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GreenTrees Dec 2013
Near the waters edge quiet souls peer into the shimmering reflections
Skipping hearts and angel feathers dance and pirouette tours chaînés déboulés
Each day passes and her words carry me thru my days like the endless score of a songbird
In her eyes I fell into forever never looking back
We fall weight less into each others arms and dandelions dream of still afternoons
riding indigo dragonflies by the waters edge
She is the lake and there I see my reflection shimmering quietly by the waters edge


COPYRIGHT 2013
Karl von Mecklenburg
Jordan Rowan Dec 2015
I'm moving on again
The storm is coming through
I haven't been home in awhile
But there isn't much to do
The temple drags along a razor's edge
Like the beauty that I've found
But before I can enter in
I've got a soul to pin down

There's a warrior inside
And I can see it from a mile
It's probably just lost
Behind a painful little smile
If I ever get too close
Sometimes it washes over me
And the end of the day
It's all I want to see

In forces and in friends
There's a sorrow in youth
But where my words fall apart
My presence screams the truth
If all has broken down again
And nothing turns out right
Sometimes just a friendly face
Can get us through the night

Wear the face you want to
And wear it like a star
Because I don't care much for paint
It's the person that you are
Up high in the swirling mind
That dances through the night
I've fallen for the thoughts inside
May I make them mine?
Joanna Jul 31
The river runs in a direct course, moving forward with gentle force. Its sparkling waters feed all that come near.

This river has a mysterious pathway that like a puzzle that is about to unfold. Moving with a determination that holds no fear, this river is full of pure, clear waters.

The eagle soars with a strength that is bold, through storm clouds and more.  While journeying daily to a hidden fountain, this bird of flight seeks refuge in the cleft of the mountain.

And to build its habitat where nothing can obstruct its plan to live freely in a place that is no longer a barren land.
To read more of my writings go to:http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
shamamama May 7
At first we flew with timeless wings
Into the dreams and beyond.  
And when the truths came
and monstered us all,
we had to cope or fall

I WAS walking on eggshells,                  
Walking on the razor's edge,
         I fell  into life
onto the ground of truth
                                           He IS walking on eggshells
                                           He IS walking on the razor's edge
                                           Life on one side, Death on the other

We are not Born in the air with timeless wings,
           Gravity grants space and time
                       And yet still
            What is up must come down
  
May the landing  be gentle,
like a lion's roar when it
comes to the mountain peak to
announce itself,
May it be wakening,
like the first summer sunrise burning into the day,
May it be embracing
like the entwining vines
racing upwards towards the sun
to gather all the light
Facing the truth around addiction, codependency, and just understanding what really drives us to be alive, drives us towards our own truth, surrendering to the pain of confusion and not knowing.. I write this poem, because always, always , even when my heart is broken, I am in favor of choosing life and the light.
Robert G Page Mar 2015
by
rgpage

In this quiet time of night, I lie alone and prey to the bitter pain of
joy's absence. Lost in my mind's shallow thoughts the sharp fragments of
happy memories since shattered ***** at the sensitive fringes of my sleep.

Sleep: Nature's sanctuary

A quiet haven, an island set apart
from the daily consciousness of life
where my thoughts may at last run free.

An island with white sandy shores as
far as the eye can see. Blemished only
by my solitary figure walking the blue
water's edge.

And the forests of my paradise, their
deep green density gives substance to
my world. Often I stop to ponder their
far reaching greenness.

The warm subtle breeze carrying the
fragrance of this foliage across my
face, fills my nostrils with the pleasures
of nature.

And occasionally a gull overhead,
drifting unchallenged on the soft
warm currents of the azure, as free
in his world as I in mine; lends companionship.

All of the sudden in the beat of a heart,
from no where a large black cloud appears
to smother the sun's warm light, turning
the blue sky and green foliage black
and the white sand that I once walked
upon a cold gray.

And just ahead of me lying there in
death's humiliation, my winged companion;
soaked and scorned at the dark water's
edge.

I awaken:

This cold room and bed the greatest part of my conscious moment, and the
sound of a distant train bell mocking the destruction of my comfort;
its havoc upon my sleep done it now moves on. Saddened I once again wade
through the shallow bogs of my loneliness, and the pains of memories of
the love and life i'd wasted return. This painful sleepless night a most
cruel retribution for my past. So firmly entrenched it seems I may never
return to my paradise; yet remain in this cold room to suffer the long
night's tortures.

