Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nathan Alexander Aug 2018
Oh, how disgusting.
All this disguising...
To become somebody that’s worth existing.

Oh, it's repulsing.
Fully engulfing...
Every truth, that ever found itself hiding.

So join me...
Hey let's play a lying game!
And ***** ourselves, with something exciting!

Deceiving, and heartless thieving...
After all life is so dull without some bleeding.

Such is life for a boring... Existence...

Cause I’m a...
Liar, liar!
And only that is true!
After all fire, fire...
Is something I pursue!
Just call out liar, liar!
And I’ll infect you too...
With the addictive taboo...
Of bidding the truth adieu.

Trust me!
That’s a lie, such a lie, for a lie!
You see, I can’t pry my own dyed scheming eyes.
So please, forgive my falsified truthful lies.
...Truly... Lying!

‘Cause I’m a liar.

Oh, how appalling.
The lies are crawling...
And covering every single little bit.

Oh, how revolting.
And full of loathing.
It’s nauseating!
Exhilarating,
Isn’t it?

Manipulating.
Hardly pulsating...
A heart like that, is the only one that’s free.

Without emotion,
Without devotion...
It’s much easier to fake something happy.

Much easier to fake yourself being happy...

So, join me!
Hey, let's play a lying game!
And cover ourselves, with something inviting!

Rewriting, and truly lying...
Finally a story that wasn’t meant to end with painful feelings!

Put on the masks, and let's have us a masquerade!
Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed!
A smiling, and crying, and lying charade...
Such is life for a boring... Existence.

'Cause I’m a liar, liar,
And only that is true!
After all fire, fire,
Is something I pursue!
Just call out liar, liar!
And I’ll infect you too...
With the addictive taboo...
Of bidding the truth adieu.

'Cause I’m a liar.

Peek-a-peek-a-boo!
Ha, ha, I found you!
Hiding from the truth...
Well it’s nothing new.

Peek-a-peek-a-boo!
I can see right through!
Liars know liars...
Like you know the back of your own hand.

It’s bland.
Such an existence...
Where everything goes as planned.
Wasteland...
Is much more fun to navigate and understand.
That’s why...
I left it behind, my world is covered in lies.
That’s why...
It seems there’s no longer blue in my sky...

So...

Put on the masks, and let's have us one last masquerade!
Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed!
A smiling, and crying, and lying charade!
Such is life for the boring existence... Of a liar.

Am I a... liar? Liar?
Does it seem that way to you?
After all fire, fire...
Is burning through the roof...

'Cause you’re all... liars, liars!
And I don’t know what’s true!
After all fire, fire...
Has ravaged all I knew...

I call out liar, liar!
I cannot trust you!
But the world has gone askew...
And there’s nothing else to do...
Except bid the truth adieu...

Leave this, leave it behind, hide it in the back of your head!

I’ve given up on all I knew,
There is nothing, that is truly true.
I’ve given up on all I knew,
Because after they betrayed me, they’ve gone askew.
I’ve given up on all I knew,
Because life, people are so boring and dull,
There is nothing for me here.

I don’t see a point in living...
That’s a lie..?

Trust me!
What’s a lie?
Is it lies?
Only lies!
I can’t pry my blind eyes, while I cry...
Please, forgive my blackened sky full of lies!

Truly... Lying!
Truly... Dying...
vircapio gale Jul 2012
exude the moment;
you are a transformative fulcrum

of intersubject's rent and awe:
anthropomythic ecolaw

the dream cascades into words,
birds fly little crisps of meaning
into morning light. last night's
snow leaves a crystalline spark
of you subdued, become a finer point
of tantric sight, gazing rose-blue pulsar
lashing through a cosmic garden,
delicious fruit of spacious letting be.
i'm grasping for that pleasure,
vermillion moan of lifestring vibrance,
but the wind carries on outside,
swirling pieces of the mind in
flux of upturned joy~
our heartbreeze summoned,
now whispersssoulsounds to come
and earthly darkness grips the future frost,
thaw, break and steam as it wills;
the churning ground sings to us
of bear-sleep and jackal-howl,
of seasons transpiring,
one lost sled of memories
leaves us empty, pressing crystal sky:
my aching ideality trounced in bliss-meanders
!stunning revelation! you! You! yOu!
bringing all to be a second time,
as it was.. in me.. now new,
sweet novelty of union,
this gathering of nervure self,
gliding insights, sudden soundsss.

