Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Andrew Duggan Nov 2017
A liquid wind blows across fertile loss-covered landscapes.
Seducing and touching, enticing me into a silent embrace.
How does love continue to love in a place like this?

I saw you waiting, looking at the men swimming in the ***** dead water. A faint smile from an old woman, her eyes half closed and fingers bent. The sounds of traffic and voices over the bridge.

I kissed you, and you moaned slightly, the first moment of the world. As the veil of winter grunted along the river bank and the dark clouds began to sing.

Now the trees have too much knowledge in grief. But  I remember the faint-like layers of your eyes and everything that was close to my face.
Sheldon Dsouza Mar 2015
It’s the beginning of the monsoons and of the week,
A clouded chilly one with the clouds blanketing the sun.
I’m struggling to get out of bed and into my daily routine,
Running late as always, there’s never time for fun.

The first rains of the season were not welcomed with a smile,
Cars, Buses and mopeds splashing and spraying water all around.
People cursing the rains and others on the roads,
Racing to the office is not as easy as it may sound.

It’s a dark dull day with no sunshine to light my path,
And the rain to rob me of the dryness I had left.  
As a child I remember this being different in every way,
The rain bringing me cheer and happiness, never indulging in theft.

Stopping at a red light, all wet and soggy,
I see this small figure making way between the vehicles standing.
On every window and door she knocked with enthusiasm,
This little girl hopping around in every puddle landing.

Trying to sell the water lilies she had in her hand,
Not letting the frowns or the drops of rain her spirit lower.
She shines off all the hate and the disgust,
Through the muck and water walking to sell this pretty flower.

All of the dullness and gloom she got rid.
A smile on my face and in my heart she brought,
This little girl with those bright water lilies,
Like the flower she sold, all eyes and hearts she caught.

Bringing smiles and spreading fragrances in times so dull,
The water lily blooms in the muck and conditions degrading.
So did this little ******* this dark rainy day,
Returning cheer and happiness drained in the rain by blooming.
Enigma Sep 2018
Success never came without critique & hate
No matter friend or foe, they'll close down their gate.
The smile will turn into a smirk
The eyes will change into a lurk
Some may even walk on to the other side
But that's when you'll know you're doing it right
Your light maybe blinding to some
and some may even turn to ash
but don't give heed to the glare,
whispers and oh all the gnash.

Dance on your victory, you've made them so proud,
the ones who love you; so bring down the shroud;
of darkness and dullness & shout out to call,
your strength and beauty that some may appal.
Cause' you are a diamond that shines oh so bright,
but some may not see it,
so why don't you guide.
Cause' you've got it right
So stand tall with pride
Cause' you are the light
and you shine so bright.

A.S.
Feel free to express your thoughts.
Joanna May 16
The river flows to the ocean, releasing in me the freedom to love like never before.

Beckoning me, to immerse myself in rays of light that pierce the dark waters below, and wooing me to let passion grow.

he river flows with beauty and charm, removing dullness of vision and adding length to years.

Bringing forth a new tributary it draws me near, similar, and at the same time all its own.

This river flows forth with strength, out of a foundation of stone.
To read more of my writings go to: http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
Ferns Jul 2018
The pile of books
The array of papers
They long-await
that ink will pour
on their vacuous
void of emptiness
For the deadline
draws near
Yet I'm still here
Sitting on my windowsill
Lackadaisically waiting
Certainly expecting
For water to descend
From the firmament
surrounded by dullness
where a mass of clouds
are there to be seen
Sphoorthy Soma Feb 2015
You are not the sun
Coz I can live in darkness
You are not the star
As I can take the dullness
You are my ground without whom I cannot stand
Without whom I cannot enjoy all the light all the life in the world
You keep me on ur ground but yet make me feel like on cloud 9
You make it look so easy
Where all others fall behind
You touch me like an angel and hug me like a baby
I want you to be mine for all eternity!
Evan Stephens May 14
She reminds me
of old, painful
geometries.

Her close-grained
rasp and enchanted,
pierced warble -
a close kiss
& a hammer.

"Some days
all you need
is one good
thought, strong
in your mind."

Her voice
is Orpheus,
looking back,
is Ophelia,
on the willow
branch.

It shakes
dullness from
the soul, the
way you clean
a coin
with salt.
frances Feb 2014
there is a finality
a fatality
a dullness that wasn't there before
I know it, I see it
I don't move you anymore
absolution
there is nothing
I can give
or gain

"I think I'm done now"
"I think I've lost you"

there is a vacancy
a deficiency
my heart doesn't quite fit to yours
it kills me, I made this
desolation
splitting
and breaking

I'm sorry


*I think I'd drown in the spill of blood
Lizzy Nov 2015
It's a darkness that surrounds you.
It covers your eyes,
And swims in your ears.
To keep you from seeing light,
Or hearing laughter.

