lAjiYCI
Ken Pepiton Mar 2018
Anom o ly

Non-named, never imagined much less realized

The left hand can't know what the right is doing,
it's a brain matter, grey area, may be a way to
imagine your unique. task, yours, not doable from here

We can do things as us that we never imagine alone.

Is there a need to negate, wait, think,
must one do any act?
Now, I see, emulating Socrates is thought easier than
emulating Jesus. Christ, you know that ain't easy, eh?

Death is the friend of being. Things change from time to time
but, you know knowledge grows in two directions,
the dark part is not evil.
evil is as evil does. The roots that ever live in the earth,
those roots are required, requirements.

Left brain uses the right hand. Don't tell the left-hand
that nearly all it's skill in serving
and being used right,
is used up by the other side.
Right or wrong, is not a chiral question,  nor is good or bad. ******* Phillips's head screws with a butter knife is wrong.
It can be done right, but not if you turn it the wrong way.
Drawing on the right side of my brain has always symbolized a crossroads experience, in my mind.
I mean I draw, realistically, with my right hand, left brain.
Maybe, brains are no easier to analyze than time in an immaterial medium of messaging.

I am certain life wins.
Meaning everything you think life means.
Do you think evil is required as an activity for life to actively be?
I doubt that.
Death fixes everything. Fret not. Wait.

First make room, what was the Bronte word? Penetrium, no, cut n paste
[A]t once it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously - I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason - Coleridge, for instance, would let go by a fine isolated verisimilitude caught from the Penetralium of mystery, from being incapable of remaining content with half-knowledge.

From <https://www.etymonline.com/columns/post/cloud-of-uknowing>

Happiness demands an agreement
Joy is in process, I agree, I am happy, haps happen and I notic
ISSAI MASHINGO Jul 2014
When brothers go to war there are no captives/
When brothers go to war we find only casualties/
The in explicable war between Palestine and Israel,/
In this poem i hope that peace would prevail/
Countries at the crossroads of heaven and ****/
Their war has lasted for ages/
Pain and revenge bitterness and hate/
When brothers go to war who dares to mediate/
Who knows of their fate who knows whose right/
Its bee like this for so many years/
Who will be there to wipe their tears/
Who will be there to give hope to those in fear/
Who will dare to go and interfere/
When brothers go to war know that the end is near/
Hold on and sanctify your soul in prayer/
When brothers go to war who is the villain who is the saint/
The war of Israel and Palestine stained in red paint/
A revelation to the faint hearted/
A lesson to the boastful and egocentric/
Innocent lives lost when brothers go to war/
A gentle answer turns away wrath/
But a harsh word stirs up anger/
A hot tempered man stirs up dissension/
But a patient man calms a quarrel/
When brothers go to war who dares mediate
(c) ISSAI
for the war within!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Pyrrha Sep 2018
Love is the crossroads of two garden paths
The thing about loving is that it is selfless
I will want to love you more and think of myself less
So I choose to walk your path and tend to your beautiful flora
While I forsake my own in your love and care
It is you and I who decide when we wilt and when we flourish

But will I let it wilt in the end?
july hearne Jul 2018
after the crossroads
the wrong turns
and taken risks not worth taking

there came a time in my life
when nothing came next

no highways calling out for me
just painted rainbow crosswalks
for staying put

i stayed inside a lot
the more i hid
the dirtier the carpet got

it was cheap and poorly cut
to begin with, the dirt i was daring to become filth didn't help

the more i hated the cost of living
the dirtier the carpet got
the richer jeff bezos got

so ****** i thought

it was a daily thought
my own personal seventieth seven

antichrist and nothing
but crowds to fill his headquarters
hairless cat of a shepherd and his reusable sheep
i stayed inside a lot

so ****** i thought
the more i hid
the dirtier the carpet got
we can only hope
a subsidized rocket ship
can only launch so high
Shadow Puppet Mar 2018
'Cause that is the only thing that makes me happy
Besides everything else
In spite of me

