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He was the ocean; handsome, but yet, Impulsively damaged. He had a sandy heart to correspond his sandy eyes, the moon dismantled that omitted pride he carried at a dead weight; shoveling and reshaping it, so people would see a sandcastle statue assembled in strength. But his washed-up soul and unannounced insecurities were aware of its genuine purpose,
this beach alongside his pupils;
quicksand, he'll sink so slowly in.  Waves in his hair like ripples on his cheeks, skipping stones land at his defeat, he left notes in bottles for you, sank multiple ships for you, because he hasn't the heart to say he's desiccating with the arrival of the stars.. Retracting scars are not too far from gasps for air,  foaming words of crisis by writing in the sand, signaling a light as the last one in him died. You wouldn't understand, the calm before the storm, as valve after valve puncture him. So intoxicating as it drains him, and from within, he's drying out. Sunburns stain him, a smile restrains him,
in an inescapable drought--
All feedback is welcome
So this was posted here a couple weeks ago and, when I went to revise it, it was drafted and came out as new, I guess? :)
Kimberley Jan 2018
4"2 with the voice of an angel
he couldn't be more than ten
the only thing he ever stole was the hearts of those around him

a week later,
his body drains of blood
a mother's cry echoes around the town
her innocent baby
why'd they **** her innocent baby?
he was only nine.

a mother's cry echoes around the world
her baby's gone
blood drains from his body
one shot to the head
several to the torso
why'd they **** her baby?
he was only coming from school.

a shaken up officer stands to the left
Caucasian and worried
a grieving community to the right
African-American and terrified

straight A's and a bright future at seventeen
a future no-one could foresee
both labeled thugs
at 9 and 17

because of the skin they keep.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Leaches and bloodsuckers all!
Parasites to our hearts and minds,
diseased by location encircling a waterhole.

I’m done with this, gone to future dreams overdue for life,
shedding years of hopeless frustration
as others wallow in their ignorance.

Sickness deepen as their pool thickens.  
New life drains away
running for its existence toward light and hope.

Leaches and bloodsuckers all!
They drain us of lifeblood and energy.
One more waterhole and gene pool;
a cycle without end and death to all who stay.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2013
October 2013

for Maria and Logan...

you need two hands, one foot.
count my years.
each finger, worth a decade.
each toe, well, a century...


point of inflection,
point of opportunity,
presents itself,
to rewrite history.

a second coat of paint,
gift-wrapped in weak excuses.
how I lied, how I ain't,
grimm-fated fairy tales
somebody created.

invisible suits of gold-cloth
worn to my party of
past rewrit and
future foretold.

one single thought,
seizes my heart,
as I fall to my knees.
cracks my temperate ease,
renders open the
woof and weave
of recycled deceptions,
causing all to be revealed
and ask,

what if the poetry ceases?

you know prostrate?
you taste grief?

have you not but
one pain,
one act,
one deed,
one memorization,
act of cowardice,
act of desertion,
mistake maden, taken,
for which
can never
be given,
be taken,

do, does, did.

let me then
win the birthday lottery,
let floods of relief from
daily chores, not drown me,
chauffeurs to drive,
masseurs to massage,
cooks to cook,
les delicious treats,
keep theologians, logicians
on retainer, if need

none know, can provide,
still and yet, a
priestly sacred chord,
grants relief,
song of hallelujah
the ache of
perpetuity worry,
that ancient pain,
grows fresher daily,
the loss of one,
of my body,
my primal knot
everything should be
permitted to be untied,
on my birthday, no?

this day, these days
breathe through words,
molecules of vowels,
stem cells of consonants,
the fabric, the tissues of life,
veins are a dictionary
of corpuscles,
red blood cells are
nouns of nutrients.

this day, these days,
the infection of my soul
is tempered, kept at bay,
tamped down from the
full flowering
of white blood cells
of rhyme, verse.

what if the poetry ceases?

