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Jeffrey Pua Sep 2014
Frolicking colors:
Blue...
White...

Perfect.

© 2014 J.S.P.
A Mareship Sep 2013
So.
What kind of sleep
Do you want?

The lacy white kind
Where you remember
All of your dreams,
Like glimpsing gardens
Behind cobwebs?
The kind of sleep that
slips on air,
running out of oxygen
like a drowner,
a sleep where
you recall
the hour you
closed your eyes?

Or do you want a
Sledgehammer?
A total blackout,
A sudden death,
Oblivious to fires
And burglaries
And nightmares?
Asleep so fast you
Can barely make out
Legs,
A marathon of hours
Done.

****** or Ambien?
C’mon,
Choose and hush up,
Morning’s waiting.
Four white walls and beam of light
Sweaty ceiling about to fall
Choky air flies all around
Hypnotizing silence soothes the mind
Perfect time to fly away
To be another, in other place
To scream and howl without a sound
To dive into a lake of fire
And swim as a blind fish through the furnace
Under the disk of burning sun
Trying to catch that sound of heat
Which barks and screams as hound unleashed
Eternal maze with narrow halls
Full of dead ends and locked up doors
How deep and far will my mind go
For mind have wings and body doesn't
How high they'll take me i don't know
Well maybe high enough to see
How small is all I thought is treasure
But I'm afraid to go that high
Because I'll be too scared to fall
To fall so fast into a void
And crawl there in the dark of night
Bump in to a big, dark pond
Full of filthy, tricky mermaids
Who'll whisper lies into my ears
And who will laugh when I believe them
And I'll do everything they say
Just to escape these hopeless lands
I will betray and I will lie
To those I care about and love
And when there's no one to betray
I'll know that I betrayed myself
That I took something that's not mine
That I possessed unholy grail
Which wasn't meant to be possessed
That I have chosen coward's path
And I shall burn in a lake of fire
And blind fish will swim around my bones
And then the cycle will be closed.
#cycle #life
raudha Aug 2013
rain is pouring
a stranger awaits
i don't know what i'm up to
but today's the day
that i'll shut off from
everything

you can say i'm a mess
a mess worser than the hair
on my head
because i am
i am a walking catastrophe

life's full of what if's and almosts
i guess i'm just one of them
an eternal drowner of my thoughts
a dead weight
a scribble of god's creation

i don't matter
i cease to exist
it's a revolting pull
a cycle
of madness & me
this poem was originally written in backward handwritting on a piece of paper sometime a month ago
SG Holter May 2014
Cape North. Ocean surface
Dark as a drowner's despair
Hurling itself against itself
Upon; within and beyond itself.

You can smell the North Pole
On the wind's perpetual threat
Of storms so strong they carry
Ice in their harsh beings.

So unlike Warrnambool; emerald
Waves high-fiveing Australian
Rock over its own undeniable
Beauty. Silver edged green gems

Flowing as from a giant child
Emperor's slain piñata.
Scent of warm ocean rendering
Its perfection even to closed eyes,  

And I stand with one foot on each
Vertical edge of the world.
Thanking. Breathing. Watching.  
Praying to -and for- everything.

You are here with me. Like
Yellow on wasp; feather on bird;
The one thing added making
All else as graceful as itself.
Shayne Campbell Feb 2015
We all live in a vast sea of humanity
Surrounded by forces of brutality
The strong always inherit the earth
The weak have suffered since birth
The swimmers embrace as a whole
While the drowning are left in the cold


Once I was a drowner desperate to swim
Destined to join the swimmers was my hymn
Straying away from myself couldn't stay me afloat
Dependence on the strong questioned my code
All on myself left the drowners to their descent
The abyss swallowed me until I made my repent


Praise for the swimmers and ignorance to the drowners
These actions were of no strength but my worst failures
Blood spilled from my heart yet there was a saviour
Turning to my kind was I no longer a traitor
I brought them out of the darkness to the light
We became a force very strong the further we tight


As we rallied our strength, we fought our way to the surface
Torn hearts became sewn into one without weakness
Our return journey was not of acceptance but for truth
We found no light with the swimmers for our soothe
But from within we found our own suns of nourish
Embracing who we are founded our true courage
S I N Nov 2019
I met him standing
In the middle of the lane, awaiting
For some silhouettes, apparently,
For he
Was gazing through the haze
Enveloping the ground of this intricate maze,
Amidst eternities of both
The one behind us and the one of forth
Acquaintance; peevishly there hotching
On his place, like pole earthshaking
Though with not a-lack of grace
This little figure strangèly reminded
Of my own wraiths I thought was far behind me; but never did they leave my soul’s abode,
No matter whether home I or abroad
I always carry them like plummet on a chain
With which all a-way down and down upcoming drowner fane,
Just like pale moon is setting to its further sleep
The same way future drowner does complete
The full life circle of eternal plan,
The one which you could not outran
In vacuous attempt to fool the time
In game that has been riggéd before thine
Name and surname were inscribed in list
Of papyrus and lost in spaceless mist
A relict from the days of yore
you can't save a drowner, If he imagines himself an anchor
person can save himself only by himself
dan d Aug 2019
you led me out to sea
and took the wind from my sails

i dragged you down with me
i grabbed your wrists and down i dove

you pressed your lips to mine
and ****** the life out of me

i looked up at you
with sun behind
and asked you to drown with me
Dream Fisher Dec 2017
They didn't give you feet
To try to fit in shoes tied too tight
Looking at a blank page,
Only reading what others write.
This is your world, don't waste it
Trying to be something your not
We have enough flocks, beeping in unison robots.
Even as I write words I feel as generic as my past self

"Let me guess, Ryan, every person has potential?
It's easy to write the next poem using a stencil
Of the last fifteen years of your life, right?
Or maybe tell me about your father again
And block him from reading it like the chicken **** you are
No matter how many demons battled, you don't ever win.
Until you start to man up or even in these puddles you'll be a drowner"
But here I still stand a loner, lacking a fan base
Lacking a realistic view of life, still a closet I rarely face
"Another lost case, wearing that victimized millennial cap"
But I'm trying to fight a system while most these kids nap
I'm sick of defending myself to my mind, I'm furious
"Then maybe you should take more than writing serious"

They didn't give me this mind
To pull my skull into a head case
Look at this page full of ink drained
Stained only on what I'm writing
Turning my back on a world too wasted
With people faker than the flavors they're tasting
We have enough flocks, none I'm ready to flock to
Even as I write these words I feel as generic as my past self

— The End —