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Austine Jun 2014
Remember that stretch in the crack of dawn
Late we both were so I thought I had companion
I ran fast towards you and deafeningly called on
But you walked past me in the hallway and waved a yawn

Remember those mornings in our classroom
When there was no other feels than gloom
You’d suddenly crack a joke and keep us abloom
You’d give us a good laugh and avert the doom

Remember the countless lunch times we shared
You’d go to the canteen and I’d have mine prepared
Then you’d come to me and ask for candy I had spared
I’d hand you one or maybe two as if I was compelled

Remember the sunlit afternoons, humid and hot
Obliged to take a nap but there’s no problem on that
When I couldn’t, I’d look out the window overlooking a vacant lot
And some random times I’d find myself glancing at your spot

Remember the twilight spent at some place
You came to me and all of a sudden broke into my own space
I went forth to desist looking at your adorable face
But you went after me and caught me in a chase

Remember that night when everything was easy
We talked for hours and not cared about the others, really
You leaned closer and made me breathe barely
You and me were finally we and I couldn’t help but be happy

Remember some other nights when we had it rough
When we felt like giving up and everything just wasn’t enough
But we unceasingly came out  tough
We swept every worry and hurdle in our path with a laugh

Remember that other night in the busy city
Under the beautiful night sky in the hour so early
You walked beside me and held my hand tightly
It was cold and windy but with you I felt summery

There was also a night I can remember precisely
Your eyes were locked on mine deeply
I repeatedly swore I’d hold you forever dearly
And you whispered, “Don’t worry, sweetie, till doomsday you got me.”

But as much as I would like the night to never end
The sun didn’t want the moon, stars and serene darkness to extend
It rose above quickly and it hurt so bad to see it transcend
Hence I woke up that morning being just your old friend.
Grey Rose Apr 2021
Strange Skeleton Knight
Why do you fight?

You're so fragile
Yet you take on my burdens without being asked
Why must you be so eager to die on my behalf?

Don't you deserve to live too?

Mr Skeleton Knight
Why don’t you cry?

You never make a sound
Yet your sadness echoes deafeningly
Do your bones not feel cold out in the dark?
Does not being able to shed tears make you unable to release your sadness?

Can I cry on your behalf?

Sir Skeleton Knight
What did you do with your heart?

Did you tear it out to stop yourself from feeling?
Did you give it away along with the rest of yourself?
Even someone without flesh and organs shouldn't look so empty inside
Why can't you get your heart back?

Can I give you mine instead?

Noble Skeleton Knight
Do you like the grave I've dug you?

I'm glad that you haven't buried yourself yet
But I'm sure you don't feel the same way
Then why don’t you let your soul rest?
Wouldn't the warm dirt hug you more than anyone else has?

I don’t think I can help you anymore.

Beloved Skeleton Knight
I’ve killed myself

I hope you don't think that your existence was a tragedy
Though in the end I never managed to make you feel alive even once
I’ve told them to bury me next to your grave
Promise me that you'll stay at my side
Atleast now we can be cold and empty together.

Why do you still look so sad?
Mymai Yuan Sep 2010
I swirled my fingertips on the surface of the water and sent a message across with shiny, glossy ripples that grew slowly, and gracefully. He kneeled on the other side of the moonlit pond and watched as the ripples from my fingertips reached him. He cupped the ripples of the water into his palm and drank the cold water, sighing happily.
“What does it taste like?” I whispered hoarsely, as loud as I dared to be while knowing we would be reprimanded fiercely for sneaking out of the huts at this time of night.
“Love” he called back.
I burst out laughing in panting breaths and tried to stifle the noise with my fists. I heard him bellow out, and the echoes rang freely through the woods before he quickly shoved his face into the water and laughed in there, the bubbles of his laughter surfacing violently.
“You idiot” I whispered joyfully when he brought his head up from the water, his dark hair curled against his forehead, “I didn’t even write anything to do with love. I wrote how foolish of a boy you are.”
“And you still stick with me so that’s love isn’t it?” he teased me. His finger tips swirled in the water for a minute. “Your turn to taste, Masra”
I waited till the ripples hit the side of the pond and quickly dipped my tongue in and lapped the water. I pursed my lips, pretending to debate what his message was. The surface of the black water was littered with reflection of the stars. It was so beautiful that I momentarily forgot the little game we were playing and gasped, “Oh stars!”
He took a quick intake of breath and stared up at me with wide eyes. “Really?” he asked in an unbelieving tone.
“What do you mean?”
“Stars?” he asked again, sounding like a sweet little confused child.
“Yes!” I laughed. “Stars!” and I splashed the surface of the water to show him.
He shook his head. “I can’t believe you could read, I mean, taste that... That’s incredible…”
It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. I decided to play along anyways and whispered dramatically, “Yeah, but I didn’t know what you were trying to say”
“A million stones on fire with wishes
Yet the brightest star is not up there” he recited his favorite lines from an old love poem.
“You are disgustingly soppy” I got up from kneeling by the pond and treaded softly on the dry leaves so that they wouldn’t crackle so loud. Reaching him, I kneeled down beside him and ran my fingers through his curly wet locks. His dark eyelashes were still wet with water and the chestnut eyes gleamed brightly.
I curled into his lap comfortably like a cat and he rolled over with me lying on top, while his strong arms held me. I buried my face into the skin of his beautiful brown neck and inhaled the sweet, musky smell. Reab smoothed my hair before murmuring huskily, “Why do you always do that?”
“It smells like you, the old Reab smell. It makes me feel safe and warm and happy.”
“I love you.”
“Do you think we’ll always be happy like this?” I asked, speaking of my deepest fear.
“I will never stop loving you, if that’s what you mean. And if we are caught sneaking out, I’m pretty sure no one would be too surprised. They all know from the way I look at you I intend to marry you when Chief thinks you’re old enough and finally say okay.”
I laughed at the thought of Chief being able to give me away.
With my parents both gone since I was a baby, Chief had adopted me as his daughter and he loved me tremendously for all his lecturing ways. Reab laughed a little too but without any fear of Chief rejecting him. Chief loved Reab too and approved of us most of the time.
“Do you remember when he caught us making ‘sheep-eyes’ at each other as he put it and he was furious?” We chuckled at the memory of Chief turning storm on us, declaring we were too young.
“What would he say now?” he turned my face to face his and kissed me for a while, with the wind blowing the tendrils of my hair on his face. He smiled mid-way through our kiss, for the soft strands of my hair on his face always tickled him.
I didn’t want to continue with my question after that happy moment. But I had to; he was the only man who would tell me the truth. “Our tribe has enemies. We have many men, many strong men… but I know we are in a constant threat. I have seen the midnight meetings you men hold when you think we are asleep and more weapons that normal are being made nowadays.”
He looked at me with sad eyes; with so much love and desire burning in them that my own eyes began to swell up with tears. I fluttered my lids to get rid of the wetness but he reached over and caught a tear on his pinky and licked it. Then he licked all the tears off my face and I giggled as his tongue flicked over the tearstains on my cheeks.
“The tribe is in some danger. You and I are not. I will love you forever.” I shook my head and was about to interrupt with another fearful question when he continued, “You know what Chief always says. We don’t live just one life. I loved you since we were babies. You know what I think?”
“What?” I asked, his voice slightly soothing my fears.
“I think I’ve known you before. There’s no way you can know someone the way I know you in the short life time we’ve lived. This is not the first time we’ve met.”
“You’re not worried if a battle comes we won’t be together?”
“No.” he answered and kissed my forehead.
“Why?” I couldn’t get rid off the idea of such a terrible fate.
“I think…” he struggled to get the words out, “I think we’ll always be together somehow. Masra, I’m… I’m just not afraid”
We lay there for a while until I fell asleep in his arms. I was awoken a little later with him shaking me softly for us to sneak back into our own huts.
There was a little advantage in having both my parents gone. Lela, my cousin who shared the hut with me, stirred only a little as I crept back in.



