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Nights move  like a forgotten  ghost unwanted by all.    
A vision  unseen to all but one.

Down damp streets he haunts the same path every night just befor the dawn.
The empty hearts gather to drown togther in the sea.

Togther feeling so very alone.
Can we cast shadows in the darkness project happiness in such gloom to return the   same old haunts again and again.
A wheel  rolling  without question.
On into the emptyness of my night.

Waitting for a return that  never will be.
Cursing the problem never understanding it was her and me.
As the dream turn to the drunk.

The painter paints no longer sunsets but
Nights and his thoughts of blue to gray.

Warmth in the darker corners gives a view to
the young and  the still hopefull.
Tiping my half empty glass I wish them to never know pain.

Finding a home with other empty hearts caught.
In ***** sheets im haunted by the ghost of my
former self.

A puddle stepped in cast waves of reflected neon light.
As we play a roll unknown to all  
At typewritter  I sit.
Listening to To the bar and bottles clatter men and women's
laughter and soon forgotten fight.
Yerning to be free so is the emptyness of my night.
Terry O'Leary May 2013
AWAKENING

Sleep and slumber, dreams of wonder... weaving,
morning’s vacuum broke the spell
Pitted pillow, note of parting... leaving,
“from your friend, a fond farewell”
Sunrise throbbing, twilight aching... grieving,
daydreams, flashbacks, nightmares knell
Pale phantasms, visions sneaking... thieving,
plot to fill the empty shell

12 DELIRIA

1st Delirium: COLLAPSES

Fractured sky bolts, billows bursting... rumbling,
heavens tighten, turn the vise
Horsemen saddle shafts of lightning... tumbling,
jagged highways must suffice
Ruptured skyways, hailstones crackling... crumbling,
naked pearls of paradise
Toxic tongues of laughter stinging... stumbling,
ocean buckets choked with ice
Droplets drumming, thunder muzzled... mumbling,
washed out whispers pay the price
Smothered blazes, cinders smoking... humbling,
ashes shaped in sacrifice

2nd Delirium: DESCENTS

Asphalt alleys, ashen faces... frowning,
blowing bubbles, chewing gum
Drinking ale from tavern tankards... downing,
moonlit beads of painted ***
Stony stars and sea misshapen... drowning,
humble rivers’ rhythms hum
Apparitions aspirating... clowning,
diamonds dying , minstrels strum
Incandescent candles conquered... crowning,
vacant vapours, cold and numb

3rd Delirium: FATES

Tempest turmoil, tapered turrets... holding,
dungeons, dragons, chains and racks
Wheels of fortune, Tarot temptress... molding,
Hangmen, Towers, One Eyed Jacks
Sand dune castles, cryptic candles... folding,
warping walls of liquid wax
Idols colder, combed and coddled... scolding,
hide in fissures, peek through cracks

4th Delirium: LOST SOULS

Sunken cities, pilgrims peering... gawking,
squinting eyeballs, blazing sun
Janus facing, shepherds chasing... stalking,
friends embrace before they shun
Tearooms steaming, tumult teeming... talking,
lovers listen, poets pun
Broken stones unanchored, quaking... rocking,
slipping, falling, one by one
Beaten pathways, footsteps marking... mocking,
wedged in webs which spiders spun
Circus shelters, big tops tumbling... locking,
people pacing, soon they’re none
Numbered exits, zeros numbing... knocking,
midnight daylight’s days undone
Moon blood shackles, shivers shaming... shocking,
starlight striders streaking, stun
Hushed but harried hermits waiting... walking,
restless rainbows on the run
Pixies, elves, and echoes bouncing... balking,
fading fast when dawn’s begun
Bantum butterflies are flitting... flocking
sometimes conquered, overrun
Hocus pokus, seers focus... squawking,
voodoo wavered, witchcraft won

5th Delirium: INTROSPECTION

Sundown furnace, fires fading... coughing,
dusky dew drops drain the air
Empty chalice, sipped in silence... quaffing,
thirsting shadows unaware
Looking glass and lattice scorning... scoffing,
local loser gapes and stares
Faces covered, dancing naked... doffing,
peering inside, hope despairs

6th Delirium: THE VOID

Tales of taboos, mystic mythos... missing,
windows shuttered, bolted door
Kindled candles, tongues and anvils... hissing,
heavy hammers, echoes roar
Dark deceivers, raven charmers... kissing,
draging demons from the shore
Hopeless hollows filled with doubters... dissing
standing empty - nevermore

7th Delirium: SEARCHING

Martyred monks haunt runic ruins ... waiting,
banging broken bells below
Vaulted hallways, voided voices... grating,
churning Chinese chimes aglow
Granite graveyards, spectres spooking... skating,
blackened bushes, roses grow
****** dwarfs seek mutant migrants... mating,
packing parcels, ice and snow

8th Delirium: NIGHTTIME

Throbbing drumheads, fingers blazing... steaming,
coins of copper, beggars plea
Rusty residues of resin... streaming,
opal amber filigree
Orphan shades in shallow shadows... teeming,
steeping twigs in twilight tea
Cloister doorsteps, Prophets gaming... scheming,
tracing tracks of destiny
Blacksmiths blanching, horseshoes glowing... gleaming,
partially sheathed in black debris
Phantoms feigning, nightmares scathing... screaming,
dusty dreamers drifting free

9th Delerium: EMPTYNESS

Water wheels in wastelands... turning,
drowning relics in the slum
Rumpled rags of fashioned burlap... burning,
lit by bandits blind and dumb
Pastured prisons, ponies bridled ... yearning,
forest fairies under thumb
Sounds inside of cauldrons coughing... churning,
blaring bugles, tattooed drum

10th Delirium: ALIENATION

Rain unravelling, wistfully weeping... falling,
treacle trickling, fickle sky
Mushrooms sprinkled, visions sprouting... sprawling,
seagulls drowning, dolphins die
Rabble gasping, spirits broken... crawling,
lonely lonesome swallows cry
Babbling brooks and breakers ebbing... bawling
puppies paddle, puppets sigh
People passing ripple past me... calling,
rainbow colours, collars high
Chaos seething, lepers looting... stalling,
stealing stallions on the sly
Pencils pausing, scholars scrambling... scrawling,
scratching scribbles, asking why