like a node of forest-echo swirls
it dazzles: unseen colors for my inner eye;
ancient tones of fog ripple
off something you are,
creaking center easing of my sidling,
spirit drop and wavelet growth:
as if you were a branching greenery
of my own once lost other-self,
last gasping there as what i pictured 'you'~
swayingss.. sun-spikes speaking,
sky-gaze and soaking barky iris sssuck,
moulding into me the wisdom of our past leavings,
those raspy kites of sap-filled yearnings
shadow sunshower evening.
i would be a tree with you and
let you pierce our foundations
with roots of gaiasight slipping though
our primal urgings, concrete deference
under sun arch, spin of moon. let
ignorant insistence on fetishized divides~
slipping past my grounded darkness
still unknown, remain
my underself unleashed
my silent trunk-swilling soothed,
stable chaos-other, self regiven,
life renewed in leaf,
the touch of you imbued.

the whole vision lost
but for that glimmer~
it finds me writhing unknown spirals:
ringing wonderment in a seed,
or dormant sporocarpic lineage of life,
the vast hyphae-humming cups of death-born
nethergenesis of cycled hyle me.
a womb that never knew of pain
or being evertorn in dessicated spectre-sea.

the burning desert-storms helixify our rain,
a heaving hiss-like suncry
from that dark, sandy baobabic throat.
the earth consumes in shifts,
and blossoms toward the alterbliss of you, too,
an expanse of solar flare
its beautific reach engulfing terribly,
nepho-logos spanning all the air.

ssssunlit boughs of winds' remembrance
grow soft across this window,
then shift with forest breath,
their snowlace puffed before
an azure true expanse,
the burdened greens stirring a needlish depth
of metawinter, all-too-human
starfields constellate in hiding
far behind my starshine there a curtain blue,
whose prismatic humor lights more
than scenic treescape, frigid dust.
hair, nose, glass enframed by sapless wood
of window cut to square my void revision of the world.

the colors whirl into mindflow,
inter-material upsurge-undulate,
abyssal cauldron seething passions stilled by
comic symbols of a secular mystic;
dancing eddies convey my sense of sight
just thought, then lost into a wider dance
of tensions eased and drawn,
of geometric visions seemly here and gone,
inner, outer: conveyed by stroke of
spinal eidos, its rhythm set
before my time, its tone the vital,
draping earthverse
recited in my veins, the sinews of my
life in other lives,
the song of us expressive in my gaze~
one blink()a single point of beauty
fades into another haze,
lighted icedrift iridescing evanesce.
anthropos (religion, Gnosticism) Man. (From Ancient Greek) [cf. Anthropogenesis, (an thro po jen’ e sis) n. Study of the development and origin of man]

myth·os/'miTHos/ Noun: A myth or mythology. (in literature) A traditional or recurrent narrative theme or plot structure.

*derew(o)- Indo-European root meaning "tree" or "wood"

Tantra, "weave, loom, warp"; or "principle, system, doctrine", from the two root words tanoti "stretch, extend, expand", and trayati "liberation"

Sporocarp (in fungi, known as fruiting body or fruit body): a multicellular structure in certain algae, lichens, and fungi on which spore-producing structures are borne.

Hypha · (plural hyphae). (mycology) Any of the long, threadlike filaments that form the mycelium of a fungus. The hyphae are used for reproduction and nutrient gathering.

hyle, In philosophy, refers to matter or stuff [fr. Gk "ulh" (üleh, where the ü is as in German or "lune"]

baobab, A short tree with an enormously thick trunk and large edible fruit. Other common names include boab, boaboa, bottle tree, upside-down tree, and monkey bread tree.

ne·phol·o·gy. n. The branch of meteorology that deals with clouds. [Greek nephos, cloud; see nebh- in Indo-European roots + -logy.]