“I’ve been hearing from your sister that lately you have been waking very late. I don’t approve of this laziness.” Chief said to me as I sat on the floor of his hut, admiring the new spear he had just made. I sharpened the stone a little for him and smiled up brightly. His face softened. Chief was not usually an easy person to get around, but he always said he loved me more than was good for me. “I saw Reab today. He didn’t look so alert and awake.”
My mind clicked into place as I realized Chief had his suspicions. “Reab?” I inquired with an innocent expression. “Is he ill?”
“He just looked tired.” Chief replied with raised eyebrows, his eyes were a little puzzled. I had fooled him for now.
I balanced the spear in my hand. “You hold a spear too well for a woman” he grunted. “Spending too much time with me, I suppose. You should spend more time with your sister Lela. It would have been different if your mother was still alive. She would’ve taught you some womanly manners.”
“I think I’m feminine enough.”
“Look at you, blundering around after the men of the village, killing creatures and planning your attack even better than my men.”
“I don’t plan Chief; it just comes to me”
“Making it even worst!” he cried with a hidden pride.
I burst out laughing and bade him good night. He ruffled my hair fondly. “You go to sleep now Masra. Get some good sleep. Tell Reab that too” his eyes sparkled wickedly. Perhaps I hadn’t fooled him after all.
“You tell Reab, won’t you? I won’t see him till tomorrow morning.” I replied demurely.



And here passed, long uneventful days with the occasional nights that Reab and I would sneak out of the huts to spend the cool nights together and forcing ourselves out of bed at the crack of dawn along with the villagers, exhausted but happy. I suspected Chief still had his own wary thoughts, but with a denial somewhere in his mind, he did not seek to expose the truth or confine stricter rules on me through Lela. The few months that went by, I watched as Reab grew from a boy to a man.
A man I loved more than life itself.
One night, as I was lying in his arms I poked a thumb against his forehead and breathed out happily before nestling into his chest.
“What?” he asked me, amused at my random, loving behavior.
“I like to check that you’re real.”
He had no words in reply to that but tightened his hold on me, and swiftly kissed my dark hair with a sudden passion. His fingers caressed my head, and he inhaled the flowery perfume from the brown strands clutched in his hand.
“I wish you a long and happy life.” I whispered softly, afraid of the feelings that were surging through me.
“With you.” he replied back.
“No. Not just with me… anywhere… as long as you’re happy.”
“So with you then…”
Some days after that night, when it was pouring so furiously everyone had retreated back into their huts to cozy up, gossip, and flirt while warming their hands on hot wooden mugs we snuck off and climbed a special tree.
It was special because it was a giant, and very old with gnarled branches and knobs that made it easy to grip on with our toes, but the trunk itself was as smooth as a baby’s skin. It overlooked most of the village and the canopy was so thick it protected us from the rain except for the small wet drops that would escape through.
The tree stood apart from the woods and was very difficult to get to. One had to climb several other trees to reach it, ducking in and out of the tangle of branches up in the canopy like a maze. Only Reab and I had spent enough time up there to discover the path in reaching it. We were yet to discover how to reach it without getting scratches and bleeding scabs all over our skin.
Every time the thunder roared deafeningly Reab would yell, “I love you!” and no one could hear but Reab, the heavens, our special little tree and I.
He was so beautiful; like a lithe dangerous animal and his muscles were graceful and strong as he climbed around on the branches. I wished for the rest of our days to be like this and I remembered the lines he had recited to me only a little while ago,
““A million stones on fire with wishes
Yet the brightest star is not up there”