11th Delirium: JETSAM

Silver sails sway pallid pirates... prowling,
Jolly Rogers, wind and sound
Parrots perching, tattered feathers... fouling,
tethered talons, tied and bound
Shipwrecked foghorns, trumpets stranded... howling,
spiral springs of time unwound
Magic moonlight, shimmers shaking... scowling,
burnt out matchsticks washed aground
Prairie wolfs, coyotes calling... yowling,
witching hours, midnight hounds
Tightrope walkers, grizzlies grunting... growling,
seeking islands, lost and found

12th Delirium: RELIEF

Slumber shattered, vapours captive... haunting,
chained in mirrors, breaking free
Scarlet skylines, daylight dawning... daunting,
rivers rushing to the sea
Silence softens, sandmen whisper... wanting,
piercing rafters, turning keys
Shadows shudder, notions fluster... flaunting,
moonbeam bullets meant for me
Mind in migraine, meadows trembling... taunting,
sparrows speak in harmony

REAWAKENING

Pitter patter, teardrops paling... pearling,
salting scarves in secret drawers
Mist amongst us, smoke rings rising... curling,
climbing from the ocean floors
See-saw circles, senses swerving... swirling,
swept away with silver oars
Courtyard jesters, sceptres twisting... twirling,
push the past to foreign shores
Passing pangs of passions heaving... hurling,
burning bridges, closing doors
Roses wither, icons waning... whirling,
time decays and time restores
Jason Leimer Nov 2010
The business has closed.
Your with out a job.
Yep the city is empty.
Darkness surrounds the building
Like a shadow at five o clock.
Yep your empty as well.

The end has come
Oh why did you have to close?
My hometown Reno slowly
Turning into emptyness.
josh wilbanks Jun 2016
I've been told that a catapiller wrapped snuggly in it's cacoon like the bed-time burrito of my youth feels very simular to the feeling i give when i hug. I've been told that i squeez just right, with the warmth of a summer night. I've been told I hug like a lover seeing her soldier for the first time in years. The few people i hug ask me how i hug so well.
I don't.
I hug with the pain of yesterday.
I hug with the scars on my wrists and the blood on my legs.
I hug with the overdoses, the addictions, the emptyness, the abondonment.
When i hug, i send a message.
Something came to me and told me to write this one. Sorry it's ***, but i think it's better this way.
Lady Gonzo Oct 2010
We live in lies only to mask are truths.
Passionet moments cant match hours of endless
day's.

Drowning in the ***** and pills to maintain that illusion.
Ive lost the person and gained only a costume.
Ananya zootz Jun 2015
The time sways
Forth and back
Through the light
Happiness shines
Smiling bright
Everything that felt fine
Now are crowded in a sack
Closed, taped, not my way
It kills me,little slow deaths
To have them go with
A part of me alive
Why do the cure of emptyness
Has to have an end
Left with that painless ache
That creates a hole deep in pain
A member lost in my chaos
Returned by their ignorance
In the place which thy fitted
Now asks for coverage
It can't even be masked
For they cutted it broad and wide
It kills me,little slow deaths
To have them go
With a part of me alive.
That they never feel
How my elated heart smiled
When their smiles were around
They never cared for what
I gave up in the flick of eyes
Mesmerised by the sunkissed times
All they did was,
Find the ink to my page
And filled me up with their
Promising words
All they did then was
Give up on me
When they found that
I was filled up to brimm
So they took away me from me
With some that belonged there's
And with some that I never cared.
All they did was left me bereft.
I felt devastated for I actually pass the words I say. I have lost the shine of my daylight, life is there with its usual casualties, but those aren't who brightened the night.
Dylan Mar 2015
I am as empty as a can. The bigger the can, the bigger the emptyness. How do i know if the can is empty? Because i am.
Scatts Jun 2014
i will be famous and that is for sure

i will write and write a lot
people will love me
and hipsters will use my quotes as Facebook statuses
you know hipsters like to brag they read
and critics would glorify my prose
even though I never liked critics at all
(if they don't write, hoy can they even judge other's work?)

mum would be proud
her girl finally made it after all that hard work
she's finally succeding after that time her boyfriend dumped her
and she spent months doing nothing but
going outside, a little
crying, much
writing, very very much
writing like her life depended of it
and now honey finally made it
her name now appears in book covers
in shiny gold cursive

my life will be shiny gold cursive too
i will spend my money in libraries and nice hats
and eat swiss chocolates in a king sized bed
(loaded with pillows, of course)
huge lines for book signings
******* shades with crystals and the pointy upper corner thing
i will be interviewed for famous magazines
and have margaritas in pretty glasses by the pool side
and get drunk, but fancily
with cigars and diamonds and couture dresses
yes sir, i will live good
and you will remember

you will remember as you flip the pages of my book
that time when you insisted on reading my poems
not because you like poems, since you hate them
just because your vanity was stronger
you will flip though my best seller
your name as title
no picture, just pure white emptyness
just your name and mine in a side
(by your side, like i used to believe i wanted to live)
you will read about you
after all this time, you will see
i will make sure i say something nice about you here and there
because you were stardust
but honestly, you were more of a black hole
and i will them them about that
i will tell them everything
that day when you called
that day when you didn't
that day when you told me writing was a waste of time
that day when you said "maybe we would be better off apart"
that day, a week later, when you got a new lady as company
they will know you
they will ask about you
and i won't answer

until i win a really good prize
a prize good enough to stand up and say a little speech
and i will thank, on the verge of tears
you know tears always look good in those cases
(even though tears were useless when i missed you)
i will thank, this order:
to god
no speech would be complete without thanking our lord
and momma and poppa
you told me to reach my dreams and this night feels like a dream, actually
my editor
who believed through thick and thin
and mostly, to you
because without you, nothing of this would have happened

if you didn't turn away that night
maybe i would have still loved you
maybe i wouldn't have aspired to become better
maybe i would have lived forever by your pathetic side

luckily you did
and you will remember
you can be sure as **** i won't let you forget.
...this revenge sounds a little shallow, isn't it?
It was a dark and stormy night the wind tasted of emptyness of the midnight hour.
The man was broken as he viewed the ledge and as he stepped out apon it he seemed more lost than
Elton John in a ***** house.

