Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
stopdoopy Jul 2018
(In a vacant church Little Girl and Big Man sit on a parish
a few feet apart, in between them lies a book titled"My Feelings".)

(The curtain opens. Little Girl sits staring at Big Man. Big Man gets up and goes to the statue of himself in front of them for a closer look.)

Big Man: Will talking in person really make a difference?

Little Girl: I like to think it does.

Big Man:  (turns to look at her incredulously.) What wishful thinking, you're so naïve.

(Little Girl opens her book and starts to read aloud.)

(Big Man cuts her off with a noise every time she starts to say something until she falls silent.)

Big Man: Just as I thought, it doesn't change anything.

Little Girl: But you don't-

Big Man: (cuts her off again.) You just can't let things go, that's your problem. I told you I didn't want to do this, yet you dragged me out here. It didn't accomplish anything!

Little Girl: That's because you don't even want to listen or try to talk, you just want to yell and blame me!

Big Man: That's enough, this conversation is over. (Walks off stage right.)

(Little Girl screams in anger and throws "My Feelings" at the Big Man Statue.)

(The Curtain closes.)
I wanted to try something a little different! I've never written stage directions or a play before but I thought this would be a nice change. I didn't really convey the raw anger or passion, nor was it the scene what I originally wanted but maybe it's a step in the right direction. Trying out different styles is neat. Not happy with this piece though but... oh well.
Matterhorn Dec 2018
He awoke.

His eyes opened slowly with a purposeful slowness; an action that for most people is the beginning of their life was, for him, a procrastination.

He arose.

The floor felt cold, unwelcoming as he stumbled reluctantly to the sink. The bristles rasped against his teeth, gums bleeding out of spite.

He entered.

Breakfast—a lonely egg, boring toast—entered his body; each bite was scooped with the utilitarian vigor of one who is no longer enchanted by food, yet the relationship must continue: a compulsory marriage without option for divorce. This discomfort washed down with lemon-water.

He contemplated.

Thoughts, those musings that are feared, condemned by most and yet became the greatest of comforts for him, reminded him that one day it all would end and he would be free.

He wasted.

He stretched out his hands, offering up his life force in the daily sacrifice to the eager god that, in return, lit up with the brightness of a thousand stars that blinded him from all that he wished not to see.

He showered.

Cold water ran down his soul, icing the most superficial inflammations while taunting the deepest wounds; no matter how long he remained behind the curtain, there would be no true respite.

He returned.

The blackness beckoned. He entered willingly, surrendering himself to the dark embrace of that demonic respite, his beloved above all others.

He died, once again.
© Ethan M. Pfahning 2018
D Awanis Sep 2016
For his heart is
as cold as
the Winter weather

and she was born
in Summer
That's why there's no other way they could make their way
Sydney Feb 19
Alone
Sometimes peaceful
Sometimes loud
Sometimes sad
Sometimes good
Lonely is different
Lonely is bad
And scary
Can’t see, can’t hear, can’t breath,
Loneliness suffocates
Steve Page Jan 26
ordinary is arbitrary
different is normal
fitting in means invisible
so avoid the conformal

distinct gets you noticed
so who wants to be equal
I'd rather be original
than anybody's sequel

you are of more value
when socially unacceptable
blending in is deadly
out of step is pref'rable

so when stuck in a crowd
decide what's more valuable
will you run with the herd
or dance to the eternal
We value conformity and fitting in too highly, yet continue to crave affirmation.
Lot May 2017
I am there too.
Where I can see them, feel them breathing.
In and out.
Fluid and with ease.
Bubbles of air escape from their mouths,
playful and free.
Oblivious to the murk that is me...
star Sep 2018
I am like a fish out of water.
Yet it's too shameful to cry.
Struggling to breathe
Letting out as much as a sigh.

They know where they’re going
And brush past my shoulders.
Like a stream that never stops flowing
The water gets colder.

I will never see the end.
They're going places and they’re going far.
And I am who I am
But who I am is not who they are.

Am I a fish out of water
Or a failure to manipulate?
Am I going against the ordinary
before it is too late?

Is it the wrong way
If I choose to stay put?
Is it wrong to stay
If no one else could?