logos, multivalent term fr. the Gk verb legein (soft g - modern greek lego ) "to say, speak" and also "to gather and lay down" ;  traditionally meaning "word, thought, principle, or speech"; also ratio (latin for reason), pre-linguistic language (phil.), the principle governing the cosmos, the source of this principle, or human reasoning about the cosmos. origin of  "(o)-logy." the active, material, rational principle of the cosmos; nous.  logos is marked by two main distinctions - the first dealing with human reason (the rationality in the human mind which seeks to attain universal understanding and harmony), the second with universal intelligence (the universal ruling force governing and revealing through the cosmos to humankind)

eidos, a term used by Plato for the abstract forms or ideas. fr. the Indo-European root *weid-, "see" is determinative of a substance; it is the key aspect expressed in the thing's definition as the essence or whatness of the thing. also (anthropology) the distinctive expression of the cognitive or intellectual character of a culture or a social group.
Marlo May 2014
I close my eyes.
I am there, when my body is not.
My surroundings are quite different,
But my mind leads me somewhere else.
Memories flood and my heart picks up pace.
I am on my way to my happy place.

A fan blowing icy air fills the room,
And it chills me,
But tight arms around me spills warmth into my body.
This feels right and perfect,
Nothing could ruin this moment.
Thunder booms in the rooms around us.
The arms pull me closer,
Threatening to pull me into his heart,
Completely engulfing me.
Sweet humming and a perfect heartbeat makes me want to cry,
I ask myself,
Why does this perfect being have to be put through so much pain?
But the night continues with inviting kisses and screaming whispers,
Hushing from a friend while happiness engulfs us.
The first “I love you.” Is received and responded.
“Be mine.” Is asked and answered with a kiss and a yes.
Drowsiness swallows us together, waking up to check on each other and pull closer.
Falling asleep in each other’s dreams, we beg not to have this end.

Then I snap back to reality and smile while my heart flutters,
Needing to go back to this or recreate.
Only one person can relate,
I go and talk to him and walk with him,
Fall again.
I’m his and always shall be.
Can’t he see?
He means the world to me.
He is my happy place.
His face,
And his voice.
I have no other choice.
His eyes are the prize,
My heart’s my disguise.
So to be apart would be bonkers,
He is the holder of my heart,
He is my happy place.
. *** .
Amitav Radiance May 2015
Dragons spewing fire
Incarcerating the burning soul
Hatred seeded within
Raging across the premises
Engulfing everything
Turning to ashes
Blown away by the winds
Remnants of soot
Scathed with dark stains
Fire burns one and all
King Panda Mar 2016
I.

and I galumphed
to the rock salt
shore and
collapsed
waiting for
you
to run over
the dune’s
*****

II.

it had only been
a few minutes
but I could see
the rhino cloud
coming
full
steam
and spitting
fire
if only I had
the strength
but you stole that
from me
too

III.

the steam was
fresh against
my cracked
skin
I could feel the
salt melt off
into the
sand
crane swinging
jaws engulfing
my twisted
body

IV.

I did not find you
inside
only an
unbreakable bottle
with an
unreachable
note and a skeleton
with rings
on its
fingers

V.

my last dreams
were ones
of us
on a mountain
hot air balloon
shadow
specked against
the sunset
everything was so
big
the wind blew
your hair
everywhere
as I drank
in the
storm
this was the last
time I remembered
smiling

VI.

black expanse
with a little
white dot
popping from
corner to
corner
life always played games
with me
death was no
different

VII.

this creature
feared you
this creature
was a long visit
with fire burning
and love notes
this creature was
spit out by
your mouth
this creature
was loud by
your breath
this creature
spackled and
magnetized
never reborn
boat stench and
teeth
mashed
and mashed
again
raining on
your body as
the desert breaks from
its last
drought

VIII.

we will meet
again
I’m sure of
it.
Caitlin Sales Mar 2010
Insanity Is the comfort of a pillow, used for suffocation.
Insanity Is the warmth of a gun, used for a death shot.
Insanity Is the enabler,
The barrier breaker,
The undertaker.

Insanity Is a safety zone.
Insanity Is a shield.
Insanity Is a guard for all to take part in it,
All who brush with it,
All who dwell in it.

Insanity Is the abstract thoughts, the rotund ways.
Insanity Is the thought that you can do anything.
Insanity Is the fact that people can question, can insult, can pry,
And they never seem to affect you,
And they never will.

Insanity Is a soft room, padded with cushy walls.
Insanity Is a group of people, who try to figure out what's wrong.
Insanity Is not quite knowing what's going on,
Having that privilege,
Having that power.