******* stupid *****!
He threw the picture into the night as it made it's way to the dark waters below.
Then taking a  deep chug from the bottle he began to fling the bottle as the picture befor.

****** man hold on!
the man shocked almost fell he thought he was alone.
Who the **** are you!

The stange looking man who sat apon the ledge and smelled of
week long ****** and a stripper or two.
Look man dont try to stop me im jumping and that's it.

Hey amigo I dont give a **** if ya jump but if your gonna jump and  toss a bottle at least make sure it's empty ******* duh theres wino's all over the world and one right next to ya that
right now are dying for a drink.

The man like most people in the pressense of Gonzo looked at me with strange mix of
aww and **** my life that they all seem to share.
Im gonna jump and all you care about is the ******* bottle!
My good man im hurt besides ya gotta wallet to duh not like your gonna need it
besides someone has to notify the cops besides I might get a reward I always wanted to get on a show besides cops.

What?
The man said puzzled im guessing being he didnt follow  so easily he must be Canadian.
Okay okay you got me I was also on Locked Up  okay and Americas Most Wanted and maybe To Catch A Perdator that Chris Hanson what a ***** tease.

Look ****** get the **** away from me here's the ******* bottle as for my wallet here ya go but my ***** cheating ***** of a wife beat ya to the money.
So your wifes a ***** and you still have to pay sir I belive your suffering from dellusion
here have a drink with me.

The man was far worse than I thought not only a Canadian he seemed to be suffering from some mental issues Jesus was it fate that a rational man as I would be hanging out okay passed out on this very same bridge.
******* batman  cause Gonz was on the job and I wasnt gonna blow this one like
last time not that I go around blowing things.
Besides remember kids a ***** charges me I give it away now if they offer to pay
thats a diffrent story.

But enough with the foreplay hampsters.

I sat drank and listend to the mans story.
How he fell in love with this strange women who took his money and was a total ****.
Hmm wonder what she'll be up to after this annoying ***** jumps?

And when I caught her with my best friend that was the final straw.
Its all over **** life !.
So did you get this all on camera?
What !!!
Why would I do that?
Idk hell man  just thought it'd be fun to watch I mean who doeant like drinking and watching ****?
I know the Hello staff  seems to keep things running great on it.

You are are ******* mental you know that?
Maybe but im not the one wasting ***** with a kickass ****** living at home
sure ya gotta pay but dude your getting free shows its like living in Germany
sure kinda ***** but hey beats writting perverted things that no one reads on a website that
died years ago and no one wants you on much like there ******* daughter.

You sick ***** you want my life so much you can have it!!
The man shouted in his outside voice once is okay when outside but if we were inside
id really be ******.

Just have my life you demmented *******.
Really sir you just made me happier than that talentless **** Russel Brand after escaping
the clutches of the preaching hottie drag queen Katy Perry.
Im kidding she's great to watch with the sound off.

The man looked puzzled again I swear im begining to think he might have lied .
Cause he seemed  more from a third world country like  Indiana.
Hey where the hell do you think your going!?

Hey wheres my.
The man fumbled through his pockets .
Looking for these I asked holding up a pair of keys.
Hey bring thoose back right now !

Amigo sure I could  hang around here listen to ya **** and moan.
But hey you said i could have your life.
And being you wanna play man on a ledge I figure why the **** not.

You see what's one guys ***** rotten cheating ***** of a wife is another guys
kick **** party to go so later.
Wait stop please Im not gonna jump  she's a ***** but I love her .
And the thought of your demmented *** living in my house  ***** it life's not that bad please
I want my life back.

My friend ya see thats all I wanted to hear.
I tossed the keys in one of thoose corney *** movie moments that guys go to just to make the laidies happy and in the hope they'll get laid.

The keys flew through air  the man put his hand in the air tears in eye's
so happy he totally forgot he was still standing on the ledge.
And he screamed like a school girl as he fell to his death it was a twisted scene oh well.

I had no time to reflect cause i was off like a madman with a date with a ***** little hampster
Hey someone had to console this woman and who better than the person who spent those last
hours with him.
And was kinda responssible for his deatn but hey whats in the details.

Untill next time hampsters you stay crazy.
And remember when all hope is lost learn to hotwire a car and get the **** outta there.
Thanks for the important life skills grandpa.

Adios.

Gonzo has left the site.
asf Mar 2014
I'm asleep.
At least, I think I am.
I can't tell.
My eyes are closed, and I'm trying very hard to dream.
Truly.
My hands are blindly searching for something that's not there.
A television set with a white screen.
A blank canvas with a set of white paints.
A dry erase board with nothing to erase.
A black page in a book, waiting to be written on.
I open my eyes again.
I sigh.
My eyes close once more and I attempt to fall asleep.

**~~a.s.f.
((this was actually written a while ago, but yeah.))
Its always in goodbye we taste what is the essense of that scar called love.
Pain in nature and no words can capture remorse as well as a milepost in a reaview of thought.
It was there we togather once called home now like a tombstone it stands a marker of what was never to be.

Fracture of heart and bitterness my seal.
Im the leftovers of another we can cleanse this logic or simply say ***** it all and regress.
Forever a lie to the young and a curse to the old.
Has it burned this earth and killed me to all that dare to know
what I could never explain.?  

A dance of years now a thought no drug has yet to erase.
Pills aside your drug was the best poisen ive known even with another I
know paradise was a cancer ive long since left behind yet a simple moment can make me slide
into a vice that will see me fall for the last time till next.

Im the clown that circus left behind.
Now a skeleton for home I  ask why leaving takes a milestone and emptyness a downpour
as my desert has long stayed dry.

Read the riddle like a oinion pealed only more layers remain.
hell has welcome thought for ive found more toture here.
Voices haunt my thoughts as emptyness thrives inmy existance.
Its has misreble as when we knew each others love please drown so I can
breath life into this wornout frame one last time.

Winter's chill reminds me of what we never had yet again.
People often question what has no meaning to begin with.
As for me I avoid its poisen a scared child hidden in shadow of a
lesser man.