Instead you see everything
In a dull and dark way.
Colors are no longer vibrant,
And lines seem to be blurred.
There is no more beauty in a sunset,
Or majesty in the ocean.
It's just water now.

And every sound is muffled now.
You can't differentiate your favorite song
From any other anymore.
The sound of laughter is more bitter than sweet.
Every song is the same bleak humm.
And laughter just makes me wish I was deaf.

The darkness even dulls touch.
A kiss doesn't make your heart beat fast anymore.
And contact seems nauseating.
A kiss is just a reminder
That nothing good lasts.
And most other interaction makes my skin crawl.

But now the darkness is in your brain.
In here, sometimes it's not dull at all.
Sometimes the darkness
Takes the shape of a monster.
A monster that whispers terrible things
And just gets louder when you try not to listen.
Sometimes the darkness
Feels like war inside your mind.

But yes, again, the darkness is dull.
Sometimes there is no monster,
No war,
And no yelling at all.
Sometimes when the darkness gets in your mind,
It becomes a silence.
I can't make out a clear thought,
Because all there is
Is silence.
The darkness takes the shape
Of death.
The silence, the nothingness of death.
And it becomes part of you,
Making your mind nothing but silence
And nothingness.

But the worst part about the darkness
Is my inability to communicate its existence.
I can't make anyone understand
The many shapes it can take.
How it can be torturous and loud
But comfortable just the same.

It's easy to talk about the monster,
Because it's something foreign and
Something present.
But everything else,
The dullness of senses
And the silence it becomes,
Can't be expressed.
Because in these forms,
The darkness is absence of life.
It's absence of color,
Sound,
Touch,
And thought.

And it's so hard to paint a picture
Of something that isn't even there.
I can paint a picture of a monster
With ****** teeth and devilish eyes.
But I cannot paint the nothingness
The darkness so often is.

And to me, nothingness is the most dangerous.
I can fight a monster.
But I cannot fight nothing.
Nothingness will swallow you.
It will take over your senses
And thoughts,
And eventually will to live.

Life is colorful.
Life should be loud.
Life should be funny.
And sometimes painful.
But when the silence,
The nothingness arrives,
There is no color.
There is no sound.
No laughter.
Or even pain.
There is no life at all.
Madisen Kuhn Aug 2018
if you look up, you will see
the bright-eyed and
the wide-mouthed—
the interesting, the casual, the adored
glistening in the warm night
peered at through microscopes and
telescopes and stethoscopes
far and far away

we are so desperate to be close
close and close and
close enough to see the blemishes
the scarring and the peeling
effaced by obvious and biased inner-commentary
they’re just not as red or sore as mine
perhaps they were formed under
a different kind of sun

what does the unfamiliar heart say?
does it sound at all like mine?
will i ever escape the sloppy grasp of dullness?
will the world swallow me whole?
if i count the days on both hands
on toes, on eyelashes—
if i only eat green things and
read tattered books and
pretend that i don’t mind—will i ever
break the mirror?
will i find seven years of good luck
between the jagged edges?

to exist as a reflection
is to not exist at all
there are lonely, dark purple heavens
waiting for you to sever your longing gaze
to stop lying to yourself
to hop onto the back of the cow
and begin living somewhere beyond the moon—
to realize, with closed eyes
you belong to the sky
Caterra Jackson Nov 2018
Jealousy is sneaky.
It makes you believe that
you’re not really pretty.
It plays tricks with your mind,
It makes you relate only
with negativity all the time.
Jealousy is fake.
It makes you mistake dullness with greatness.
It leans more on back biting and shade.
Jealousy is dangerous.
Even though you’re Fabulous,
It makes you feel uptight about your lack of confidence.
It makes you feel useless,
It keeps you in malice and offense.
Jealousy lives to compete.
In order to control mind games and accept defeat,
To keep your jealousy on duplicitous repeat.
js Nov 2018
It withers

near a bare
tree,

under skies
filled with
gray.

It withers

with tired petals
amid dullness, and

rain.

I see it wither

here.

I see what

remains.

Poor haggard

thing

with no place to
go.

I see it wither here

without
ever seeing
it

grow.
Eloisa Feb 8
When winter wind begins to howl around
and murmurs through my sad and lengthy days
I will sit down and try to write a  poem
and find my strength and solace in a phrase

When stand naked in the park are all the trees
and the plants in the garden stop to grow
I’ll write again another piece of poetry
and dream of cheeriness and love to flow

When sunrise seems scant, snow days aplenty
and dullness lingers long for months and end
I’ll write a verse to keep me company
and wish it be meaningful and well penned

The winter god will not dispirit me
when I send message with a poetry
~Snowy days ahead
Lizzy Jan 2017
I cannot explain
The dullness that has invaded
My tired brain.
I don't know why
I don't want to try
To do the things
I know I should.