Returning:

The warm sunlight, and gentle caress
of the water's pulse upon the white
sand.

And overhead my pure white friend
again drifts on the warm currents of
air, heralding not my return
but praising my presence....

...for my presence alone, gives
life to this warm yet oh so precariously
balanced paradise.

The white beach with its warm sand
leads me on my journey to the morning,
as I walk the blue water’s edge.
guy scutellaro Mar 2016
through an open window
when a bulb burns out
a sliver of moonlight turns
tiny eyes red
and on little feet
the dimmest of dreams
from a corner
comes crawling.

when the night comes
through eyes closed
the room turns inside out.
the heart pounds away the seconds.
the edge moves closer
and the clock smiles.


when the night comes...

on the corner below my window
shadows whispering gather.
broken clouds
rolling dice that will never fall...

and on my knees
praying into the void
the toilet don't flush,
the toaster won't pop...
i grab the smoking toaster
and throw it out the window
the corner boys look up
the corner boys
are rushing up the stairs,
me and the rat
waiting for the cops to come,
me and the rat
when the night won't leave
at 3 a.m.
eating donuts.
Zane Mar 2017
I look at your eyes and they
remind me of my despair over
my relationships.

Many days of late, I find myself
truly pondering whether or not I
am cut out to be a human being.

It seems my flaws are too many.
To quote Jesse Lacey, "my bright
is too slight to hold back all my
dark."

I wish, I could write poems about
how I'm getting better, but that
isn't the case. My emotional
life feels like a downward spiral.

I feel like I'm building toward
something. i don't feel I have
any happiness in anything I do.

My default is numb. It's so rare
that I experience happiness anymore.
Something is wrong with me.
Something is wrong with me.
Something is wrong with me.
I don't want to live like this.
Delia Darling Jul 2018
On the day that I lost my name
I took a nice long walk
To the edge of infinity,
Searching for it

You know, they say the earth is round
And as I leaned to peer over the side of it
There, lay a vast blanket of outer space
No continuous ground— like they said
No path to move on from
Dead-end roads  and deadened feet
Had led me to this edge, where
I cut myself on contemplative thorns

“At what point did he stop loving me?”
“My friends are gone”
“Rehab couldn’t fix me”
“I don’t want to wake up tomorrow”

No, the world isn’t round
My thoughts are round
And so are my vices
Always spinning and falling
Into a perpetual mental cycle

So when I looked beyond the cliffs of my flat Earth
Into the depths of nothingness
I pondered what it would feel like

To
      tippy
                 toe
                         my way over

                  To lose myself forever

If I never wake up tomorrow
Would they remember my name?
the moon light above your skin
your edges moving
making my head spin
the taste
the smell
all new
but felt so familiar
like I've been there before
your body
floating
your hair between my fingers
you touch everything so blue
darling,
but my body
is crimson like fire

[and my eyes turned black like I'd known all your secrets]
Kee Nov 2018
My edge
My straight edge
Cuts deep
And doesn’t want to let go
My straight edge
Loves to make you remember everything
But she wants you to forget too
My straight edge
Loves a game
And she’ll play it with you
My straight edge
Is a force to be reckoned
Beware
My straight edge
Is my worst nightmare
And paradise from hell
My straight edge
Is many things
But never has she left me
marvin m brato Aug 2018
When life becomes meaningless
no matter what you do seems useless
and all opportunities you grab wasted
broken dreams lurking with self busted
everything you hold on now starts to fall
drags your feeling pushed against the wall
realization of your life is at the cutting edge.

When life becomes the darkest
no hope of light made you weakest
things you touched soon are dead
failure always cling to you instead
you try to survive from uncertainties
yet your ego succumbs to all the vanities
Doubt overcomes self falling to the cutting edge.

Though life becomes vague
Do not give up to fight the plague
For quitters do not win any endeavor
Hang-on lit the ember to light you with fervor
For as long as you have the courage to go forward
Then no amount of deterrents can make you a coward
And in the end you will be able to override the cutting edge.
Invisible Jan 7
I thought I found a way out.
I thought that I could get away.
But you never disappear.

I thought you would chase after me.
I thought you would hunt me down,
But you just sat there, waiting.

I thought I wouldn't return.
I thought I left it all behind,
But you knew I would come back.

Somehow, I always came back.
I couldn't let you go.
Even though you ruined me.