Nothing stands as a reminder of pages wasted in promise of a day that never came.
Sometimes I view that place were we were more than a bad memory and a traggic vice.
Sometimes I yern only for end to what has never been allowed to begin.

The worst prison of all is the mind.
No one is as what the seem.
And understanding sometimes is more misleading than a half *** like button.
andy fardell Feb 2011
I feel the cold ..the cold within
fightin ,biting..a painless din
creeping slowly yet full of speed
the coldness claws ..my feet retreat

Mind so full of emptyness ..yet spinning ,grasping
faultless youth
hurt inside ..the mad old fool
itching for the real truth
Unpuresoul Dec 2015
I feel the Emptyness surround me
Gripping me in inevitable beauty;
Sinking it's claws into me
And I ask why as I cry in symphony

I cry for now I see the light
I pry to free from the painful clutch
See the ink flow from your spite
Know that this happens to all you touch

Be free and fly like the wounded bird
You will struggle but you shall fly
This is not the first but the third
And fail me is all you do when you try

A puddle of time left in place;
Time left for you... and I
And we shall explore this new space
For all I do is try
ali sbeity Oct 2013
I wish I could fly
Leave everything behind
Strange world where we are
Always searching to be satisfied
Emotional void is a crime
Make you feel worthless sometimes
Drag you to places
You regretted
When you wake up
I really cannot decide
If you care or not
You keep changing your vibes





        
"What is your talent? Can you show me?" He asked me, obliviously.

"My affinity isn't something that can be seen." I replied. "It isn't a fancy circus trick, like juggling, nor is it the astonishing spectacle of a painting. It isn't the beauty of a voice, or the magnificent sound of music to the ears. My ability is from the inside, from the way one simple sentence could turn your whole life around. It's the way words could understand you like nobody ever can, the way quotes or phrases fill the emptyness of your heart, and the way it awakens a sensation you may have never been able to feel before. So, no, I cannot show you what my talent is, as it is the way I can transfer a set of emotions to you with just the enunciation of a word."

And with that, I, yet again, rendered another soul speechless.
we see the world as a whole
we talk to others like to poles
I'm sitting aside you just like a tree
let me tell you som'n, do you agree?

My entire life is all about me
my mom, my dad, my friends, I, Be!
since I'm the stack of body parts
I consider this world like my heart

the sun will shine as doubt will grow
I aint gon lie, my sun's my eyes
the more i see the less doubt be
and when my eyes roll out and blow
I stop and stare, seeing the lies
that was allowing all doubts to be

human interactions are contradictory
because heart and brain are different history
my heart for humans will always be bold
my brain for its knowledge will never be sold
so the reason of that contradiction
is that we're doing things in the wrong direction
putting our heart in interactions
brainy analyse the human nations
once we've flipped it 90 degree
human interactions will finally be free.

I see children as my fingers
and veteran as my toes
the latter have the wisdom
so I keep them at the bottom
so I can stand tall like Heroes.
Children are important so i teach them daily
I keep them accurate and let them work freely
for they are the essence of things that most matters

TV news are useless so i'll say they are my poops
commercial aren't that far cuz they are my farts
one cannot live without them both they are 2 essential parts
of the social oligo-elements, a tiny lil portion or oops!

know yourself and you'll know the world
cuz each body parts is a fraction of the herd

I think I'm talking too much you are already too tired
I'll leave you with emptyness cuz that's what got me inspired
ali sbeity Oct 2013
I wish I could fly
Leave everything behind
Strange world where we are
Always searching to be satisfied
Emotional void is a crime
Make you feel worthless sometimes
Drag you to places
You regretted
When you wake up
I really cannot decide
If you care or not
You keep changing your vibes
Matt Jursin Nov 2009
Howbout emptyness.
Howbout sorrow.
Howbout not 'living' to see tomorrow.
Howbout it?

A round of applause for a lost cause.
For All that **** stuck under my shoe!
All the **** I stumble thru!
All the 'its' pronounced post 'Shhh'!

Those are the screams of my inner being.
Clawing it's way out from the depths of hell.
I know. You cant tell.
It's better that noone really knows me.

It's a lot easier.
Trust me.
Abelonia Jul 2015
Føler ikke glæde Men heller ingen sorg
Føler mig ikke fortabt Men heller ikke fuldendt
Føler ingen smerte Men heller ingen glæde
Føler mig ikke hel Men heller ikke halv
Føler mig ikke vissen Men heller ikke blomstrene
Føler intet for dig Som du føler for mig
For tiden er gået i stå rundt om mig, og jeg føler  **Intet
Mario Cotto Jan 2011
Darkness, a chill in the air, unexpected sorrow overwelming, she's dead.

Hope is gone and left. Emptyness is at the door creeping in like death himself. Death came quckly that night,passing right over my brother and decided to take another.

No one. Knew untill halfway throught the night, in the silance, at the time of change. He stood over her and let a silent tears flow from his eyes. Her pain was gone, her soul resting etirnialy with God.

His pain just beginning. His life was reset, everything changeing because she was dead.

The comprehension of death is and will remain imposable. It's the second thing that unites humanity. And it's the first thing we come to fear naturaly. It's a fear not learned or over come.

Death is the crul irony of life bringing relife and stress at the same time. Death is the end to what we are a custom to and a beginning to a new life.

Death had changed him.,had made him take on new struggles had made him some how stronger. Death had taken his skin and made it impenatable, only two things could harm him and he avoided the one with out hesatation.

He came to think that with love came more pain and death himself couldn't even bare it . So thus with out love he could live forever and could concur death.

Darkness, a chill in the air, unexpected sorrow overwelming, he's dead.

Hope is gone and left. Emptyness is at the door creeping in like death himself. Death came quckly that night,passing right over to my brother. Oh how I wish he could have claimed another.

Death has become my friend and my enamy leaveing dispare in his wake but like a snake I can avoid him.

For Death is the crul irony of life bringing relife and stress at the same time. Death is the end to what we are a custom to and a beginning to a new life.
Inner working of my insanity you know well.
green fairy cube of sugar over ice water
its tender journey  few  need to undersand.

So you travle a abstract road and bury your soul
underneath the ice.
Cold in hell beauthy in darkness veils of sanity but
velvet embers of a  strange haunting scene.