*

A distant roar erupted. The stars had not granted my wish, they had granted my deepest fear. The sound of drums rumbled steadily over the noise of screaming villagers, over the noise of animal fear in those I loved and lived with.
It was the sign that our enemies were finally in sight. We had been waiting for there attack all year long.
Lela grabbed me by the arm. “The chief says all women must flee!” she gasped and choked. Her eyes were leaking with tears. I stubbornly shook away her hand and I could see the desperateness growing in her eyes.
“There is no time to cry Lela”, I tried saying confidently but my voice shook. “Where is Reab?”
Even in her hysterical state she did not want to answer the question I already knew the answer to. “Where is Reab?” I repeated. When she did not reply I narrowed my eyes.
In the face of danger I had never been woman-like and cowered.
Chief had raised me stare any wild beast straight into its cold, predatory eyes before slaying it. I was not unfamiliar to thrusting a jagged dagger into the heart of danger.
I would not leave a man I loved behind like the running footsteps of women carrying their babies, pushing old people along, and dragging wailing children were doing.
I would not leave and I would fight when I could.
Lela stared at me as if she’d just read my mind.  “You may not fight Masra!” she cried. I pushed her aside.
“Help the women evacuate! Grab a baby, help a village elderly; just do it Lela!” I yelled violently and ran through the women who were running towards the woods.
I shoved women aside to get to the battle. My long legs tangled with the other woman, and I fell on my knees. They were both bleeding badly when I got up. Running with my knees stinging, a huge man suddenly grabbed me and swung me to face him. For one moment, I thought he was Reab and I clutched onto him; then I saw it was Chief, and I clutched to him even tighter.
“Chief, please don’t make me go away! Please let me fight with you!” I was screeching and begging with no sanity left in me.
He smiled weakly, “I wanted you to come without little Lela, I knew you would be headed this way. I have not much time Masra, my men need me. I have something I want to give you to make sure you will be safe enough to last through this war if I die,” he spoke softly.
I shook my head and hugged him. “But- but you- you wont!”
Chief gave me a sad smile. “I don’t know that.”
His brown hands reached to his neck and tugged a simple black leather string free. He shoved it into my hands. “Remember this, Masra. Just say to it, ‘Jack, Jack, shine the light’ when you feel there is nobody left in the world for you. Be ready for what happens. Goodbye Masra…”
He touched my cheek and warmth spread though me, momentarily making me feel safe.
“Why Jack?” I asked wretchedly, in a detached curiosity and trying to prolong the moment that Chief would be safe.
Jack was a commoner’s name; no one in our tribe was called Jack. We all had strong, powerful names that spoke of destiny, truth and purity.
“Chief Traben!” a man cried from the noises of surging mob of warriors.
“Go, Masra, go!” Chief said hurriedly, and pushed me away before whipping out of sight.
Chief had been like my best friend, my big brother and … my father. I wanted to fight with him, for him. But I knew in doing that, I would go against his wishes, and that was the last thing I would ever want to do.
A sudden thought made me realize I did not have to fight. I just had to be there or I would **** somebody in my own village for leaving behind loved ones. I knotted the black leather string determinedly on my neck.
I ran to the bottom of a slippery tree and climbed up to the canopy and began to duck in and out, swinging between and onto branches in the maze-like chaos of sticks and concentrated leaves to get to the special tree Reab and I shared.
I hid among the thick tangle; so thick no arrows would be able to pierce me and no enemy would see me. Growling and cursing myself, I remembered I carried no weapons with me and hastily patted my clothing to check again.
Then I remembered it would be useless to have any weapons unless I intended to go down there, for the abundant tangle worked both ways. A spear thrown from where I was would only get stuck in the dense branches below.
I could see the battle though, and that was enough: for now. I searched vainly for Reab, scampering along the top, trying to find where Reab was. I was wild with fury for him for coming.
He was just a boy, newly turned a man. He could still run and hide without shame. When I had him back in my arms again, I was sure to hit him and berate him for choosing to fight for me instead of being safe for me.
It never occurred to me once that Reab might be dead.
It still didn’t occur to me when I saw his body lying on the dirt below, with a man from a village - someone I couldn’t recognize from this height- dragging him. I shouted out, careless of the arrows of enemies.
For the first time in my life, I was terrified of blood: the blood that was seeping out of the wound on his stomach. I didn’t think he was dead; I believed he was injured and I thought of all the herbal concoctions I knew that I could paste over the wound to clean and heal it.
It still didn’t occur to me Reab was dead when the man left him by the bottom of a tree to return and fight. The men in our village did not leave those who could be healed. They stayed and helped them heal to the best of their ability before hiding their healing bodies’ safe in a bush. They only left behind those they could do no more for.
I trembled at anger in the neglect one of our men villagers had shown Reab; the disrespect in it. I would **** him if he were not killing our enemy. Somehow, in the wild pulsing of my body, I found myself climbing down and creeping stealthily to where Reab was and pulling him to safety in a bush.
When he was safe in the bushes, I held him and whispered to him that I was here. I said hold on Reab and I would go and make sure he was safe. I was sobbing. I could not comprehend what was happening for my mind had gone numb and blank.
How could a man who I loved so much bleed so much? All I knew was Reab was not moving in my arms and he must be terribly hurt.
I pressed my fingers to the blood on his stomach. I knew no man could have survived such a wound and so much lo
Every single madness is in my soul,
and fires like t'ose of a tempestuous sea-
are but raging within me;
scratching and tearing
t'is faith of mine so badly
Behind t'ese livid; and torpid
Dull afternoon airs.
Ah, stupid reasons, please go away-
and stun thy own flimsy day
But leave every one of thy bright promise
about thee;
Oh, just here-yet eternally-
everything t'at is as superb
as t'is often-hated hysterical world.
But only th' ones with humbleness!
And before thou retreat-imbue my soul
with silky greatness once more;
As I shalt salute thy carelessness
No matter what shalt happen
But steal not my love out of me;
let him stay like t'at and sleep by me
Until our tales come and greet
Unmarred evenness
And I; dare to spread my sore heart lazily
Under yon distant umbrella
of our oblivious heavens.

I hath the volition to touch th' stars,
And perhaps dream, dream highly
all over again
Of regaining thy love,
and rolling suspiciously
about and into thy waiting arms,
under our liberated celestial blankets
of clouds and its surfaceless haze.
Which might now and then smirk at us;
But before our ignorance rigidly
retreat away; and vanish pallidly into
its own threads
of prim; but unforgivable vanity.
Ah! I shalt but forever dream again
of all yon awesomeness,
and insist on devouring th' tasteful
Ye' immortal madness of thy princedom.
I imagine thy touches-and t'ose feverish scents
of thy fingers, and lavish hands
Free of boredom, but tainted with wisdom
And being sunk deeply in thy justice
Which insofar as it hath been enabled-
been hovering deafeningly in and about me.
Ah! I shalt be th' first one, and maiden
Who maketh thy irresoluteness decisive,
and turneth thy doubtful precisions
once more submissive!
I shalt become thy torch, and lips,
and guiding star!
I shalt bear thy ******,
and be thy own earthly phantom;
Be with me shalt be thy candlelight;
which is as strong as envious daylight
and by whom I shalt remove thy fright
As far as my dreams go with th' night
And visit and fend for thee
In thy portrait
and thy invigorating dreams.
I shalt be thy surprise;
and be a companion to thy delight
As how I shalt seek
and glory in thy pleasure;
Be lost in thy pride
and feel merciful to be thy treasure
I shalt deprave thy greed of its life
and make to thy grave,
one most beloved, and conspicuous wife.
Ah, thou art too striking!
Thy stunning voice fills me with madness-
and shakes my spines from head to toe,
But kills my sorrow and burns my sadness,
cleanses up my sins and blesses me anew.
Thou befriendeth my pride;
and my atrocious passion;
thou listeneth to my heart
and rinseth tears off its horizon.

Ah! So no wonder now
My madness loses its pride-
Overriding pride, t'at at times
becomes pregnant with such arrogance
So t'at despised it is, even by divine spies
sent down to t'is earth by majestic Lord.
What a delight within me it is to see thee-
and watch another brimful
of thy laughter-ah; thou art as captivating
as a little red-cheeked boy
Who sanguinely greeted me
Down th' farms
With a flow of madly auburn hair,
and smiles as agreeable
as t'at morn's bashful sunny air.
Ah, thou, who art even more adorable
than t'is lurid poem of mine;
stained with th' red colour-as it is,
of my own madness-and a tenacious judgment
of my senses,
T'ese merry dreams of thee are but too vicious
As they make me sweet-unbearably sweet,
in th' entire course
Of yon upcoming flirtatious night;
and tease me most whenst I'm awake
with loving chills so painstakingly crafted
about my face.
O, my lover!
My equanimious, long-sought, and
Sagitarius lover!
Thy naive, but sweet-spirited soul,
is as cheerful and frank;
but troublesome and scanty still
And within one terrific; yet ubiquitous
blink of th' hungered eye
Thou shalt sweep and slay away again;
my rigid; whilst disconcerted, charms.
And so how is at heart I am dreamily-
ye' desperately dedicated to thee;
Though far I am from thee-
as how thou defiantly-from me;
And so never may we sing-or argue in unison;
To utter neither choruses; nor grouped ballads
of marriage;
Dreams are but our sole tower and maze;
And morns all over th' earth, our single haste.

And such! Such a gaze of thine
Is addictive to me like white whine
For 'tis forever my melancholy tyranny;
In my selfish world-full of picturesque indignation
And its dearest remorse
and tranquil superfluity.
Birds t'at never fly;
And lilies t'at might not die-
ah, so after all cautious,
but in every way immortal-like thee;
Snoring and aging in thy deathless foreverness;
In which there art profoundly thou and I-
And I with my repentant dead soul
Unfreed yet of its cherry-like buds
Reeking of fascinated; yet disheartened
Longings; and horrors t'at
Unrevealed love canst soullessly take
Out its mortal mouth and sunless tongue-
From which my dissatisfied spirit
ain't bound ever to jump and awake.