I can't be bothered
With questions about
The future
About the world around me
Because finding the answers
Requires much more energy
Than I have to offer.

How do I learn
How do I grow
With this incessant
Low hum
Ringing throughout my body?
There's no ignoring it.

I'm a slave
To my unnecessary pain.
And I hate being too weak
Too busy
Too apathetic
To fight this depression.

All I can do is laugh
And keep pushing,
Hoping that one day
I will wake up with the power
To do something about
The sadness that keeps me
From everything I have yet to reach.

For now,
I'm so sorry
That my anxiety
And my sadness
Make me stagnant
In the face of truth.

I'm so sorry
That I feel the need to
Appologize for the way I am.
But the way I am
Is not the way I want to be.
Burlesque fatuous is the implication of your emotional daily pretentiousness. I am seldom, otherwise a psychopath, able
to own fraternity which I can't
discernment or jester because there is an art to love and ******
And it's a conventional edit to your own dullness. I am vivid,
Debris to impersonation.
I am absent but identical
to thin air. I am a Prometheus
Arabian night in Lysistrata premise.
My words may remind you of the day I held your eyes in infinite cluster. Perhaps my love isn't enough for you to understand. For example, the glassed vain is paralysis iridium illicitness which is svelte to inadmissible synthesis. The cloud let are torsion, assail with cypress and impossible solariums; and the propane was a sensation of disjointed loveliness.
Every time I go for a walk, mosquitoes understand my lonely talks because they sip my blood at a quarter past ten but these glazed roads scrutinized my wrist, escorted vernal preposterous blue/purple relentless ghostly cheekbones.
Thought I could festive the blaze among the cedar bridge road
but take a pause and look at my skin and thighbones,
Preterists to flowered unless I smile and tell you
"This is heartbreak"*

*Unable to keep up with your facetiousness, personality failed me temporarily. Mind melting in a moment of dissonance,
This cognitive refrain refracts the 'I' that oscillates accordingly.
One's morphology, tuned to its own metric of change.
Hypnos whispers and sleep beckons, taunting insomnia (which makes a mockery of all humans) but Morpheus has no time for anything less than grandiose archetypes.
Last night I may have dreamt or drunk some foolish things, told people the truth untruthfully, let slip more than I should have.
What a pity, secrecy. They say
information wants to be free.
Who lingers in the details?
Past memories are liberated only by the present. I stand here in the downpour, soaking it all in.
Compassion, god is in the rain.
My fulgurite heart resting on the palm of a deity, at a tilt, slowly it's sliding off; when it fell I gasped.
The reflection of wide eyes in each of its atria, emotion flowing through these venae cavae, those
dilated eyes shimmered before it shattered, gleaming with passion. Us, in the blink of an I.
written on May 13th, 2017.
Emeka Mokeme Aug 2018
Here standing again
at the edge of the cliff,
struggling against the
force of the wind.
Drenched and cold,
thinking and wondering
what to do.
This is what I was seeking.
I wanted to feel the
storm in my bones.
Fearing what I want and
wanting what I fear.
Desiring and yearning for it,
yet distanced myself from it.
Never been more sure
about changing than now.
Angels are busy working and
trying to show visions
of heaven.
But here am I clawing the
ground trying to get hell for you.
Now I have to stop struggling,
for this striving and toiling are not
yielding desired fruits.
I'm so breathless from all this
going up and down
trying to make it work.
Rest is not so bad after all this
rigours of running around.
Dullness has taken over the heart
of one who suppose to rule.
Stagnation cannot be tolerated
and condoned or we all go down.
Change is needful urgently.
It is time for you to learn the balance.
I bring from the east,
I bring from the west,
I bring from the south,
I bring from the north
the power of balance.
It begins in the spirit.
We can balance anything.
Our voice, our work, our body.
You can even balance your sadness.
First you find patience.
Perhaps you will meet patience in this
sunlight and become good friends.
I will tell you again.
I will tell you again and again
until your inside knows.
It takes a long time to learn the art of balance.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Nat Lipstadt Aug 19
I. nope.