It is the curse and i the moth to it's flame.
death of tommorows cast visions of a oceans sound.
I am but a leaf cast over dark waters never struggle just drift.

In history I travle speaking in tones surreal to my ear.
if so shall i slip will insanity be but a moment fractured in dream.
Screams in a far off space so distant from mine.
No pain exists here for im gone in form.

A painting in a stars t moon cast scenes erased by light.
Where i go none should follow for the price is
only for the distant in thought to pay.
Emptyness cascades in the past so for now here i yern only to
stay.

Green in light wormwoods fire sweet in bliss.
No path is ever set.
Tragedy in play i cast no regrets apon my stage.

A ear in respect a razor in hand.
I slice into  a faint glimmer no pain shall I understand
nights cloak the dawn days cast stories unwritten.

In genius we find insanitys child.
Broken glass cuts clear my moments are chipped
as of stone.
Time knows me not for i am but speck in a waters fall.

Nightmares and my destined  fate.
Kissed of vemon.
She in madness hold's open the path  to
my  visions gate.

Between death and dream insanity and a razors gleam.
From the darkest space does my page bleed to write.
Will you **** my thought only glorify the loss of mind.
In the drinks madness my genius I shall never yern to find.
Within a mind there are many dark visions
often ignored.
shayla ennis Feb 2014
the beat of thunder upon the land,
a broken red teardrop on my hand,
smashed remains upon the snow,
my thundering spirit the only sound,
soul of ice,
frozen in space,
far at distance,
lighting shines,
whispers of sprites through the leaves,
songs being carried on the snowflakes,
secrets hidden that none shall speak,
mirrored anger made true,
unseen emblem filled with dread,
spirit wrenching agony,
another day,
pieces of a craked soul,
patched together yet shaken apart,
flare to flames,
soul of ice turned to crystal,
gleaming shards of rhinestone eyes,
this spirit of ice the only link,
shackled in fire,
bound by metal,
each day wearing on,
the last sheds of hope long gone,
in fields of snow,
of diamond,
the sprites lie waiting for the sacrifice,
that is this soul of frozen ice

by scarlet rose
Larry B Apr 2010
Her tears fade the paper
As the ink begins to run
She'll find no peace inside her
Until her work is done

Her emotions hold her captive
As she writes with all her might
She struggles with her passion
Til late into the night

She has to tell her story
As she brushes away the stains
The poet keeps on writing
As her teardrops fall like rain

A heart that's once been broken
Will guide her skillful hand
She's writing from her emptyness
Hoping all will understand

She writes until she's hollow
Or her heartache finally relents
Her tears become her poetry
Each time the poet laments
Were all crazy the dreamers the broken like children left
behind sad eyes are but windows  cast in pain.
that hurt we share as some will hide it away.

Ive taken the matter in deep thoughts and  echos of brillance.
Only to see it die as a spark  from cold winters fire.
Alone you here the sadness in the most gentle key.

As it wispers for the broken.
Down alleys side streets to lonley old souls
who yern just for someone to speak with to share but
are met with only rejection left to count the hours.

The clocks rythm taps slowey asking the emptyness to
waste in thought only to bask in dellusion.
Like a snow globe were caught in a vortex of a isolated storm.

Yerning for a release the bed is a coffin frozen are the covers
as the thought lingers if only it had gone another way.

But dreamers are gamblers and in the warmth of good hand theres always a lonley heart that had to fold.


The man in the street looks to other as others  look through him.
Afraid the curse may catch but in his eye's i see myself.
And  in myself  I see a victem of another bad hand.

Alone I know you in that place few will dare to search.  
The cavern of thought is but my asylum of  emptyness
And the clock's rythm keeps time in the key of night.
This is but something i wrote of the top of my head.
Itwas for a part of a book  that like much of my efforts  falls flat i write late at night and in these late night scribblings i put togather a book that was anything but gonzo.
These works were called The Still Night Sessions    hopefully  this didnt bore ya to death anyways stay crazy

John
Its more than a feeling when its come down to the finish and even a worse one when you realize its time to start yet again.
Like some sick version of twisted game show your always in reach and anytime your desperate the ****
will gather to praise your failure.
The bottle filled glory days a dinosaur who's back id long fell of of trying to stay in the groove simply has left me with more scratches than  I care to speak of so **** the logic in this I preffer a good ******* covred lie instead.

Hell wasnt a fire laced horror theme it was a emptyness beyond anything a normal man could ever imagine.
Good thing I would never fall under that title.

We were somewhere in Maryland the bar a afterthought now and are drunken thoughts had left us silent to
ramble in are own personal hells we tried to convince others didnt exist.
As for the big payoff well .
If half empty shows and being more broke than when you left was a sucess then we were true diamonds at this point.
You give it all out there only to question do you have a home to return to.
And Martin was a wounded solider broken from a quick text once read.
Ive had enough I wont be here when you return.

And as he was broken we did what any self absorbed ******* who couldnt face what could be us would do.
Drown in vices and cracked jokes over are friends misfortune and tried to make sure we didnt get to much of his misery to
**** are buzz.

For me it was the usal some quick drinks some soon to be forgotten conversations with women I'd seldom
recall gotta keep chasing that good time cant let the boys see your reallity or you'd fall and
never do you wanna show weakness in a pack of wolves .

Robert was always the same a crash and burn ****** who started fights and had to be half loaded to even greet the day.
Once I saw the geinus behind what had now became the running joke of the group.
The tide had long since returned to the ocean  and left him trapped apon the shore.

We all knew he was a dead end street but he paid his way and as long as we could scam a few bills from him
we used him without regard it was the worst kind of cutthroat you could imagine.
All in the name of a good laugh.

Being said that only left me and Tony to keep this **** togather we rode long hours and made little money but just like sharks if were still moving with some drugs in are system were still doing good.


My head against the window rains steady rythm kept me company  in this silence I could allow the ******* guard down.
Count the laughs and ignore the bombs  **** it was a bloodthirsty scene in south Boston lastnight.
The crowd intent on breaking you and getting down watred down drinks overprized and as shallow as there
owners for the moment.