Insanity Is engulfing, a single being in itself.
Insanity Is the process of losing yourself.
Insanity Is the way you go when you just seem to snap,
Lucky enough to see nothing,
Lucky that everything goes black.
Julius Dec 2013
How Dare You Tell Me - What Is Literature?
When I, waking pre-8:25 alarm, from some engulfing dream
Roll out of bed, read poetry when the day has hardly dawned
The wind surges through the crack in everything
Through my window, leaning and weeping
Screaming and tearing at me in Greys
Grays I've neglected in favour of Drakes
Socialising, absorbing this post-everything
Hearing echoes of Alex Turner
Soulful Amy drowned in Wine
The Magic Mushroom experiments of my early years
My late teens, which should have come earlier
Forced to grow fast to the sounds of Lennon and Kendrick

We live in a generation of not being in love, and not being together

When I first heard 'good kid, m.A.A.d city' I was still young
Because who told me what to expect?
Who told me but the Mothers and Teachers of the 80s?
The Bleeding Hearts and Artists make their stand
So Far Gone, falling free from the wall, unhinged
Leap of faith, like washing up the first cup in a student kitchen
Lemon drizzle flow and Drizzy seeping through every artery
A modern century, reaching 21 in 21

But back to the scene set to the Ice Age
Liverpool is my hometown,
London is frozen in memory, the pressure has us crash together
Our minds blend like time, concepts, musical genres
'Blurred Lines' - Feminist uproar defines this '4th' Wave
3rd Eye: We are living in the Future, in ignorance of the present
We are Generation Y, or Z, or just a generation of terrorists
Sages, Mystics, Heroes...

Sweeping winds through my window on a dreary morn
I read 45 pages of poetry because I feel like it,
Not because I have a seminar
University's red bricks fading away for me now
I'm just staring at a man's soul,
Attaching myself, this is why I write
I reach for the ceiling, in this small room
Yawning, the stretch of a new day
Going for gold (the sun, the stars)
Going for breakfast, alone downstairs with Paul Farley

As I stretch I look out the window
See four attractive, modern girls walking
(Probably to lectures, though it seems amidst the hour)
I can lecture too, with my arrogant, contemporary voice
I think - if they see me I will smile and wave, wink maybe
(Perhaps not, I am a feminist after all...is this ironic?)
These are products of angsty teen poem generators
They don't look, but I feel it may as well have happened
(I am in such a good mood I would smile at myself)

This generation seems to lounge in apathy
Girls in beanie hats, tripping off Raider **** (RVIDXR KLVN?)
Obey Snap Backs giving me Flash backs
I wish it was the 60s, I wish I could be happy
Trap is the new Rock and Roll, Prog-Rap is coming, sit tight
(Was this always about hip hop, girls etc?)
Am I as readable as Holden Caulfield?
Reading about John Lennon drinking Milk
I felt like Sylvia Plath on 10th February 1963
Well, I feel like Lennon on 11th February 1963
Am I even an '13 Ye?
Screaming 'R.I.P STEEZ', or 'Twist and Shout'
How far have we come now..?
When will we redefine 'Post-Modernism'
Or give this era a Literary title
Like PBR&B; or Indie
Like Blues or Jazz
Like the wind that rushes through my window and my follow up 9:45 alarm telling me I need to set off
Melissa Vance Jan 2014
Hey
I know it's been a while
Since we've last both spoken.
I'm doing fine

                                            Except
I miss you sometimes
When I least expect it
I'm not really sure why
It's not like we were anything special
Maybe it's the look in your eye
In that one moment of vulnerability
When you tore off all the layers
Of protection
That you pull so tightly
Around you
Perfectly hiding you
Making you invincible from the world


Did that scare you?
That I saw that side?
Is that why you didn't call
Didn't leave even a note or an inkling
That you had the slightest interest
Or was your interest only for those few
Moments together


Like magic
Engulfing me completely
Intoxicating my senses
Filling me to the brim
With you and the possibility of more


More that will never come
Because you won't let it

I want you to know that I go
From spurts of anger to pain
When I think of you
And what we could have had
Sometimes I still hold hope
Before remembering
Stupid girl, it'll never work