I could run, but never hide.
But I could never run fast enough.
You always pulled me back.

I could run to the edge of the world,
You'd still find me.
My only escape is death.

But then again,
Jumping from the edge of a cliff
Seems like too much.

Learning to live with you
Is not an option.
I think I'm better off running.
Figure out what I'm talking about.
On the edge of...every single thing.
Whatever this is can't seem to leave me alone.
I'm so done.
Tyler Atherton Oct 2018
All these voices,
Yet I'm still alone.
I need a friend,
I whispered in an empty room.
No one answered...
They all say,
Grow up but don't give in,
Move on but not away.
But, lets face it...
The people that promise they'll always be there,
Never stay...
So just,
Don't fall in love...
Fall off a cliff,
It hurts a lot less...


© Copyright Tyler Atherton
Nassif Younes Apr 2016
Fall hard
Or breathe harder.
It's so easy
When you put it like that.
My bones,
Which were barely ever able to keep me standing
Will break like eggs -
Every one of them.

"Don't do it"
Interrupts a passing stranger
Who would just love to tell his friends
About how he saved someone's life today.
"It will hurt more than you think."
"Maybe" I reply,
"But I'm taking the pain down with me.

That's right, I'm talking to you" I say
To the cold, crushing tightness in my chest
That my teenage self was sure would be gone by now -
"How does it feel now?
Who's the one in control now?!"

And I really am,
For the first time,
In control.
I'm in control over all those kids at school
Who insisted they were only teasing.
They'll have to remember me now
Even after I've splattered their faces
All over the pavement;
Along with all those looks of dismissal
People would give me
Before returning to their conversations
About how much they admire difference.

"Don't do it."
Says another voice -
A cop this time -
"Let's talk." he says
In his negotiator's voice
"You don't want to do this.
Trust me,
You
Don't
Want
To
Do
This."
****.
He's a clever man, this one.
He knows no one on Earth
Would ever want their last conversation
To have been with a cop.

I have to concede.
"Alright then officer,
Take me home."
Sucker.
I'll beat him to it next time.
Tomorrow, the choice will still be to
Fall hard
Or breathe harder.
I just really need
To write all this down first.
M Salinger Jul 2018
A moment.

A line between
empowered
& defiant

holding within in it
the tenderness of our gaze

The night calls me
sometimes
tauntingly,
while sleep escapes,
sometimes
earnestly
to show me the truth
that day
hides

it calls deep within
my being,
like you

it resonates with
my darkness,
like you

Will you stay with me,
for a moment

of real honesty
& if you want,
silence

The valley of space there,
& between us
pulling me in,
like you

a moment of freefall
& endless endings
ours,
there to be
chosen

where we find
a way
to be suspended
in the
warmth between
you & I

I stand
on the sharpest edge,
below, the water surges
over the rock face
deep teal and chilling
a reminder that
beautiful
can also be
destructive

like you.

In awe and wonder
I'm trapped
in these
moments.
Inspired by the great beauty of British Columbia and how it's grandeur and imposing nature can be reminiscent of imperfect love
liv Apr 14
i’m standing on the edge of a cliff.
i’m waiting for the wind to push me over the edge.
i don’t have the courage to jump.
the only thing that’s keeping me on the cliff,
is a shimmer of hope that someone will grab me,
and pull me away from the edge,
pull me to safety,
and they’ll squeeze me so tight
that all my pieces fit back together.
i’m standing on the edge of a cliff.
no one ever comes.
no wind ever blows.
critiques?
Cweeta Cwumble May 2016
I followed my dear friends to the edge of a cliff
and was greeted by a peculiar thing.
There, standing on the edge of the earth
was a swing set waiting just for me.
Her thick black seat and strong metal arms
cradled me while together we flew
into the starry night canvas, sprawling
dark blue, except for a splatter of twinkling
firefly-speckles, from the cityscape
to the moon.

Each time she lifted me I felt closer
to the heavens. I raised my chin
and let the gentle kiss of raindrops
wash away my sins, cleansing
and revitalizing my body like a baptism.
I’ll never forget the smell of the rain
on the freshly-sprouted grass, with dew drops
made from the breath of my friends
hanging delicately in the sweet air
like glass beads strung on a wire
while the crisp wind carried me higher and higher
and the most brilliant masterpiece ever created
was painted across the entire night sky.
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