Ah, but after all-all t'is suffering
and disruptive madness,
My corrupted freedom all along
shalt find justice
And whole confidentiality
In thy soul;
So t'at let me feel lethargic on thy shoulder
And rest my dishevelled mind for a while.
Perhaps, thou could let me sing t'at silent song
Whilst our dear God fixes everything
t'at hath gone wrong;
and imaginations and joy
t'at have been thrown away
shalt find every single way back of theirs
Into th' secure cage of love, within our souls.
Ah, and betwixt thy indolence
Shalt I laugh again;
For th' at length victories and images
so startling,
and pictures I am thankful of;
for they were formed so adequately
by thy stupendous name.
Ah, and immortality-yes, so which
shalt always be thy name;
With such frame and glory
trapped so idly within whose frame-
Like an odd; but fruitful summer game;
Within which I shalt ever thrive,
and civilly flourish;
Just like in thy love I shalt grow and live
And to our very last breath, rejoice.
Jake Spacey Oct 2013
he's terrified of her voice
that whips his eardrums like kashmir switches
and tickles his diaphragm until he convulses
in nervous laughter inside his head

the way it inquires broadly,
like an opera written in tornado sirens and megaphones
and the brightness of lighthouses,
for conversation he thought
had drowned long ago and only
reemerges as bubbles on the lake's surface

a boiling body popping deafeningly
with anxiety, and plumping
bravery pasta, which smells seductive,
which he loves...

he's just not hungry right now.
confidence and anxiety, her voice
steven Jul 2014
My skin must be made of crystal glass
For you to stare through me so violently
I shake and shatter into a million pieces,
Your missing attention a sound wave
Deafeningly explosive to my ears.
To you, the brittle layers underneath my hide
Are playgrounds for your piercing eyes—
My flesh freezes over and turns clear
By the sheer blizzard of your neglect.

You stare into me like I was an abyss—
A shallow pit, a dark nothing—
And carry on believing it so.
My holes are things to be respected
Yet they are all you ever look through.
Your apathy has my vicious soul
Suspended in a restless air
Until I feel so unreal that I evaporate
And truly, truly, feel despair.
I
loathe
fighting with
my entire being.
Maybe because I have
never really been in a fight
just observed my parents, my
friends, everyone around me and
watched as the tension built and built
and built making me feel as small as a child
and as powerless too. People don’t understand
the consequences of their actions, I don’t understand
people. But, I understand fights. Words are like slingshots
catapulting friendships into dangerous territories the words you
say sometimes you mean them, sometimes you don’t and it’s the
words you mean that are the worst. Those are the words you can’t
take back.  And what I understand about fights taught me this. A fight
is like a symphony it builds and builds until its deafeningly loud, and then
its quiet, and there is nothing left leaving its audience unbearably sad and at a
loss.
I wrote this poem for a class when I was asked to write about tension. My teacher hated it but I hope you like it.
Hadrian Veska Jan 2022
It was a long journey home
From the great Eastern front
My sword in its sheath
And shield on my back
Senseless death In a land not our own
Now I return as a shell of myself
The faces of dead men
Hide behind my eyelids
I trudge through unfamiliar streets
Changed by the long decade past
I find it stranger than the far land
I was now returning from
All the great temples
Have been torn down
The God I worshiped
No where to be seen
Brothels and markets
Now stand in places of worship
They tell me the temple
At Anol Mihn yet stands
So I set out for it
Up into the great hills
I take my time on the trek
Unsure of many things
That I used to hold dear,
That I trusted as absolute
The stone path is worn
Overgrown and treacherous
Yet after three days' journey
I arrived at my destination

The temple stood in disrepair
The doors stripped from it
Light shining through holes
And cracks in the high ceiling
I came and bowed to my knees
Before the imposing statue
Of my now forgotten God
Maybe for minutes
Or perhaps long hours
I sat before it
Thinking, praying
If one could call it such
Seeking the one
Who my people had forgotten
Questioning all I had done
And if it was enough
Where I could call home
Now that my home has abandoned
All I once held dear
Yet the statue before me
Sat deafeningly silent

The light shifted slowly
Imperceptibly the pure light
Became gilded rays
As the evening sun sank
Illuminating the thick dust
Hanging weighlessly in the air
I stood up as the light faded
And stepped out side
The twilight had come
And with it I journeyed
Further into the hills
Until I found a grassy place
To rest my weary body
As well as my weary soul
The stars became visible
As I sat down I turned my gaze
To the endless heavens above
I laid my pack beside me
Then laid myself down
In soft untouched grass
Gripped between my fingers
Then closed my eyes

Praying my God may come
In but a whisper
To tell me what to do
To show me the way I just go
And what to do now
That everything I know
Has fallen apart
I cried, and waiting
Spoke and prayed
Yet no answer came
Not in all the long hours of night
I laid there in the hills

Before the morning came I arose
I heard the birds in the bushes and trees
I saw the grass blow in the breeze
I felt the sun bring warmth to my cheeks
And I stood up to survey the earth
To witness if I had any worth
For a moment I stood and then I heard
A voice my own yet not my word
From deep within an answer came
Not from one I knew and not the same
As the God whom I claimed to believe
But He spoke and said He is in me
Not just in stone, temple or heart
But in all those his righteous art
Who seek the truth, peace and love
To them he comes light as a dove
And rests on them and dwells within
Freeing them from bonds of sin
That they may live and live a new
The Creator God who dwells in you
Shevola Sep 2013
Emerged from the forest of before,
lying out here on nature's open floor.

Hushed silence descends on the crowd,
astronomic anticipation deafeningly loud.

And an audience of many a twinkling light,
an audience of burning green eyes keep us in sight.

The spotlight is trained on a boy perched on a red box,
He ignores the creaking seats and the rude whispered talk.

The silence is blessed,
as Jupiter smiles down from above,
As the grass tickles our cheeks,
Necks arched
We need to behold it.

Clasped in embrace, lips coiled in fear,
Something is stirring, monsters of society rear
Ugly heads to turn away,
Their anger, their fright, their life...
is on display

A star gazing ******, new to this universe,
new to the way the galaxies converse.
New to the language of this astrology,
I now write previous lives eulogy.

Even though this masquerade leaves us dissuaded,
its lines ensnare us, to overlook mumbled words
and taut stagnant blank faces.
This dancing boy cries out in many voices,
now he's loud enough to be heard.

And then we see it and it's in the sky,
I don't want forever and I don't want why,
I just want to hold stardust in my hand,
To recall, remember, rewind.
As  I will never understand.

In front of our eyes, they speak the final words
linked together by their unity.
One does not surpass the other,
and in their eyes we find serenity.

Who cares what you are
Under a star
Who cares how you feel
Because nothing is real
There's always more than you or me,
the world is bigger than what we see.
It's not just our stretch above,
there's more to accept and more to love,
And two hands on either side,
lead me to open my heart. Open it wide.
To swallow the stars and swallow the sky,
Swallow this terrible tragic lie
Whole.

Looking into portals to Heaven or looking into
the realms of the mind,
Whether someones is listening,
up there- I solemnly believe to find-
That someone is "vested in your success".