Maybe one day I'll push through them.
this poem is about being optimistic and going in the opposite direction of a one-way path. sometimes you don't know whether the end destination is good or not, you just have to hope.
fearfulpoet Mar 22
Why they call me the fearful poet! (The Razor Thin Difference)

”but who am I to complain
the  razor thin difference tween
blessings and curses so thin,
sometimes are they not, the same thing”

Aug. 2018

~~~

this familiar line, well traversed, lives on the maps
sketched indented on your palms and brow,
at the edges of the crow’s nests, the eye’s keyboard witnesses,
recording every ******

we tap in seeings, forming letters,
letters into lines, lines into verse,
as we alliterate, we walk unawares,
of the razor thin difference tween blessings and curse,
indiscernible until concluded, perhaps, not even then,
the stanza’s probable outcome,
always unsure, unknowing destiny’s decision

so we walk, tread, plumb, shoutout
“vive la difference,”
hoping the blessing messengers hear us first,
consummating our pleas on their favorable sight & side,
ever fearful, we do not shout loud enough,
do the blind hear,
need me, possess my sacrificial offerings,
my trepidations, burnt on the Temple’s altar

who will breathe their smoke and understand
their fearful origins?

so we-write, cajole that our every moment’s fear,
find the difference, that we don’t bleed from life’s razoring,
the thinner thinnest
needle threaded,

and fear is the threat,
and fear is the thread,
that holds me together


until the unraveling
requires me to write again,
the fearful poet
3/21/19 4:15 am
Jolan Lade Mar 2018
If you could see my thoughts, I would be wondering off.
Towards the stars and into an endless space.
If you could see my thoughts, you would leave me alone.
Because maniacs usually don't have friends.
If you could see my thoughts, you would be kind.
Because sometimes life tend to be tough.
If you could see my thoughts, you would understand.
Because everyone is a grain of sand.
Am I the only one with all kinds of thoughts?
Every question has no answer
And before we ask a question
Their never been an answer
I plea,
Never ask for everything
Notwithstanding,
Ask a question that matter
In the lives of most people
Don't ever say never
To such doubt
And mega controvert
Despite,
Challenge the existing body of knowledge
Anywhere, anytime
Even if when you have little time.
#ask #question #answer #matter #people #poetry
Francie Lynch Apr 2015
What is the difference,
Asked the educator,
Between being skillful,
Such as a *******,
And being educated,
Such as a teacher?

*Well,
replied a prostitue,
One educates skillfully,
The other skillfully educates.


Which is which?
The educator responded.

Depends, said the *******,
On the pay and benefits.
Keith W Fletcher May 2017
Every so often as we move along the trail
We meet those who walk along beside us
Some for just a few steps before a direction change
Others a step and two - you start looking for a bus

So rare when out of nowhere a sojourner steps in
At least that's what it seems to be ...then after a time
You realize you really don't know who joined who
So rare is the honor given and recieved that sublime

Is the word that seems fitting due to.. its rarity of use ...
... height and breadth of its inclusionary valuation
Finding the courage to walk the highwire of conversation
Without a net and that is not the normal inclination

A breath of fresh air through a dusty dead air space
Conversation so often drags along creating a rut
But time harmonizing along the trail a foot or endless mile
Has a key to locked doors and  inspired need to open windows

That I as I'm sure ,like so many others,  have.....
                         at some sad impulse driven moment ...nailed shut !!
Deb Jones May 2018
When a man is courting a woman
He will be completely into her
Leaning towards her in public
To catch her every word

Once he is confident he has her
He will lean away from her in public
And people-watch
As she talks to him

It’s not as if he isn’t listening
But she doesn’t see it that way
She thinks she must be boring him
Her hurt is plain to see. And filled with jealousy

And the man?
He doesn’t understand
Why would the woman he chose
Try to unman him in the end

Now women...
Look at two women out on the town
They lean in towards each other
Talking intimately

They always have the same pose
No matter how long they have been friends
If they are in the presence of mates
The men will become quiet and try to eavesdrop

Because the intimacy of the women
Worry them
And bewilder them
The things they talk about must be so interesting

See the difference?

Now...

On the internet
On social media
In chat rooms
In messenger

Men don’t realize
That women talk a certain way
To other women

They talk to anonymous men
The way they talk to their girlfriends
And they expect men to understand

The way another woman would

Men find this intimacy
...Personal
It feels like the woman
Is whispering in his ear