Though the bones creak,
the body they carry. resurrect
for morning, afternoon
and evening prayers.

thrice daily poetry I recite,
roses red, violets blue,
my marrow transfused.

though my prayers refused,
the poetry act immolates
the fringes of my disease,
for which the common cure
is not currently invented....

what if the poetry ceases?

but be assured, told
scientists hard at work,
on the
forgive n' forget drug.

take a bubble bath in
rosemary and mint
trap some words,
tap some words into
your cell phone bone,
the poetry heat that
provides aspirin relief.

through this poem,
on one day annual,
I am relieved, relived
the muse is feted, sated,

gone for few moments
concerns, worries of
exposure today,
agnostic's foxhole of hell
is dis-remembered,
the gloss returns,
the faux dispatched,

ain't birthdays grand?

what if the poetry ceases?

what rhymes with
could it be

bath drains, rosemary and mint
odors dismissed, the  Argentine disparu,
the Spanish Medievalists,
the Neo-Raphaelites,
all gone,
didn't they have birthdays too?

didn't know
the Renaissance come
and go,
and nobody
tole ya?

please recall t'is the day
after my sweet city recorded my
naissance in the
Hospital of the Flowers
on Fifth Avenue.

the 'crats put the datum
in the bureau with the
night creams and
the statistics
as follows:

on this day + a few,
six or twenty decades ago +
a few centuries,
a question was born,
and an ache that is
sometimes relieved,
by a poem song.

though do not celebrate,
t'is a day to calibrate,
review, edit, tinker,
rewrite, often a stinker.

always one thought recycles:

what if the poetry ceases?

(how will I breathe?)
Notes: my birthday was a few weeks ago. One of a number poems I've written about birthdays.  This one was modified, but only slightly for Maria and Logan.
Tanay Sengupta Aug 2018
Pain drains you every day,
You try to fight.
The wounds of yesterday;
Still hurt at night.
You feel lost in darkness
Grief consumes you
And so does madness.
No light to look up to,
You sink in despair
You tell yourself time and again;
"Life is not fair."
"Life is not fair."

Well then, let us make it fair.
Take my hand
Take the light that I share.
Call me your friend.

I understand how you feel
Wounds never truly heal.
Don't suffer in silence and hide your tears;
Don't submit yourself to your fears.

Yes, life is not fair.
But, don't give up and take this light I share.
As much as I can, I will help you until the end.
After all, I am your friend.

Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
This is an old one; no rewrites, no edits, just posted it exactly the way I wrote it about 4 years back. I hope you like it. Happy reading!
Benji James Sep 2018
Could it be
I've never seen
Beauty in me
Took time to reflect
On all that I am
I haven't shared everything I can
On this soul-searching road
The winds and turns
Each corner holds secrets
Each road taken holds challenges untold
Which road you choose is how life unfolds
Some are rougher, Sometimes it's smooth sailing
All the time I've invested in this world
I've come to realise
Each moment is just a piece strung together
In this story called life
I have no wisdom in my words
All I know is I've survived
Yeah, still alive.

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

A man made up of scars
Each marks a tale
Each a reminder of lessons learned
I've been through the ringer
Still standing, And I'll still fight
Until my last breath drains all my might
No matter what the world throws my way
I'll always say...          
"Challenge accepted."
Never gave up
I still dream
I still fight my way
Through each day
No matter the odds stacked against me
I'm a raise my head accept the challenges met

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

Nothing is going to hold me down
I'm going to dance like a warrior
All these bad habits couldn't be sorrier
All these battles I've won
Some left me scarred
But through this my skin became hard
Got a thick skin, Never cut through it
Got a good heart, shines through in my art
Belief only takes you so far
Have faith, it'll take you beyond the stars
They say wisdom can't be found in bars
In unlikely places, you can find yourself
And accept it is all you are
All that you've become
Water washes over me
Setting me free
All this dirt cleansed from me
You haven't even seen the best from me

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer.