Why the **** was I here stuck in a prison with four wheels rolling steady and praying not to get pulled
by the cops and wondering if anyone of us could lie well enough to be trusted to drive **** knows
the best driver had just been hitting the pipe a hour ago.
And I really didnt think my flask in side pocket would be a charming insentive to some officer who hated dealing with a
car filled with drunks and junkies.

So what you boys do?
I could hear this converstaion playing out.
Were comedians  just heading home officer been on the road awhile.
Oh yeah you boys any good?
Well as you can tell from this fantastic 1999 minvan crap mobile were driving  were  a great sucess.
You being a ******* boy?

Some people never get the joke.

The miles passed and soon were bound for are corners.
Off from the battle left only to crawl in
broken down hovels and lick are wounds with whatever drugs we may have left laying around.
And as for me I'd just turn off the lights and sleep.

In the dark nobody touches my often semi burnt out thoughts.

And as the days bled one into the next I'd  tell myself ***** it Im done!.
But bad habbits and that insane thought of what if is a real ******* at times.
And really what else besides the page could ever bring me the misery and false happiness I so desired.

Soon like some worn out race horse id be at the starting gate again I could only run till I drop.
Why do it you may ask?
Cause its just who I am the crowds a drug like any other and that one night of connection
is more of a rush than any needle to arm has ever been.

The finish line never means **** when you know inside.
All that leaves you with is another time to begin.
Far from a poem i know but often Ive always considred myself a writer and a writer
at least in my scrwed up thoats can write anything.

Sometimes when coming off the road I have these moments when I think .
**** all thats left is to just be out there like some hampster i a wheel it just goes nowhere.
But other than its a real pain in the ****.

Stay crazy Gonzo
And the scars you  call  sovaneirs that mark your
arms and haunt your dreams.
The canvas tattred at times.
belongs to a tortured artist it seems.

Beatings breed the monster none will ever know.
Cast into the emptyness as a child.
Cries fell apon deaf ears screams in need of a direction
to go.

No photos or memories past do I
tressure.
the outcast understands the truth.
And does reside with the pain of plessure.

And the wicked will always find.
A subject so innocent.
For the weak are always left behind.

Blood apon the hands secrets eat at the soul
like a cancer.
Insanity has no reason.
Questions are asked for which i have no answer.

From chaos ive risen to bury that ghost.
Taken a form of a clown.
trapped within a prison this shell is but
a tempary host.

underneath the laugther it always does exist.
Passed of in conversations
Im fine I always insist.

It's no worry it's only a part time
lessure.
In the emptyness of my darkend soul.
I know the true pain of plessure.
just a older darker write I had sitting around  i write tons of dark things
just feel there not that good  but i still love writting them anyway
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
Without asking for more than the simple sweet simplicities,
I am bounded by the same laws and rules for life.
No use in explaining the values of eccentricities,
We are all tools for the media, for what they strive.
A product of the temptation for power over others, we will stay
The same forever, entrapped in ice with our sisters and brothers,
The silly dreams we have, our pursuits. A tiny bit of concern to the
Rich-who live to find the right eye liner, lip gloss-or the best set of
Nine Irons for golfing or business suits. Some day they will
Get what they deserve, some day...some day.
*But too bad for me, some day came a little too late...
When you know the answer then why wait for the question?
maybe it was just to make her squirm in that last sense of right I knew all that was wrong.
She knew it would hurt and so she avoidng the words.
Hiding her own happiness  to allow me my dellusion tinged misery.

At the table the candle slowley burned casting a glow only
causing the shadows to stir.
We spoke more in silence than in words.

My male ego feuding with itself.
Yerning to cause the pain that was already
eating at me  secrets  burn a hole in the rational mind.

You ***** I imagined yelling  causing only me to appear more of a fool than  I already was.
But the silence said it all.
Sliding the  drink aside looking into the eyes  i could never truley understand.

And in my loss i saw the beauthy and saw her emptyness
with me she would only know.
the moonlight reflected apon the water is but  a reflection
of what we need only look up to see.

It takes love to say goodbye.
as outside in the nights air  we needed that last embrace to
remind us of the emptyness  that we shared.

Into her eyes  I gazed as within her soul I spoke.
No false hope tasted within  that kiss.
As paths part life does change and the chapter is closed.

The happy lie tempted my heart as she vanished into
her life.
Perfume cast her scent as the pen kissed the page.
the ghost's off memory haunt me eternal.

But never was  is my life.
As my love yerns more for what her's could be.
  
The darkness my home  always tempted with the
promise of light.
Closed is that fragment of heart.
As the candle's apon the table slowley kissed the darkness
as trail's of smoke  trace the scene.

I knew it was over  befor  she spoke the final words.
But no matter the experience  nothing.
Prepares you for the  hell of waiting  for goodbye.
Life has it's moments even pain.
At times for the painter holds promise.
The Warlock Nov 2009
Exhausted

The Heavy Bronze Doors
Are Loudly Closing Down
Fading Away The Darkness
Which Was Giving Me Warmth

But I Do Not Care Anymore

I can Hear The Silence
Pounding In My Ears
Reminding Me The Fool I Was
To Have Ever Trusted

But I Do Not Care Anymore

I can Feel The Bite
Of The Words From The Cold
Even Bitter Than The Harshest
As Never Appearing

But I Do Not Care Anymore

I can Fell The Loneliness
Echoing From Within
Where The Hope Resided
Which Left Me Wounded

But I Do Not Care Anymore

Time Has Finally Reached
Tearing Apart The Intemporal
Finaly Exorting From Me
The Last Tear I Was Cherishing

But I Do Not Care Anymore

To Much I Have Cared For Emptyness
To Many Times I Have Shouted in the Void
To Many Times I Dreamed For Despair
To Much I Have Loved For Destruction

But I Do Not Care Anymore

I Am Just Exhausted
This Life is Just the One To Much
The One Which Will Finally Destroy
What Was Created To Ever Last

But I Do Not Care Anymore

I Just Want To Sleep
Silencing The Howls In Me
Forget The Ever Suffering
Close The Heart To Pain

But I Do Not Care Anymore

I Just Lay Down
Desire Of Peace
Begging For Relief
Praying For Retribution

But I Do Not Care Anymore

For I See Her Coming
Her Dark Wings Extanded
For Me She Is Crying
As She Was Not Meant To Kiss Me

Death

Warlock
A note slid underneath my door.
How marks on a page can crush the heart worse than
steel breaks the bone.