SO OUR LOVE ALWAYS
The description of our (myself and fellow Hello Poetry poet Aisling O'Leary) night. It consisted of theatre and star gazing.
Sillage Nov 2015
You sat next to me in quietude
But your heartbeats called me deafeningly
Reluctant to hear your voice rupture
While I waited for my name to echo stoically  

You sat next to me in quietude  
But you fought the guilt inside you solely
Tackled it with a valiant front  
As I watched you succumb inside me spiritually  

You sat next to me in quietude
Acknowledging we love semovedly
You succumbed harder in your world
And I succumbed in return silently
Bekah Jan 2019
Your love is the fruit
Of the poisonous tree
That Adam once
Took from Eve

Tell me how is it
I couldn't see
That you were slowly
Killing me

Your voice is euphoric,
You're a siren of the sea
I'm not sure how I didn't notice
The waves crashing deafeningly

Maybe I was too entraced
In the way you spoke
Of the all the things
That you loved the most

Maybe I was too desperately
Clinging onto the hope
That your love would be the cure
Not a lethal dose
Philline Mar 2018
She's letting the wind blow her crowning glory
Dispersing in mid air
Touching her rosy cheeks
Covering her tantalizing eyes
She is the portrait of aesthetic art

He just watches her enjoy the panaroma
His lips stretching into a wide smile
His eyes glow with a hint of adoration
His heart pulsates under pink skies

Silence is deafeningly astounding
When two hearts synchronize in beating
And that drum beat is all they can hear
When love begins here
Dan Kipp Feb 2010
Now
read this aloud, mind the punctuation,
and, finally,
enjoy.


amethyst eyes alight with nighttime lightning, clapping lashes spark ruminations rumbling across the savannah of memory imprinting in me the afterimage of Now.   Now, Now makes me hers -- though i’m more willing a captive than she imagines: imprisoned in the present, tasting the electricity resounding in this soundless cell () deafeningly solid --
she grooves before me.
slowly rolls me
me rolls slowly  
molasses boiling tongues twisting towards me
ba-da doom ba-doom doom doom.

i don’t know if it’s the fireflies caught in midnight-amber jars suspended by strands of suicidal curls tumbling down the pitch of your back,
or
your touch, come tentatively, but nonetheless titillating, for it softly pleas me to get grounded, stay a while in the timbre of warm fireside conversation and cocoa,
or
your teacup of a navel compelling i to lift laughter, fish up reminiscences, and transcend time,
or
when you lean close and lick me with your eyelash, as if a butterfly’s kiss,
or
your soft voice smoothly singing songs of four-lettered blues .   .     .

.     .   . my god you’re gorgeous.

dance with me, Now     for two more turns of the moon let’s defy posterity and traverse the curves of each other’s words and purge our selves of self     let’s anesthetize Now, marinate in the moment, savor the silence and become sap-trapped fossils left for the future     let’s live a lifetime together in two more turns of the moon, Now,     so that I may memorize every quark of every electron of every neutron of every proton of every atom of every ion of every molecule of every cell of every sinew of every tissue of every ***** and every system of all your beauty, Now, you are perfect because you are am is and will never be anywhere else but here and nothing else but Now.

feel me?
   feel her?

      feel here?


Now.
Frisk Feb 2016
October 11, 2013 -*
Chloe's POV
____________

“Wonderland looks like a ******* acid trip.” I mentioned, while Hayden silently dragged me along pressing his fingers so roughly into the skin of my arm that I could feel my pulse surge through my arm. “Come on, don't tell me you don't think the same.”

“Where is Alice?”

I pointed towards the cage, containing one of the seven princesses. “There.”

Hayden took off his hood, and stepped up to the podium to stare at Queen *****. Oops, I meant the Queen of Hearts. Her square face and extremely large lips coated in a ruby waxy color along with the bad contouring made her look like a drunk housewife who hates her kids. “Who are you? How dare you interfere with my court!”

“What if I find you the real culprit? Will you let Alice go?”

“That's hogwash. Find me proof, then we'll talk.” The Queen of Hearts yelled in her unnecessarily loud and booming voice, startling even Hayden's hardass personality.

The solitaire card guards stood at bay, wielding their weapons at their sides. One of the guards locked the gate, and threw the key up towards the queen who spun the key ring around her finger. Hayden stepped back, gripping my arm forcefully again. “Dude, can't you loosen up?”

Hayden huffed. “Shut the **** up. If you don't follow my orders –”

“You'll do what? **** me? I thought you needed my soul to enter the Final Keyhole.”

Hayden tensed up the muscles in his hands around my arm, literally dragging me along with him. The moment we entered the forest, he loosened his grip on me slightly as he walked forward mumbling something about wanting to have me on a leash.

“Yeah, because I'm literally a *****. Get it?”

Hayden threw me up against the wall, pressing his balled up fist beside my face. His nose was nearly touching mine as he gave me a humorless look. I could basically see the evil in his eyes. “You're not ******* funny. After we open up the Final Keyhole, I'll finally be able to ******* get rid of you. All you are to me is ******* trash. Do you understand that?”

I spit a loogie in his face. “Get off of me, *******.”

Before I could react, he took out his keyblade and slashed up my left arm drawing a lot of blood. With gritted teeth, I said, “You – You will never ******* open up the Final Keyhole. Not without me.”

My body started losing consciousness almost immediately, and I felt my body drop down onto the forest floor. If looks could ****, I would have been dead the moment Organization XIII captured me three weeks ago. Finally, the darkness swallowed me and I welcomed it's homely embrace.

“There's a legend behind those paopu fruit: If two people share one, their destinies become intertwined. They'll remain a part of each other's lives no matter what. I've always wanted to try it."  Max mentioned, putting her bare feet into the water.

“You know legends are basically myths passed down over generations?”

She looked over towards me with this soft gaze in her face, and I felt the air ****** out of me as the sun hit her azure blue eyes the right way. “I know it sounds stupid, but I want to do it sometime.”

“Grab me the axe out the shed, Max. We're gonna chop down one of these trees.”

“Are you kidding me?” Max had this worried look on her face, and I rolled my eyes.

“Yes. Come on, slowpoke. We're losing daylight here.”

A few minutes passed as I soaked my feet in the salt water, and I laid down in the sand whenever I was met with Max who held the axe above me. I flinched, and sat up quickly. “You scared me.”

“Give me the axe.” She handed it to me, and we raced each other to the top of the lighthouse. Of course, Max was faster since I was lugging around this dense axe. When we made it to the tree, I started swinging the axe into the tree. I got tired super quickly, since we basically raced each other. “This activity takes so much energy out of me. You and I shouldn't have raced up here.”

“It was fun. Let me try.” Max grabbed the axe from me, and swung with slightly more force than I did. After several of Max's swings, we watched the tree start leaning towards the water.

“You're doing it, Max!”

“Max the Axe Queen!” I shook my head grinning as the tree finally groaned, spintered, and collapsed off the top of the hill of the lighthouse crashing into the waters below. “Oh no...”

“I'll get it.” I nodded. “I'm a good swimmer.”

As I swam over towards the crash site, I noticed that the tree has gotten caught on the gap between one of the rocks so the leaves of the tree and some of the fruits were still showing. I was surprised that the stems of the paopu fruits stayed on. “I found the *****!”