I'm attracted to the things that hurt me the most
I love when the pain burns
Burns your memory into my mind

'Cause I forget everything
But I do not forgive enough

The boxes of ******* are piling up in
front of my door

I can not take anymore

Walking past the memorial that was
created while I was in a heap

Trapped in my own mind wishing
the one burning was me

How could I forget such a thing

That night I went back to sleep

So now I sing
but I am at a loss for words

All I hear is sirens
In the grand scheme of things
I have no control

Is that scary to you?
Am I afraid of me?

I am facing my ashes
Time passes
This is everlasting

but everything is temporary
None of it is real

And I feel it through the lost lullaby
the birds sing in the morning

'Cause these warnings
are the nightmares that will not let me sleep

These are the thoughts that imprison me
Late nights drinking coffee
I think back to the times I held my peace

I think back to the times
chicken nuggets were the only things
concerning my nose

****** Crossroads

No one knows I am stuck
in this lost lullaby
3.11.18
Akira Chinen Jun 2018
Our hearts become abandoned churches
housing the broken stained glass colors
shattered in the reflection
of who we used to dream ourselves to be
while being afraid
to face what we have become

and we have become monsters
much worse than any of the ones
we use to fear
living beneath our beds
and in our closest
and down dark alleys

men who ****** truth
children who **** children
mothers who grieve for attention
fathers who hope for death
clergymen who stalk prey
prayers of hate
spoiled milk and rotten flesh
no longer the kin of kind
only the kings of misery

and then petition the empty sky
for the answer of how we became so cruel
that we would abandon our hearts
with the churches along roads
too overgrown to find or travel down

looking for the devil at the crossroads
so we have someone else to blame
for the shameful mess we have made
of who we use to dream ourselves to be
Donall Dempsey Oct 2018
LOST IN FRANCE

In the distance
a dog throws its voice

so it seems
the trees are barking.

Sun and shadow
playing tag

between rows and rows
of trees.

France is made of
landscape and light.

I feel as if I am
walking in a painting

that is wet yet.

I nothing but
a mobile little smudge.

I drink in the light
as if my soul thirsted for it.

Now a yellow dog
leaves its post

to chase me half way
down its road.

Now a Yorkie
guards the crossroads.

Here a sheepdog
silently trails me

until it has successfully
seen me off its turf.

I smile sheepishly.

I, lost and found
all at the one time.

Finally the road turns and
the village runs out to meet me.

I, now only lost
in wonder.
Jean Sullivan Oct 2017
In my younger years I followed the word of God,
Blindly, because my mother said he was truth. The only truth.
I knew the non-believers go to ****,
and the good church goers to Heaven.
Obviously, I wanted to go to heaven,
**** sounded rather unpleasant.
But as I grew older I started to question the existence of God, ****, and Heaven.
I'm now at a crossroads, where I simply don't know.
And when I question the reality of a God in our midst my gut starts to churn and my brains in a twist,
how could logic and Heaven co-exist?
Big Virge Nov 2014
Ya know ......

When your art's your closest friend
It can tear you apart .....
If you won't just bend
To become a ... "famous star" ...
  
But ...
I guess like Common says ...
  
One day ... oh yes ... !!!
It'll all make sense ...
The struggles that we go through
To simply make ... progress ...
Or taste what's called ... "Success" ...
  
You see .....
you've got to keep your head ...
when facing those with less ...
especially when you're striving
to make your art transcend ...
even when they're driving ...
their Lexus or their Benz ...
  
Remember ... in the end
"True Talent" ... outshines them
because they're ... "Talentless"
  
The fools who move ...
with shady crews ...
who choose to use ...
people ... like tools
usually refuse ...
to face ... "The Truth" ...
  
One day it's True ...
they're bound to lose ...
and pay their dues ...
because of lies ...
they have contrived ...
to have their lives ...
in the ... "Limelight" ...
  