The oceans tide has come to take me away.
I dove twice as deep.
In laughter apon the first.
In regret of that which I could not grasp.
Glimmers of light lost in the waters depth cast
so far away.

Missed lines the old sometime must think young.
I found  hope on nothing's  promised embrace.
A ring of lies one moment of truth.

Remember  me for times  I can no longer attend.
Troubles untold  sometimes outside is easier than
A insiders view.

The cards werent  right and thoose at the table
knew a jokers laugh was a far off cry.
No words can be spoken in the emptyness
of loss for which there is no return.

A shore apart a heart jaded but always true.
no blame  is to be placed for a road must surely
one day end.

The words read last a souls release.
The tide must always kiss the sea.
A city of emptyness reflects all that is left
inside of me.

Stay  as was my plea.
Crazy how could anyone truley know the madness
that is seldom understood by even me.

Words apon a page ive traded ink for life blood
of my soul.
I left the note  unread.

As spiders cast webs woven of time.
Cold as the peace final rest to torment.
That is the barbwire  within my head.

It was time for a much overdue rest.
A co writter in life is better than apon the page.
Niether is my path no  hope as the clock
points to a dark hour shadows have returned to stay.

Heaven was mine for a moment.
Hell is more my style I  guess.
As in stories and legends im already on my
way.

Voices all speak within there own key.
Torment, addiction and isolation.
Are all thats left of me.
Junche Jul 2018
I satisfy my self with happines
I satisfy my self with pleasures
I satisfy my self with fantacies
Later then i realize
I fill my self with
EMPTYNESS
Days slip by with remains of my emptyness cast aside like bottles apon a vacant highways path.
How often had I found little comfort in the arms that knew nothing and only lingered for
payments often underpaid  in moments best left to forgotten like nights of youth kissed in
a lovers lipstick called regret .

Sometimes it takes a good demon's  burn to pull your head outta the cloud's.
And in these empty highways reflection often i'd found little more than rest stops
and regrets to fuel my anger and true sense of I dont give a ****.

Faces of a blank canvas heading toward new horizens and bitter end's.
Children lost clinging to people more clueless than there youth cast logic could bare.
No one's home in the lost.'
Only found in the emptyness of a new destination.

I cannot say wear I became such a heartless soul.
Only point you towards another route and send you off to find something
that would resemble a traggic play called happiness.

A broken down machine shook  by  other's in hope for a free treat.
Some just for the hell of seeing it swerve ive long since learned to respond
in a stock sense like some robot no true thought  left in my blackend soul.

Dark roads spread like snakes across tatered highways soon to be forgotten by all.
Rest stop ahead one mile.
We gather a lost audience with a shared flaw.

Tired of travel some drenched in life.
Togather we gather in seconds as soon we all do depart.

I cannot say ive spent the time only to erase it in vain.
But a highway is a womans love never returned only taken we no
longer feel the desire to give.

In darkest hours of mornings soon to be aproaching light I sit watching
the lights chase off into the distance swallowed into a never seen again void.
So many chasing dreams others just chasing a new stage.
All of us headed towards yet another dim lit destination.


I always dread my return.
Often long trips have that sureal sense to me.
Yet all the hours ive spent out there along with faces i know i'll never see again
I find unlike most I dispise my trip for I know no home only a place were
unlike the starngers I meet for only seconds.

Im treated as a fool a gypsy of the highway.
Im more home in the emptyness than  here.
Rest stops are the true place in between what some may consider heaven and hell.

Course what does the clown know to begin with?
Stay crazy Gonzo.
It sit's there apon the bar mocking me a clown in a insane circus of
never ending torment.
The music a backdrop to the madmans bluff.
Closing time never stops the want only speeds up my fire to consume.

Maybe it's time to slow down many say but when your breaks never were installed a crash is always certain.
**** it!
It's my vice and least mine arent hidden like thoose of others even through bloodshot eye's
I view just as clear as any other.
My hero's were all monsters to there own ego.
And when you belive your own ******* your as washed up as a name
painted on a wall left to fade.

Everyone gets passed by sometime.
But if this were a game I wasnt hitting them outta the park anymore and riding the bench
wasnt my style.

None had the nerve to stand up to me for even in madness my wit cut like a razor to a dull sense.
I kicked what was left back ordered another yes she was waitting.
And like a well trained dog for months I had swallowed my true voice to speak her lines
but ******* in breath is worse than a lie at heart.

Tonight i'd  cast it aside the fire in the glass didnt give me courage it only softend the blow.
I never needed a crutch to call a backbone my words stood for me and i lived them.
Tonight i wouldnt be that person silent meek or  drifting in the dellusion called love.

The bar keep gazed at me as a friend.
**** if not for that weak bridge of brotherhood id been cut off
hours ago.
I was at that point of rage and fury that made little noise just like a dragon the fire simpley
cast smoke in a dim lit world and shame on the fool who tested me tonight.

Trouble was a long lost friend that never ventured far when it comes to my thoughts.
My thoughts were blank and my world was at the point of change.
But no direction was always my role in the play.

Tonight i'd cast the first stone and destroy the mountain as well **** the view.
Give me space!
Emptyness is many things but a blank page is seldom a call for help.

As night met my warmed blood and cold heart I found solice as always in my own
thoughts some people need emptyness and isolation is but a sister to happiness.
I could always find a crowd when in need of shared thoughts and a simple laugh.

Tonight I wasnt empty for if i a flask in this thought known as life.
I was just half full.

Sometimes  you have to erase the landscape to see clear.
Change is something better left in pocket as tonight I did drown in a half empty
thought.
chimaera Jun 2014
[Here lies...]*


Here lies memory.

Kneeling grief,
monologue
cloaking grave stones
loveless hands polished.

Self pity
in automotion.

Solitude.

Who will love us now?
Retelling stories
of  the gone past,
biased truth
to elude
this
emptyness.
An exercise for a poetry prompt offered by www.legendfire.com
Lee Mar 2019
Lost amidst the empty seas.
Spanning the far corners of the human mind.