“Chloe!”*

Immediately, I recall that Max never called for me. I swam back to shore, right? Her shrill voice rang in the air louder. Then it became deafeningly loud. That's when I felt fabric wrapped around my arm. My finger twitched as I started to realize that Max was screaming my name. “– And you don't understand anything. You're just a weak kid with a keyblade.”

“I may be weak, but my heart is strong.”

“Then show me that you're strong, because all I see is a hopeless girl saturated with optimism. Like you can do anything with those doormats you call your sidekicks.” I struggled to open my eyes, eventually peeking out. This was the first time I was looking at Max Caulfield in five years, and she looked ******* furious as she held the keyblade.

“Don't you dare talk about my friends like that!”

“Try and ******* stop me, you twig.”

Her eyes immediately flickered towards me, and I did the shushing motion with my lips when I weakly pointed up towards Hayden. She looked back at Hayden, positioning herself. With all of the strength in my body, I kicked Hayden in the back of his knees making him collapse over me. “What the hell?”

Quickly, I crawled out when he grabbed at my leg. “Get back here, *****!”

Max sprinted towards Hayden, her keyblade drawn and positioned to attack Hayden when he blocked Max with his own. This gave me enough time to crawl out of his grip. Two keyblades, something I've never seen before, came forth from Hayden's hands as I ran towards Max's side, throwing out my hand to manifest my sword. My heart was beating against my chest as I pressed my back up against Max's. “Good to see you again, Max.”

“Same here. Distract him, I'm going to heal you.”

Then it was my turn to fight Hayden, who looked furious. Max healed my wound in the background as I ran from Hayden. With Hayden equipped with two swords and knowing he is dexterous with both his left and right hand, defense was very difficult on my part. Eventually, he kept on throwing slashes over at me and that's all I could do. “Come on, Max. I'm basically blocking here.”

While Hayden was occupied by me, he noticed Max was building up a fire attack which he quickly darted towards the left as the flames hit a tree in the forest. The tree slowly started building up a fire as Max and I started clashing swords with Hayden. At one point, he swiped Max towards the ground and pinned me up against one of the burning trees. “You better back the ******* right now.”

“You're ******* scared, aren't you?” I yelled at Hayden's face, who pressed the keyblade against my neck. Everything started feeling uncomfortably hot, especially the sweat that ran down my face. My eyes glanced over towards Max, who quickly ran off towards the fruit upstairs.

“Where did that ***** Max go?”

Hayden spotted Max eating the fruit high in the tree, and his face went pale. Max slowly started growing in size, and that delay was enough time for me to run from Hayden. Once Max was at full size, she grabbed Hayden like a ******* teddy graham. “Leave my friends alone.”

She crushed him in her fingers, and his body shattered into billions of pieces. After checking that he was executed properly, she wiped her fingers on her shirt. “Woah, Max. That was ******* awesome.”

“Let me get down on your level first.” Max joked, grabbing the fruit out of the tree. Once Max shrank back to normal size, the blonde haired girl with wings had came over to heal my arm injuries with her keyblade. As Max approached me, I felt my heart jolt once I saw how big the smile was on her face.

****, she's ******* attractive now.

“Cards! Find whoever made this mess, and exterminate them. Off with their heads!” The familiar booming voice of Queen ***** interrupted my thoughts, and for once, I was thankful to hear such a nasally and unattractive voice.

"Oh ****!" Max whisper-screamed, grabbing my hand.

We ran towards the tea party set up yet abandoned by Alice and her friends, and hid under the table as we heard the Queen's voice, followed by the clapping footsteps of the Solitaire Cards.

“So are you going to introduce me to your friends?” I whispered to Max who was at my side, nudged her in her arm.

“Maybe later, when we're not stuck under a ******* table.” She gently grabbed my arm, and I noticed her touch greatly contrasted with Hayden's rough one. I excused that thought as soon as it ran through my head, silencing our breathing as the cards marched through the abandoned tea party. It must have been fifteen minutes of cards patrolling the area making sure it was clear before we crawled out.

I wiped the grass off my pants when Max threw her arms around me in the process. “Max, you're a ninja. That was some quick thinking. You're still smart.”

“I missed you.” Max buried her nose into my collar bones, curling her arms around me and pressing me close to her. I could feel her heart beating rapidly from the leftover adrenaline from the fight. Almost immediately, I returned the favor throwing my arms around her neck. Something about her smelled sweet, and I allowed myself a moment of peace and serenity with my best friend.

“I missed you too, Max.” Max tightened her grip on my shirt as I tried pulling back. “What?”

“Chloe, I've been looking for you for years now. I thought you were dead.” Max was crying, but from the way she was smiling, I could tell that it was tears of joy. Something in me blossomed as I pulled her into my chest again. “It's just...I'm so glad to see you.”

“Yeah. Same here.” Eventually, she let go, and I turned towards Max's friends. “Sorry for that. Looks like my best friend can't keep her hands off me. I'm Chloe Price.”

Warren and Kate both shook Chloe's eager hand. “Come on, Chloe. We have to leave before the cards find us and try to **** me.”

“Lead the way, Max.”
unwritten Jul 2014
but i will.
i will write it and it may take me
five minutes
or it may take me fifty.
and neither of the two is an absurdly long amount of time,
unless you really think about it.
because five measly minutes
is just the same
as three hundred seconds.
and three hundred seconds
is just the same
as three hundred thousand milliseconds.

we've only just covered one-tenth of an entire fifty minutes,
yet already we have before us
three hundred thousand intricate units of time,
each lasting for the blink of an eye -- no, less --
then vanishing,
like the evanescent remains of a flame
that has been reduced
to first sparks,
then dull embers,
then ashes.

the funny part about it is that you never know
what each tiny little bubble of time might hold,
what might happen when it forms,
or when it pops.

a millisecond is incredibly short,
almost unfairly so.

but three hundred thousand milliseconds?

it can't be said what could happen as those fleeting fractions
slip away.

we may try to grab hold of them,
to catch them in our palms.

but time stops for no one.

so you may find yourself
with empty, bleeding palms,
as a reminder that time is harsh, cruel,
tyrannical.

and as you wrap bandages around your wounds
(or maybe not),
those fleeting milliseconds
will laugh with sudden bursts of cynicism,
like fireworks,
deafeningly silent.

they will laugh
at what a fool you were,
thinking you could catch time
in the palms of your hands.


(a.m.)
okay so this is also just a bunch of scrambled thoughts but i kinda like it? idk.
Bubbly Jul 2011
Standing proud
Standing tall
Standing empty

Were you sweet, salty, sour or bitter
as you touched the tip of her tongue?

Insertion of jagged knife
Above my navel
Below my xyphoid
An area as delectable and soft
As the elixir you contained.