II.
long-windedness verbosity
diffuseness prolixity
wordiness rambli­ng
circuity discursiveness
redundancy tautology
tediousness verbi­age
verboseness length
longevity permanence
garrulity windiness
v­olubility circumlocution
expansiveness babbling
periphrasis gushi­ng
blathering protractedness
waffling lengthiness
iteration repet­ition
prating prattling
jabbering digressiveness
dreariness tediu­m
deadliness wandering
repetitiousness repetitiveness
pleonasm co­nvolution
logorrhoea boringness
maundering superfluity
duplicatio­n tiresomeness
monotony reiteration
gabbiness informality
mouthin­ess diffusion
logorrhea wordage
blah-blah dryness
dullness boredo­m
sameness loquaciousness
talkativeness loquacity
freeness orotun­dity
roundaboutness breadth
gobbledegook gassiness
wittering mult­iloquence
perissology big mouth
gift of the gab garrulousness
staleness tallness
ask and answered
ChildofGodyay Oct 2018
Under your loving hands, like an infant, I rest, protected in hand.
Under the vast emptiness and dullness of the galaxy, your light shines, your robe, O so white!
SO glorious your face, your presence!

Your presence, it caresses me, with just a little bit more, I would have been crushed and would have been drowned under my own tears and would have dented the marble floor with certain and whole-hearted knees.

How marvelous is that cross...a word won't fit it.
That cross...if only words, dots, dashes, and punctuation can have more to offer. An endless murky drowning sea of words of different fonts and sizes won't quite make the mark.

You made my mouth like a sharpened sword. Ready to fight for your name, ready to stand my ground, ready to make the darkness fear and make fallen angels regret their mistakes. They already are.
ready to open hearts and minds, as you call many to you.

You make me like a polished arrow. Ready to go wherever you shoot me, ready to tear down what the devil has built. Ready to have your word, the gospel tied to me, as I fly through the spiritual realm and spread your word, the gospel. Simply the gospel. NOTHING MORE NOTHING LESS.

You hid me in the shadow of your hand. You cover me. You protect me. You hide me even if it seemed like all eyes were on me. Maybe they are on you. I want to be more like you in image O LORD.  

You concealed me in your quiver, God USE me!!! IF only words quite make sounds of hunger and thirst and the cries of my spirit and my new heart to you! You polished me and I am ready.
Ready whenever you say its time to go, or then I have to stand strong. Ready whenever, wherever, however you call me.

You polished me.
I am sharpened.
I am a polished arrow and have a sharpened mouth.
"Okay LORD GOD, I am ready."
USEEEE MEEEE AHHHH I WANT TO TRULY SINCERELY, WHOLEHEARTEDLY LOVEEEE YOU AND TRUST YOUOUOUOUOU AN TRULY HUNGER AND THIRST FOR YOU!!!!
Hannah Christina Dec 2018
I beg that her innocent eyes do not conceal the same pain that lurks within my own.
She is life and she is beauty
Joy
Love
Please let me believe only that.
Please,
She shows from her heart kindness, pure.
Happy hope.

That is what they say about me.
That I know only hope and joy.
That innocence is my clothing
But they do not see the pain in my infected heart
And I did not see it in her.

Oh, do not let it be.

She truly is kindness and hope and...

So am I.
The light is real, only tired
And hurt.
It shines through the cracks in our hearts, all divided.
It shines through dullness and sin

But as I halfway expose my shame, I see her do the same.
In throwaway lines wry admissions.
A casual mention dulls the pain
I see her do the same.

I wish we could be pure
All the way honest, even in our blackness
And let our pain and goodness show alike in truth, rather than letting the infection spread.

Please don't conform to the mass of us hurting and hiding it.
Bleed in your open way
Outside
And let the stain be washed away
And stand wide awake and clean
With innocent eyes
i hate punishing other people
for the hell you gave to me
all because they share your name.
i know they aren’t you, they’re good people,
but i can’t help but feel uneasy about it.
i hear your name and it rings in my head.
it takes me back to where i was
when i knew you, when i cared about you,
when you lied to me, when you ruined me,
and it brings the sinking feeling in my stomach
and the pain in my chest that i once felt
all over again.
i feel the familiar and dark shades of gray all over again.
i feel the dullness all over again.
i feel the fear all over again.
i feel the weight on my shoulders all over again.
i feel the pain in my soul all over again.
i feel the coldness in everything all over again.
i feel the putrid disgust all over again.
i feel the disconnection from myself all over again.
i feel the anger all over again.
i feel my guard go up all over again.
i feel the distaste in my all over mouth.
i feel the burning in my veins all over again.
i feel your radiating hate all over again.
when i hear those four letters
it takes me back to where i was
where my youth and sense of safety
was forcefully stolen.

- you forever ruined your name for me

// q.h.
June 27, 2019
Allie Pine Oct 26
Faked tears
          
    Fall to the ground
  
Plock plock plock

They **** with your mind

             You can’t think

                                                ­               You twirl and twirl

     It gets to your head

                    You can’t think.  
                          
            ­         So you act.

Regretful dullness fills you the next morning.

                       Look away

You cry                                                          

                                   ­                                                                Faked tears

                                                            ­   Fall to the ground.
Next page