The drifting pieces of memories passing by. Drifting to the end while the memories float less frequent. Before being swallowed by the waves of time.

The occasion for the embers of passion and pride surround them.
Warming the battered beings before time swallows them too.

The time that holds them afloat washes them ashore.

The emptyness spreads to every corner without an end in sight.

They stare into their depths and ask the being in the sky... Is this enough to grant me peace?
My One Lost Love

Please know that you're my one lost love
That I remember from my past
The one who seemed to get away
But I wish I could have back

The timing wasn't perfect
For the love we shared back then
Two broken hearts not ready
So now we call each other friends

Every now and then we speak
I hear the story of your life
You tell me that you fell in love
I feel an emptyness inside

I'm happy for you in my heart
And I wish for you the best
Knowing what you need the most
To move forward from the past

Our futures took two different paths
Then where we thought we'd go
I cannot change how you now feel
So I let our friendship grow

Still no matter what our futures holds
Please know these words are true
I hope one day you find again
My one lost love for you


Carl Joseph Roberts**

BM
This is just a thank you poem
She knows who she is
I am very happy for her and will always hold a special place in my heart for the time we shared but also know and understand we have both moved on.  She came into my life and helped me when I needed it most. Touched my soul with her kindness and showed me that there are simply good, very good people out there who can love and be loved. Now I will be glad to call her my friend.
I had locked away my true thoughts and muzzled my true voice
for far to long.
Was it a character i desired to be?
Were my words to be but a joke to break the awkward silence?

When you start to be social only to lock yourself up
to exist with your demons your becoming a dangerous
person to yourself.

My work once flowed now it sits half finished  great starts
stalled endings.
My skills were learned from not the comic arena
and i could imagine my journalist friends  laughter mocking
me even now.

He's slipped  finally lost in cheap jokes  gone from
anything that speak's of his true voice.

The people didnt thirst to know John.
for my well penned alter ego was the one they all knew and so blindly
misunderstood.

Old friends check in.
Messages on my phone i'd sooner erase than
respond to.
Had I slipped in some form of insanity?
Embracing dellusion  to mask my failures in life?

I was a writer ,A troublemaker  and owner of laughs.
A good time for many yet emptyness was my reallity.

As from  the TV screen reflected change and madness.
For crazy is a close friend of chaos.

I got in the game to make a mark but what was the price?
A destroyed marriage  a relationship  heading into
the very same direction.

What had I become but some twisted monster
and tormented soul.
A sad afterthought  to a sick joke.

Deppresion can  make us into something no mirror can truely
reflect.
The chamber stayed loaded  the glass my curse
seldom these days full.

And what she wanted I could never give  like sunsets
red cast gold flaked embrace i was a moment.
And moment's can't forever last.

No child should know a madman's life.
And a selfish *******  I knew was my role.

Empty streets and smokey old bars  were my  path
and what to anyone could i truley give?

Pain was the fuel hours my sea to sail alone.

The chamber was full but soon one would
be missing.

A tale cant be read untill it's finshed.
We are but moments.
And moments can't last forever.
Hal Loyd Denton Sep 2012
Breathless Words

Soul to soul her words flowed the letters were elegant as she they had this bolden quality a richness
then her face was superimposed on the paper up in the left hand corner the paper was it self able to
evoke emotion light brown flowers and buterflies colorfuly purple ran down the right side then the
writing seemed but whisps visible but tendrils that are so cast as tiny to the point of airyness but that
was where the emotional timbres they struck a cord divisions inserted into layers that lay heavy on the
page pure heart some what disturbing crackled a liveness cried to be heard a call was spreading across
a waste land this velvet verdue capitalized on scarsity the emptyness gave it greater apaeal it spoke in a
whisper and you strained to hear you must hear when wonder sings there is always an audiense she
divised words that were robed in color and vibrancy your breath was cought ebbing and flowing her
thoughts were winged angels they called with hallwoed tounges their words were counter weights to
the usal run of the mill chit chat her perpodours words stood in great banks in the sky her words were dark and
raging at times and then turned white it was as she was fencing great sections of land then the storm
broke the pain came in torents this liquid rain expressed demoanized parts of what she vehemitantly
sought to express and then it slowed to a roll over the landscape of her life then it was glory noble it was
as you were whisked in to a great white church you stood by the altar as she pureified her deeepest soul
she confronted loss those dark corners in the lives of lovers it is not perfeclty clear but possibly one had
strayed it seemed she was making marks that represented death black and treacheous she wrote from
the very whip lashes on her heart they had healed but they left scar tissue her fingers passed over them
then she transfured them to the keys shame disgrace visted in the most beautiful chamber of their love
now it would forever remain a darkness in otherwise the show place of love and its achievments she had
a fire that was exzilarting it had the element that burned untamed places and when the new growing
came it was now clean the visual mastery that when observed is stunning she detailed the defining
moments that only love can birth this was one thing she said I love that magic. I hope it is a magic that
last “forever” be enthralled when you kiss your beloved know not you are planting seeds that drift over
filelds of forever they rise on the country breeze they travel to as the song says ole tangers and amid the
Pyrimids along the Nile they stall speachless at the foot of Kilamajoro they traverse the bluest sea to the
swaying of the hula and then they with this romantic thickness bend under the weight there only
definition and reality in this case lies at your feet live the dream girl
Pour Me One More Round*

Each night I go from bar to bar
Instead of going home
To drink away the pain I have
Now living life alone

Inside I feel this emptyness
Thats deep down within
I try to drink away the pain
Still knowing it won't end

All these bars they look alike
And I drink more every day
Wanting just to the fill the void
Make the memories go away

The lights go down and the bars they close
So I walk around this town
The memory of you fills my heart
An empty lonesome sound

These drinks I know will never end
This pain I feel inside
It only helps me to forget
But only for the night

So please one more
Pour me one more round
Help me push these memories down
Just pour me one more round

*Carl Joseph Roberts
Okay, guys its a poem about how I thought my father handled life. He drank himself to death many years ago. This is not a poem advocating drinking. I drink very little and can count on one hand the times I've been drunk in my life and they were all in my 20s. So If you like this poem, please add it to a collection.

— The End —