They fall in love with this intimacy
They **** to hear more
Have more

When the woman is just talking
The casual way they do
To each other

We wonder why there are so many broken hearts
We wonder why “I love you” and “I miss you”
Doesn’t mean the same anymore

It’s because there are women...
And there are men
And we don’t all speak the same language
P;ease don’t think I am picking on either ***, This is just my thoughts.
I’m in my prime; at the cusp of my development.
A few more years of growth makes decay a lot more relevant…
Glass Elephant,
Glass Elephant,
Irrelevance, benevolence, compassion, or malevolence;
I’m one of few who sees it sums no difference.
Glass objects.
Or Elephants.
Irrelevance,
Irrelevance

Striving for motion, with motive elusive
Each thing I endeavor is far too exclusive
I need something inclusive, objectively singular
A sinusoidal wave with a mean lacking integers
Peace in zero and equilibrium inclusion
Glass Elephant
Glass Elephant
Delusions, Delusions
The difference between actions and habits,
     is often measured by the person you're asking.  
One bump, one line, one half ounce...
All shared by people you don't even give a **** about.

These chemicals make me sick --
              Limitless...Why quit?
              When it's only ten bucks for a hit like this?
Even Jesus Christ would have gotten addicted,
              if drugs in his day were half this good.

"Yeah, I'm smashed -- but I promise I can drive fine."
      Walk and push the limits of a real fine line...
If I don't **** myself, or someone else... I'm happy.
       Stare death in his eyes, wink, and start laughing.

Gasping as I swerve lanes --
Stay safe, get paid. Mundane daily.
Living a-live.. Eat. Sleep. Dream. Get laid.  
Chase feelings.

           Please, just feel me now.
                                    You know me, right?

           Please, just feel me now.
                                    You love me, right?

I want to melt with you -- let our souls collide...
Dissolve the boundaries between students and teachers.
        To bridge the gap in the great divide
        No secrets between us -- bleed into the speakers.

Feel the air in your chest, and ask God for a reason...
To stay or leave Him.
He makes excuses...

                                                     ­      ... Believe Him.
Mohamed Nasir Apr 2018
Rich eagles monarch
Of the skies. While poor cockles
Wallowing in mud.
Jade Nov 2018
I never believed in the idea of Normal
When it’s very presence has indicated a
Division
Between people who fit and people who don’t.
Normal is the thing that points at all of you
And calls you different.
I’ve known the phrase ‘that’s not Normal’
And I’ve had the blessing of not
Caring weather I was.
But do not walk up to someone and say they aren’t
Normal.
The entire concept of not being or being Normal
Only divides.
Everyone is their own.
And we are all our own.
And that puts us here together.
We are not alone in our loneliness.
So don’t make someone think they
Are.
Because we aren’t.
We aren’t alone.
And the important thing is that we’re
Together in our difference.
So so what?
So what if no one’s Normal.
11/12/2018
A poem about how even if someone's different, it's important to know that everyone is.
Steve Page Oct 2018
The nice Samaritan meant well
but tended to wait
to hesitate
just long enough
to be too late to make
a real difference
and instead stood
and watched struck dumb
as the world went to ****
in a handcart
There are different classes of Samaritan. Not all are good or timely.
going through motions
doing what i must
or have been told
i should waking up
eating working
working sleeping
day in day out
is it april
is it november

is there really
any difference?


take pills talk
about scars bring
up hurts from my
past that might
have been better
forgotten take
pills increase
dosage wake up
brush teeth eat
food take medicine
work sleep work work
eat **** is this april
is this november

**there is really
no difference...
Jade Nov 2018
We each bear our own weight
And our own stories.
Our difference is what makes us
Different from any other animal.
We are animals with unique minds
Trying to find minds to match our own.
We all bear the weight of our own wings.
Beautiful wings that can carry us to the
Edge of the sky.
The chains we make around ourselves are what keeps us grounded.
They're what holds us back.
We are creatures that need lights to follow in the dark,
If not a friend to lead us then
Our own mind as the only thing that we can really
Trust.
We all need anchors to steady us,
To bring us back when we've fallen.
To remind us of who we were and who we now
Are.
We all need light.
We all want the world,
But we sometimes forget that every
Star has their own world.
So don't take theirs.
Just
Make your own.
11/20/2018
A poem about humanity.
Amanda Sep 2018
When will you learn
The difference between loving
And being in love?
She didn't want love. She wanted to be loved. And that was entirely different.
-Atticus
Next page