Don't make me a role model
That I can never fulfil
All I wanna be is an Inspiration
Show people if they stick to it
They can make it
They won't fail if they fight tooth and nail
Revealing truths through poetic paragraphs
Silver linings rising, capture lightning in a bottle
Hard to contain, just striking in ways they don't expect
In life, you'll realise your blessed
If you take a deep look around
And all that surrounds us
Just shows that you can achieve
Be anything you want to be
And all I choose is to just be me
Open up your heart to see.

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

©2018 Written By Benji James
you break my conscience
so i don't have to do it

but i'm done, okay?

i'm tired of your flippant
that drains the life
in my fragmented eyes

cause she's more better
than me? seriously?

i don't think so

wake up, you little
piece of low-life

I italicized and bolded words for for the first time. These features are pretty neat.
MadeleineBarnham Jun 2018
I love how  the lights
Make it visible to see the rain
I love  how the pavement shines
Shadowed umbrellas are revealed
I love how  the wheels on a car brush up the rain from the road making it sound like water slides from water parks
All the damp leaves create
An abstract masterpiece
Lamp posts look more mystic
Creating silhouettes from a distance
Drains awaken  and  are
mariamme May 2018
i feel so hollow;
echoing cries bounce
off the scraped bone
free of lifeblood
picked clean & still stained
by my river of red
the intangible flood
collected in porcelain
flushed down drains
motherhood, not for me

& i chose freedom
at the cost of loss
of little fingertips & teeth
not because i fear life
i fear loss of life
and the pain of this world

i too was a child, broken
born of blood & bird bones
too skinny to nurture
high as a kite but never free
i saw my way out
and took the loss instead

i'll never set myself free
if it brings you into this world
my darlings of bird bones
and little fingertips
born of blood & brokenness
but safety is yet yours.
be free without me.
Jordan Rowan Apr 2016
A few emptied bottles
Aren't worth much,
When life without you
Could never be enough.

Maybe I could pretend
That you're here and you're well
And maybe I could pretend
That I don't feel like hell.

Maybe each year that passes
Will become easier to get through.
Or maybe time just drains me
And brings me closer to you.

I'll continue to reach for you.
Keep your picture in my drawer.
And soon the day will come,
I won't dig it out anymore.

Never forgotten
And never not missed.
I wish you were here,
But your memory will persist.
Yueyi Yao Jan 2018
There is a heartfelt flower,
genuine and beating.
It yearns and reaches
and curls up inside,
fluttering at every touch,
of those real and affectionate.

There is a heartfelt flower,
genuine and bleeding.
It bleeds and spills
and twists up inside,
weeping drops of red,
all crumpled and stained.

There is a heartfelt flower,
genuine and wilting.
It drains and ebbs
and shrivels up inside,
turning into empty bones,
cast aside and torn apart.

There is a heartfelt flower,
genuine and withered.
If only they could see it
during its full bloom.
towards another end
the black sky of winter postures

¬fireflies like stars by
depictions of dancing¬

ochre soil of rock escarpments
flood plains, buffalo grazing
and you smile at me as we’re driving

it seems presence always has a way of disassociating

  I have so much to say
but when you’re attentive it all feels cliché

   just play me piano keys and ruminations

when the storms sink the streets
and drains overflow with branches
there’s always that desire to stand amongst it
Dogfood Williams Aug 2013
a short bald man with
a big belly lives nearby
and from out of his furflesh cave
he peeks out once or twice a night
to remind me that he
is the only company I have any more
and he is the worst company to keep
he'll come over at the worst possible hours
while I am working
while I am crying
we'll party til he pukes
right in my lap

I want him out, I want him gone
I want to think.
He is the ghost that will light a fire
in someone's yard, spit in a face
and dash to leave me with the mess
I want to cut him out of my life, this
parasitic twin that drains all creation from