You make me the highest of highs and the lowest of lows
And you don't even know it
Funny
Because I don't want you to
You don't deserve that
And at this rate you never will


Well this is getting long winded
And it's something you'll never see
Because really why would you?
You never even think of me!
So I guess it's time
To finish what I have to say
There's really nothing else
Other than
Goodbye
This is something I wrote when I couldn't sleep and couldn't get a certain person off my mind. Hoping for some closure with this piece. As always, constructive criticism and commentary is welcome. Thank you.
Shae Sun James Apr 2011
the backyard is home to a field of flowers
amidst the roots the family dog discovers skeletons
the petals stick to themselves; the weeds spread
it's found that the flower-bed holds its secrets
with curiosity and wandering eyes comes a child
in innocence, he opens his arms only to receive pain

he drops to the earth, writhing in pain
his light form crushing the weeds and flowers
the dog barks at the screaming child
and tries to release him from the skeletons
the strength of their grasp is that of their secrets
you see the effects spread

across the child's skin they spread
his face warping under the pain
opening his mouth, he began releasing his secrets
telling only the ears of the crushed flowers
and the arms around him, those of the skeletons
look at the helpless child

the bones are engulfing the child
grabbing and pulling, faster they spread
the boy becomes one with the skeletons
he becomes one with his pain
his body sinks further down into the flowers
and the flowers promise to keep his secrets

the weeds overheard his secrets
the boy looks less and less of a child
as he settles in with the flowers
making room for him, the flowers spread
the suffering subsides, decreasing pain
he's almost as the skeletons

his body unites with the skeletons
the ***** age keeps his secrets
no longer is there pain
no longer is there a child
into the ground, his limbs spread
into the roots of the flowers

the pain no longer is in the child
because the skeletons stole his secrets
his bones spread among the flowers
© SSJ 2011.
Ishana Singh Aug 2014
The absence of relief deluged my existence,
My hands trembled with a fear of defeat
And with my legs about to give away,
I stood there, trying to fix my broken pieces.

My bones felt like cracked crayons about to shatter,
into infinite irreparable fragments.
Stillness, silence, loss and sadness,
Strengthened the demons residing in my mind.

Yet I tried to fade the reality
with flashes of soothing memories.
Hoping, that the lost silvery rays of my past,
would overpower the dark entities residing within me.
Although I knew quite well,
they were feeding on the darkness I myself created.

Now I was nearing my end,
Like the moth nearing the alight candle.
Happiness, contentment, love,
And every little soothing emotion
was lost in the silhouette created by  the dark entities who claimed my mind their home.
Adding to their darkness were the shadows of eerie disappointment.

All relief was now hidden in some unreachable fraction,
of the dark labyrinth my mind now was.
I was deluged in insecurities,
finally accepting my worthlessness.
Yet a latent emotion called hope,
still managed to swim in the dark waters
of the abysmal pit of despondency
which was engulfing my mind like a black hole.

I moved my fragile body and tried to stand.
And with the little strength that was left,
I tried to calm the demons residing in me,
like a mother trying to calm her weeping infant with a soothing lullaby.

I succeeded for a silvery moment,
but the momentary relief was lost again.
Alas! I knew they were now awake for eternity.
Then finally, defeated and hopeless,
I shattered like a house of cards forever.
Oliver Philip Nov 2018
Worst part of loneliness is being without you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Worst part of loneliness is being without you.
On most days I can fill my life with something
Rather than nothing or feeling sorry for myself
Sorry that now my Darling has gone pain free
Trouble is that we thought we’d live forever

Pausing seldom to think of a reality of ageing
Ageing is deadly. Parts wear out and die off
Reality dawns on us too late. Missed the bus
Typically missed spent youth comes to haunt

On those occasions when tobacco was king
From that day on. The fuse had been lit.

Loneliness now is your legacy to me as I lay
On those days in Queensland when it pours
Never in small droplets. No it really rains. !!  
Engulfing the storm drains and rivers n lakes
Like the whole heavens are crying “She’s gone
I ache from the loneliness. I am so missing you
Now I appear to the outside world I cope well
Every holistic solution know to man do I try
So many all the days of the week do I count
Some say they are a great remedy for grief

I argue not ,I think this does work well for me
So in my opinion the loneliness is the worst

Because you were always there to praise me
Exciting my day by your loving exclamation
I love you my darling , I love you , do you know
No doubt in our minds. We loved each other.
God knows how long he plans for me to suffer

Worst part of loneliness is being without you.
I start my day with a sort of positive stance.
Thinking I know exactly what’s in store today.
Having logged all appointments methodically
Only I do it alone. So very alone , very alone.
Unless I come to grips with this I’ll be very sad
Though I hate the loneliness this without you.