See they're not so nice ... !!!
whether girls or guys ...
  
guys who have ...
No ***** Size ... !!!!!
  
or girls who like to ...
spread their thighs ...
tend to use ...
their devious minds ...
to get a slice ...
of the five-star life ...
by hitching ... rides ...
and ... being sly ...
  
So don't be surprised ...
You tend to find
that ... "talentless mules" ...
"avoid" ... art school ...
  
If you love your art ...
could you ever choose ...
to follow the path ...
these people do ... ???
  
Would you choose ... to bend over
for a NEW ... Range Rover ... !?!
  
or .......
  
Spread your thighs ... ???
to get a contract signed ... ???
  
See ... many have fallen ...
by the wayside ...
and have then withdrawn ...
from the publics' eyes ...
leaving the public ...
  
wondering ...... ??? .......
  
....... " Why " ........ !?!
  
Some have paid the ultimate price
and lost their lives ...
or tried suicide ...
before it was time ...
to end their lives ... !!!
  
The price of fame ...
is getting high ...
just like ... "Price Hikes" ...
  
What would you pay ... ?
to see your face ...
all over the place ...
  
Would you sell your soul ...
to become well-known ... ???
  
Quite a few now do ...
and that's no joke ... !!!
They end up broke ...
with the devil in tow ...
  
"Louis-Cypher" ... knows ...
No Soul ... No Show ... !!!!!
just the Final Crossroads ....
If you don't believe me ....
  
Ask ... "Ralph Macchio !!!!!"
  
Life it seems ...
can be like a movie ...
what you choose to seek ...
may become ... "Your Destiny !!!" ...
  
So please beware ...
what you choose to dream ...
may result in ...  
  
... "Nightmares !!!" ...
  
Be careful what you wish for ... !!!
cos it may come true ...
The Wishmaster ... proves
that it's ... "NOT" ... all good ... !!!
  
The world's not yours ... !!!
You're just a **** ...
so ... make smart moves ...
and leave the devil ... forlorn ... !!!
  
Stay true to your art ...
and you'll get rewards ...
You don't have to be a star ...
to receive ... awards ...
  
Awards can be received ...
in many forms ...
trust me ... believe ...
  
If your art has a cause ...
One day you'll see ...
your art-form ... SOAR ... !!!!!
  
but it may come from ...
an unlikely source ... ???
  
Someone might say ...
that you've made their day
and have changed their ways
from a path of hate
to a " Higher Place " ... !!!
where their misplaced hates ...
now been .... "Erased" ....
  
No amount of pay ...
can replicate ...
that feeling of ...
affecting change ...
in someone who ...
has never met you ... !!!!!
  
A feeling that nice ...
truly has ... No Price ...
when what you've done ...
has ... "Touched Someone" ...
  
No Fakeness, Lies or Fabrication
Creation designed through Reflection
is art that has no ... Pretensions ...
  
Heed these words ...
and you will learn ...
how to cherish your art ...
it can help you breathe ...
just like your heart ...
  
but ... can tear you "apart" ... !!!
like I said in this piece ...
at the very start ... !!!!!
  
Too many now abuse ...
the arts for loot ...
a fancy car or designer suit ... !?!
or just to prove ...
that they're better than you ... !!!
  
Well, whilst they lie ...
stick to my guide ...
and you will find ...
that you'll dent their pride
because it's ... "The Truth" ...
from which ... they hide
  
They'll try to deny ....
til' the day they die ....
but one day they'll find ...
their way to the light ...
  
The Light ... that shines ...
on those ... inclined ...
to stay true ... to the finish ...
from the very ... start ...
  
to this Beautiful Thing ....
  
that we call ................
  
...... " Art " .................
So much surrounds, artistic mouths, and artistic grounds, that earn artistry and artists ..... pounds .....
So, here are a few of my views, on, artistic moves ......
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