I was a good person until I
met him late on the computer screen
dial up noise, legs hoisted high
I was only looking for a magician
he crawled in to bed with me and
my green nightshirt went dark
and the wolf in my room
crusted over with rot and oil
ns Feb 2017
Father, father, please don't go
I have something to tell you that you don't know
I couldn't get past the wires and tubes between me and you
As your life slowly drains out of its colorful hue

Father, father, why did you go?
When all is unfinished and unresolved
I gave you my heart, but you never took it
You gave me life but now it's all crooked

Father, father, how can you leave?
How can we start over when our hearts are bleeding from the pain you weaved
I never told you I have always loved you, as you never did to me
I never told you I have forgiven you for everything you did to me

But father, father, please come back
Cradle me in your arms, mend my heart that you cracked
I want to be a child again, so we can all be fine
I love you, Father, because you were mine.

My father passed away last October.
Part 1:
Keith Wilson Jul 2018
Keith has done his rain dance
No more fun in the sun
Too much time in Egypt
until the war was done

Rain rain rain aplenty
all the drains are running empty
Like Santa's Rudolph always prancing
I will keep on rain dancing
Osiria Melody Mar 24
he was quite the talker, words flowing like alcohol.
his words were always blurred, indecipherable.
could never consistently express coherent thoughts,
for his silence always spoke louder than the words
he intended to say.

he slipped through Support's embrace and poured
his troubles out of a bottle of wine.
glass after glass, a crowd of the only visitors that
come by.
submerged his soul in Despair night after night.

his loved ones assume that he's tired and hates
company, but never see the cave of darkness
through his eyes.
in this cave of darkness lies a stash of bottled wine,
inconspicuously hidden in his abode.
as his heart overflows with wine's toxic kiss, the
life within him drains to Death.

The most painful thing is regret over not saying the words that you wanted to say, so say what's on your mind before it's too late.
Natalie Apr 2018
I am dutiful, a docile child.
Mother tucks me in, again and again.
She need not keep me under lock and key,
So long as she knows that all is well.

I swallow my eternity,
Once in the morning,
Twice at night.
It is a bitter thing that drains
Ebullient, frightening laughter from the maw
And eats at all solemnity.
I am pleasant on the mind and secure,
A safe with nothing to hold.

Inside, the oven is out.
There is a storm turning,
Two cities over. Nothing to fear.
Someone has closed the shutters,
Venetian blinds blinking.
The tenants are sleeping, the house is cold.
Andrew Rueter Nov 2017
People yearn for peace through the night
When they can only see by inferno light
A flame that engulfs the world
But begins in our hearts
We've been tainting this pearl
From the very start

When ****** is part of their plan
I honestly attempt to understand
But the tears I hate flood my brain
When fears create blood and pain
I'm willing to lose my agency
As long as they don't aim at me

We bang our heads on the wall
Until they roll on the floor
They built a ceiling so we'll fall
So we can't reach the door
I am no longer the man inside the estate
When I'm disenfranchised by the state

So I'm pushed to society's outskirts
For the people with whom I flirt
And my perceived net worth
But where one society ends another begins
And they all claim that I've committed sins
So I wander around
Just not inside towns
Where the bullets fly like the accusations
And productivity drains all inspiration

I live in the remote wilderness now
I hoped things wouldn't be so loud
I hear drum beats in the distance
They're explosions killing infants
But there's nowhere else to turn
And my lawn is starting to burn
Must I deal with the chaos colossus
Or could I continue playing possum?
Must I stare into the fiery abyss
To make it onto heaven's list?
Must I return to the mainland
To experience my final stand?

I will wrest sovereignty from them
I will rest in poverty until then
But I would rather have less money
Than subtract family members
They say you draw more flies with honey
But all the flies die in December
Cathyy Jan 2015
If you're the moon with your phases
Then I'm a star gazer, mesmerised by the view..
And if your 'ring of Saturn' falls out I'd go up there myself and find one more suited for you

And how does it feel to have a face that so many call home?..
Cause for three sleepless nights, this 'homeless girl' gave up everything just to write you a poem..