You my darling meant so very much to me.
Only through the tribute do I place thoughts
Unnecessary for anyone but you to hear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip. 12 th October 2018.
It’s getting easier at November 26th 2018
With the aid of Gods guidance and Poetry
Worst part of loneliness is being without you
Hunter Gage Oct 2015
She Doesn't know how I feel about her,
Her smile, her laugh, her eyes
it all blows me away
When I look at her,
it leaves me in awe on how one human being,
can be so mesmerizing
taking me and engulfing me
into a moment of beauty and wonder

She Doesn't know I sneek peeks at her
just to see her bright smile,
She Doesn’t know I adore her
from the way she crinkles her nose
to the way she laughs at stupid little things
She Doesn't know I thank god for her presence every day
because every little thing she does brightens up my day
She Doesn't know she's part of the reason I enjoy life so much
She Doesn't know I think about her when i'm alone and gloomy
She Doesn’t know the reason behind my smile,
when I look at her
She Doesn't know I constantly sit and think
aspiring to find
someone as amazing as her to call my own
She Doesn’t know how i feel about her,


…….simply because I can't find a way to tell her
harlon rivers Oct 2017
Maybe it's been written
somewhere in the constitution
     of the waning moon

                                         ― When somebody loves you,
                                               you can never be lonely ―

But, appearances
  to the contrary,
the moon is sometimes blue;

counting stars alone
in a sky full of stars

is just about as lonely
as 'once in a blue moon'
                              can be ―

Like when the night is yours alone
                  or feeling alone
               in a crowded room

hearing Hank Williams moan within your silence
       "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"

                                         ― When it's hard to say
                                               you love someone,..
                                               but it's harder to say
                                               when you don't ―

                • • •

A coyote's pleading howl
breaks the silent twilight engulfing trance
cast by the dappled moonlight;
like there's some kind of lonely madness
    swallowing him whole,..

                     as
    these two hollow eyes
                 gaze out through
                                     the chilly,
                                            sobering
                                                 refreshed
                                                   Autumn air
                                                             ­    spilling
                                                                ­  in through
                                                            the open window,

                                                        ­           counting stars ― alone
                                                           ­             in a sky full of stars


                                                       ­             the crackle of the fireplace
                                                       ­            echoes, startling the silence
                                                         ­                of a feigned warmth
                                                                ­          from the other side
                                                                ­ of an otherwise hollow room

and i feel frayed as a hole in an empty pocket with nothing left to lose

the impending dark winter nights are lonesome
            and  linger longer than before ...
  
seeing the empty space beside me
   I remember how it really really aches to just be ...

                                                            *­lonesome as a blue moon ― *

                   ✩                        ✩                                       ­ 
                ✩                                       ✩                           
✩          ­                                                      ✩
         ­                                                                 ­                                

moonless ― rivers ... 2017


Lonesome as a Blue Moon
Written by:  h.a. rivers
typhany Jan 2014
my arms remember razor blades and spiked needles
and my veins ache to feel the warmth of her
swimming perfectly through my bloodstream
and engulfing my every fear, my every desire
until i am nothing but a pool of sticky tar

my nostrils burn without the powder
flying into my brain, and dripping down my throat
keeping me awake for days on end
and opening up my mind for my pen
shaking as i hold it to the paper; scribble

my tongue dwells on the bitter taste of hallucinogens
that made me dance in the coldest rain
and swim in the smallest pools of warm blood
that erupted from the belly of an orange tiger
who held my hand, and danced to the beats

my stomach remembers the feeling of pill bottles
emptied out; the tablets dissolved
coaxing me into warm slumbers, and forgetfulness
i miss the feeling of letting go
of love, of pain, of regret
Jordan Harris Jul 2014
There is a difference between knowing and understanding.
You know how I feel because I have told you;
I explain my emotions
and you chose to listen.
I understand how you feel because I live it.
You do not tell me,
but I understand
exactly
the emotions
that course through your
body and mind and soul.