Your neck has been
Played with
Fumbled with
Her lipstick smears on your jaw
Traces of sweet notes
Leading the way
Down, down
All the way
To your base

You are deafeningly silent
But I hear what happened -
so loud -
Yet I say nothing
Because if I crack your delicate crystal
You'll only be worthless to me
Lydia Samantha Dec 2011
Life and Death live inside my head
Arguing, fighting between themselves
For my attention
It's an old battle
A hard battle
But one I've fought often
I plead with Life to give me help
I plead with Death to give me leave
Each word spoken by Life
Is deafeningly drowned out by Death's hoarse scream
The quiet whisper of Life reverberates throughout my skull
But what I hear
I can no longer understand
This ever present battle between Life and Death for someone so simple as me
All I want is silence
Freedom
Silence to listen to
Freedom to ask
And with each question comes only the answer
But Life abides by no such rules
And Death obeys no laws
So I live this wretched life with a battle in my head
Forced to strain at the voice of Life being overpowered by the force of Death
I wish Life simple
And Death
Nonexistent.
Dave Gledhill May 2017
“YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER!”
screams the judge,
wielding a whiskey and a weaponised Women’s Weekly,
as I flare inside but choose instead to smile meekly.  
Was my Dad the spawn of Jeffrey Dahmer?
Or the bloke who used to watch Kojak, on a Sunday, in pyjamas?
In fairness though, the absence of the villain of this piece,
last seen clubbing in Ibiza with a girl who’s not his niece,
does nothing to lighten this affair.
Especially with his crimes bequeathed to me, his heir.
The charges apparently too ignoble for repentance,
I brace to bear the brunt and bile of sentence.

Her glib-gab gores each guilty glance.
Each chapter claimed by circumstance.
Her words a whip, envenomed lace,
lashed out anew upon my face.
It matters not that he’s elsewhere,
I stand accused for the genes I wear.
I’d serve notice now, demand redress,
if he hadn’t eloped to a vague address.
The urge to silent scream? Repressed.

Repeal rejected, defence disbarred.
Appeal affected, mis-trial marred.
A deafeningly dead deal is on the cards.
I pause perpetually and play the clock,
Until “New Witness!!” echoes around the dock.

Youngest courtroom entrant in our history,
identity unknown and gender still a mystery.
“Oh, look how wonderful this is!” coos the judge.
Now as sticky sweet and seasonal as fudge.
“Of course this cherub must approach the bench,
with the defendant as mouthpiece to represent”.
“Pray tell, sinner, its testimony loud and clear"
*Cue a minor mandate that only I can hear *
A pause. A private parley.
The pup's prose presented without palaver:

“I will grow, just like my father”.
For the people who made me write again. For better or worse.
McNe May 2015
Dark clouds gathered in the sky
No ray of light was seen from up high
The sky rumbled deafeningly
Like a child crying wholeheartedly

Pitter – patter, there goes the rain
Every drop descended in my window pane
I touched the glass with my hands so little
It calmed my heart that’s fragile and brittle

I ran outside and let the rain poured on me
I closed my eyes, blinding me from what I see
I fought and won... I have too many sins
Hoping in vain, may the raindrops make me clean

I opened my eyes, there was no more rain
I clutched my chest as I felt the same pain
I smiled as I went to bed with the same hope in my brain
Hoping that when it rains, I may become whole again
Jesse Bourque Sep 2010
I am standing
in the shadow of god machines

In the valley of death
wrapped in the bones of a dying sun

The city is incandescent
with the furnace flames

Of the great engine of war,
and I am floundering in the ashes

It is deafeningly silent,
and in the distance

I can see her,
in robes as bright a blue

As mine are ***** grey,
draped over my tired frame

We hold each other tight,
huddled close in a shallow crater

Finding sanctuary in turmoil
and in war
                      peace
Recollections of a dream I once had, in its original dream logic.
(no title at this time, if anyone has any ideas...)

(c) Jesse Bourque
Jake Leader Apr 2013
Compulsion is a sad thing,
making all of emotions deafeningly ring.
So you must understand. There's things I can do, and things I cant...
Though I have to say, that don't excuse why ate your aunt.

You must understand, that when you have these enormous fangs.
Sometime you get these inexplicably ravenous pangs.
All I seem to want to do is eat,
the very first person that I meet.

Believe it or not, but I am sorry for these rather large eye's
Which were used to make mocking disguise.
I know the shock must have been great.
The aftermath I knew you'd hate.

Though the woodsman cut me open with an axe,
I honestly don't find the judgment lax.
He did what he had to do,
so who am I to ever blame you.

But though this tale maybe done,
there are plenty of children left to chase and to run...
I always skip the last step.
It's a matter of doubt
and defiance.
Disappointment,
which deafeningly rings
down to my imperfect toenails.

Skipping the last step
is a step away
from envy and lust.
It's that gray silk screen
behind my head.

Left foot first-
just like dancing.
But only one step up,
then it's counting by twos.
Coming down, the same
as you do when you're high,
onetwo, onetwo, a delicate prance
MUST be bombed into the thousand pieces,
all because, (though it is also why),
I always skip the last step.
Austin Heath Oct 2014
Wrecked on the couch,
my victims asked me who I was
or who I thought I was
or who I was trying to be.

I resented them, like most people
who play into my empathy for
some luxury or to **** out a sucker.

I live on a seat of noise.
Everything is deafeningly loud.
Sinking in screams
like a stale mattress
full of bedbugs,
but you need a place to sleep
for at least another night.

I fly on a deranged bird
that knows one word,
and that word is made-up.
Fictional.
I fly by inches, crawl in the sky
crawl towards death with my
head tilted backwards.

I don't even bother asking
many questions anymore,
especially about people.
I'm not so upset that nobody
particularly cares.
Tarik Aug 2018
Isolated I stood at the shadowed corner
illuminated only by the street lamp
across the decrepit road.

Deafeningly silent I sat perched
at the bench awaiting my vessel
to deliver me.

Coyly he drifted into my universe
wearing a cloak and a smile
that would charm a Queen's guard.

Stiff like a board I stared at him
existing at a medium between
the end and the beginning.

Puzzled I was at a loss of how
to approach this drifter and his
exceedingly charming demeanor.

Thunderously my heart thumped
waiting anxiously for my vessel
that could not come soon enough.

Do I dare succumb?
Tucker ORyan Sep 2012
Green grass along a cerulean sky
                Sought I
                                To write:
                                                The perfect prose.
Thoroughly I searched,
                Yet my pad remained plain and pure
                And quite unquenched.
I strolled stolidly and walked wearily
        To the water’s unexpected whims.
                                Amusing as it were, well…
                        With its lacking of lapping—
                                                 just somewhat lazy:
                                For the wind blew blessedly refreshingly,
                Yet the waves seemed scared to surface—
                        Somewhat suspiciously.
Then my ears caught quite a commotion
        Coming from behind me:
                                Chuckling and chasing squirrels
                        Pounced past perched pigeons
                        As if to bother the birds
                        Because of blatant boredom.
Deafeningly distracted became I
        When all of a sudden
                A fickle photographer focused her
                Large lens
                        Dangerously, daringly in my direction.
        Vainly I ventured to assume,
                Yet I assuaged,
                        And I moved
                                Maturely… (as anyone should).  
        Pointed and positioned to the person of peace
                                placed in the park,
        She snapped, and she snipped a picture or two
                Inevitably to post on a wasted wall space.
As the sun set,
        To be clearly cliché,
        I wrapped up my writings
                On my once plain and pure pad.
        Had it had eyes,
                It would have gawked and glanced
                        For my gaze in return:
“You call that a creation? Corny it is,
        Not at all concise.”
Carelessly content, I closed the cover
        Leaving my pad
                Quite unquenched.
Colm May 2017
Signing up for this certain road
Foreseeable or not
Be it windingly long, or deafeningly smooth
Makes no difference to me
Because to get to the end of it
To the end of it all
And to drive on like this
Is to get to be with, and be beside you
We do not know why, how, where, or for how long the other feels called to wait. We can only see our side of the equation, and ask when the moment seems right. *patiently* I'm waiting for such moments. Lord please help me wait for confidently.
Marigold Jun 2015
Do i drag you down,
to the depths of myself
when i tell you
of what i have seen,
what i have felt,
what i have done
and had done to me?