Oh I've been struggling,

I've been staring at the page for ages,
Trying to find the most honest way to say this..
See every time you touch my heart I feel it breaking
So I will never let you know..
But you are so beautiful, I can't take it

And no I won't stop believing
That everyone comes into your life for some kind of reason..
But I'm not using you to write, I'm using you as a source for breathing
though every time I see you I fall to pieces..
..But every piece is in awe with you
So would you collect them and adore me too?

Oh I just can't describe this..
If there was a metaphor you know I'd write it..
You make me lost for words but I won't stop trying,
In hope of finding new parts of you,
Oh you are so beautiful, I don't like it

Cause it ties knots in my stomach.
And then my heart beat drains out the city but I can't stop it..
Is this a horrible poem cause I'm just being honest..
And though adrenaline is supposed to keep me going,
Oh you are so beautiful I can't focus

So don't get too close for comfort
Cause I love you so much my heart hurts,
And it's a pain my heart could take
If you just stay and take the pain away

And your little smile could go to the end of the world,
And I'd whisper your name if it was the end of the world,
..And I have writers block so I don't know what rhymes with 'end of the world',
But don't let me go even when you're someone else's girl
Cause you'll still always be this loser's world :')

.. And if I'm a stargazer mesmerised by the view,
Then I hope every constellation will add up to you.
I had three days of writers block so I really don't think this is a good piece but it's still a poem isn't it.
Jamie Sep 13
Crackle of light,
Shacking with fright.
Beaming white,
Eliminating the night.
Nothing remains,
My life drains.
Everything fades,
I search for aides.
It's all gone away,
The words I want to say.
The only thing left,
The one thing no one can theft.
My still beating heart,
My last part.
It still belongs to you,
Something I can't undo.
My heart, I can't get it back, I don't want it back..
Anna Oct 2018
Random gestures of love
Random gestures of kindness
That light up my day
Like that one time
You said that you loved me
For no particular reason
Unrelated to anything happening
At that moment.

My heart filled with warmth
And a smile found its way
To my pale, usually dull face.
I looked up and said that I loved you as well,
And true happiness bloomed
In my fragile heart
After weeks of drought
After weeks of emptiness.

And my smile was so bright
And I felt so warm
You could have mistaken me
For the sun itself.
And we, sun and moon,
Were the only ones that mattered,
For earth could not affect us.

But then the incident never repeated
And instead of love
I got glares and silence
And your happiness continued
To feed on my own
As your hands continued to take
Every last bit of pleasure
I had to offer.

And as every sun sets,
I sank in the sea
of blue and grey
As I transcended into the mundane routine
Of being lonely when with you
For your arms do not wrap me with warmth
But only

The sun and the moon
Live afar.
They complete one another
Yet they do not meet
And when they do
All light drains from the sun
An eclipse.
March 2018
mariamme May 2018
i like those boys
who stand in corners
pretending they don't care
about the boys who do
those boys whose anger
drains existence
and they refuel through
*** and money and shoes
the bassline in their fast cars
that mimics their pulsing fear
that life isn't for them anymore
so they feed into the cycle
pretending they don't care
standing in corners and
smoking ***** with girls
throwing money around so
they feel powerful enough
to push down their fear
into the dirt under their nails
raking ****** tears at night
caught in their feelings
and i like those boys
i know their desperation
covered in blood money and ***
and tire tracks on their chest
life and death beats dully
so they beat it back, harder
we all have our masks.
Naya Feb 17
In solitude, is where I long to be.
Away from muffled voices and gossip stained lips
I’d rather go crazy,
driven by my own irrational thoughts than be forced to put a smile on my powdered disguised face.

I want to be countless of miles away,
far, far away.
Free to be me is where I truly long to be.

You may leave me,
For thee drains me of the little energy I wake to.

So come and go as you please.
Then eventually leave me,
and let me freely be.
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