Do i belittle you
to the size of myself,
with the stories of my past,
all that i've done.
all that i've hurt
and all i've avoided
the other lives
I used to lead?

Do i make you
to shake in your bones,
when i speak of my actions
and inactions
my screams and my cries
and most deafeningly,
my silences?

Do you pity me
or do you fear,
my child,
all i have failed to do?
Olivia Dec 2019
A half-dream that something was wrong with my brain and
there was bass growing deafeningly, deafeningly louder.
Too loud, too loud.
Searing, hitting pain.
And I ran to find him because I didn’t know what was happening or how to stop it. And he couldn’t get organized
or to the hospital
and he had to maps it
and I couldn't stop screaming
and he was so scared, crying, wanting to help
but terrified and unable to.
bones May 2014
On some days
even quiet days
my only chance
of momentary peace
is noise so loud
I cant hear any more
thought

On those days
in that moment
that deafeningly peaceful moment
my head pounds
much less
than it pounds
in any silence
Ive ever known.
123 I close my eyes, count‘til nine
456 you run and hide
789 I open my eyes
To run after you
And seek where you are

One, I made step to left
Two, heads where found
Three, words collided
Four, I reassured
Five, I knew it was you
Six, I saw you kissing her
Seven, I cried
Eight, I run and
Nine, a deafeningly bang aired
And I disappeared

Like Hide and Seek
Count 123 and you’ll see
One broken heart
Two foolish hearts
and three reasons I die.
grace Aug 2015
you are quietly resting
in the back of my mind
I forget you're there
until I'm alone at night

you are the empty sounds.
the white noise background,
sometimes that silence is deafeningly loud
you are the hum in my brain.
the noise you can't place,
gentle and strange both sound like rain
you are the tuning in.
the forgetful mind full of gin,
realizations and moments of second guessing
you are the selective.
the choosing to take or give,
hearing your breath in memories I relive

I'm no good at this
Feeling is a peculiar thing
It's so confusing
I don't like it
you confuse me, you are crystal clear.
elle Oct 2018
each New England home you’ve moved into
and out of
creaks the same
under my changing weight.

the porch sags,
sporting chipped paint
from years of cigarette breaks
spent shuffling, feet dug into wood

flimsy locks and screeching mailboxes,
the basement granite walls
and clunks of the laundry machine,
speak to me in familial hums
as if to sing,
stay away.

the same centipedes
scurry by my feet
as water falls deafeningly
I’m frozen in time.

staring empty-eyed into these brimming closets,
my vision strains.
florescent light
gleams across shut picture books of
treasures lost.
nothing left but old habits

found, as tools to our escape.

even I’m still slipping up,
and into the courting beds of lost men
mothers looking to me longingly
bearing sad smiles and gifts, as they lock the liquor away.
every son’s depression tugs the same short leash

knowing this much,
calms me.

home is a sad that
hangs dry in the cool thick air,
a sad that feels like November
like drenched rain coats, muggy with our heat
and after school how we
sailed paper boats
just to watch them drown in storm-sewer drains

home rings like
the bell of every summer heartbreak,
which coddled me to sleep
then too, shook me sharply.
only to find myself deserted

a ship at sea,
my heart buried in sand, again.

home is
the heavy drought before the rain
it stands on our heads
it dances past our eyes
it lives in our reflections
teasing us,
as if to say
we’re not allowed to cry.
Skye Applebome Apr 2013
I run,
away from the horrors
But they run with me
Luckily, I have friends
to keep them away.
But did they hear
My deafeningly silent
scream for help?
Or did the monsters
drown me out?
Vivian Sep 2012
what do I expect?
to be loved?

because lately it's been
just a pile of *******
but who can i blame?

because i'm really not lovely
and i wish to be truly lovely

i guess he would've tried
to make some sort of contact
if he really did think i was
something special

and i hate feeling needy
and i don't want to need a thing

but that's precisely
who i am;
someone who's deafeningly
indecisive
and who can't muster up the courage to do a **** thing that'd do her any good
JC Lucas Oct 2013
Pushed?
Pull until they fall with you.
Shushed?
Make a silence so deafening it drives them insane.
If evil strikes your right cheek,
slip that right hand so fast he falls on his face.

Be aggressively passive.
Because fire plus fire just burns down the house.
Be the negative space
Invisible to everyone
but those who are
looking.

And if that maddening silence makes them scream,
(which it very well may)
reply calmly,
but give no ground.
not even an
inch.
and you will do more than win;
you will baffle them.

Because all the
pushers
know to do
is push.


They’ve never seen someone like you.
someone so
avoidantly
direct.
so deafeningly
quiet.
so precise in chaos.

You’re like negative space.
and you baffle me
because when I push
you pull
until I fall over myself.
When I roar a lion’s roar
you are a mouse

Yes, you are a puller
and I am a pusher
and I am so
astonishingly
fascinated
by you.
Tucker ORyan Dec 2012
Green grass along a cerulean sky
            Sought I
                         To write:
                                      The perfect prose.
Thoroughly I searched,
             Yet my pad remained plain and pure
         And quite unquenched.
I strolled stolidly and walked wearily
     To the water’s unexpected whims.
                          Amusing as it were, well…
               With its lacking of lapping—
                                        Just somewhat lazy:
                          For the wind blew blessedly refreshingly,
          Yet the waves seemed scared to surface—
                Somewhat suspiciously.
Then my ears caught quite a commotion
     Coming from behind me:
                          Chuckling and chasing squirrels
                Pounced past perched pigeons
                As if to bother the birds
                Because of blatant boredom.
Deafeningly distracted became I
       When all of a sudden
           A fickle photographer focused her
           Large lens
                Dangerously daringly in my direction.
        Vainly I ventured to assume,
           Yet I assuaged,
                And I moved
                      Maturely… (as anyone should).  
         Pointed and positioned to the person of peace
                            Placed in the park;
         She snapped, and she snipped a picture or two
            Inevitably to post on a wasted wall space.
As the sun set,
         To be clearly cliché,
         I wrapped up my writings
            On my once plain and pure pad.
         Had it had eyes,
             It would have gawked and glanced
                For my gaze in return:
             “You call that a creation? Corny it is,
                Not at all concise.”
              Carelessly content, I closed the cover
                Leaving my pad
                      Quite unquenched.
Gabriel Feb 2014
Why do you shine
So deafeningly bright
Do you even know
You are the source that lit a night
As lunar tines shoot hopelessly
Through endless hovering halos
Wishing only for your luminousity
Until the twilight finally goes
Away, only to be crushed
By the realization of the day
Still thoughts of lunar light
Fills visions that I crave
Yet merely highly inspired
Like by a sunset's last array
When I look at a woman's body...
I....
Uh.....
Forget what I was gonna say?

— The End —