I never chose this.
And I never wanted it.

When I tell people I am an empathic
they mostly roll their eyes.
They have no idea what I am talking about,
until I touch their skin
and relay
every emotion
of their
whole
lives.

Then they call me freak.

But I cannot help it.
Anything that feels pain I feel pain for.

When your teeth sparkle in laughter's sunlight
mine twinkle under the changing moon.
When your skin turns searing red with rage
mine glows white hot as a smith's hammer.
When your lungs burn from submerged depression
mine are right there
waiting
to release their final breathe.

There are those
who turn and marvel
like I am some otherworldly being
meant to be shoved in a glass cage
and goggled at in a zoo.
They tell me it is a gift to understand.
To that I say:
this world is no utopia.
How would you like to see every flaw?
How would you like to drown in the ocean of tears?
How would you like to experience your skin raw from all the fury?
How would you like feel the ragged edges of scars
raised as far as they were cut
with every curious brush of your fingertips?
You wouldn't.
This is no gift
unless from Hell.

In my lifetime
I have tried to make it
so the world doesn't hurt
so that I don't hurt.
Now I know;
I can't.

I can't whip the tears from each child's soft chin.
I can't massage the ice from each man's shriveled heart.
I can't dowse the flames from each woman's fiery tongue.
I can't.

The only thing I can do
is change my position within this world
in an attempt
to heal my scars.

And I am not sure which soothes my pain more:
surrounding myself
with those from whom I receive the most
sorrow and anger and dread
because they
understand me;
they can help,
or
engulfing myself
within the entourage of those who always smile:
to drown out all the pain
and push the world aside.
On Lolham Brigs in wild and lonely mood
I’ve seen the winter floods their gambols play
Through each old arch that trembled while I stood
Bent o’er its wall to watch the dashing spray
As their old stations would be washed away
Crash came the ice against the jambs and then
A shudder jarred the arches—yet once more
It breasted raving waves and stood agen
To wait the shock as stubborn as before
—White foam brown crested with the russet soil
As washed from new plough lands would dart beneath
Then round and round a thousand eddies boil
On tother side—then pause as if for breath
One minute—and engulphed—like life in death

Whose wrecky stains dart on the floods away
More swift than shadows in a stormy day
Straws trail and turn and steady—all in vain
The engulfing arches shoot them quickly through
The feather dances flutters and again
Darts through the deepest dangers still afloat
Seeming as faireys whisked it from the view
And danced it o’er the waves as pleasures boat
Light hearted as a thought in May—
Trays—uptorn bushes—fence demolished rails
Loaded with weeds in sluggish motions stray
Like water monsters lost each winds and trails
Till near the arches—then as in affright
It plunges—reels—and shudders out of sight

Waves trough—rebound—and fury boil again
Like plunging monsters rising underneath
Who at the top curl up a shaggy main
A moment catching at a surer breath
Then plunging headlong down and down—and on
Each following boil the shadow of the last
And other monsters rise when those are gone
Crest their fringed waves—plunge onward and are past
—The chill air comes around me ocean blea
From bank to bank the waterstrife is spread
Strange birds like snow spots o’er the huzzing sea
Hang where the wild duck hurried past and fled
On roars the flood—all restless to be free
Like trouble wandering to eternity
Inferno,
exponential flame
tearing at the world until
all that’s left is it’s name

from the dust and gravel
arise the youth
on revolutionary wings of
marble

only for the glorious resurgence
to become fallen angels
engulfing the world
that they had wished
to save in
earnest
Craig Dotti Jan 2010
Part I. When the Saguaro Cactus Blooms

“All mountains everywhere are being worn down by frost, snow and ice.”

“In the brief arctic summer grasses thrive, but too little energy reaches the ground for trees to grow.”

“When Nubian Ibex dual with their horns, the tussles can last up to an hour if the opponents are evenly matched.”

“Rainforest covers only three percent of the Earth, but contains more than half its plants and animals”

“The Shark is faster on a straight course, but can’t turn as sharply as a seal.”

“Throughout much of nature, life is built on decay.”

“Earth’s journey round the sun creates the four seasons, in most places. In the tropics, the sun strikes the earth head- on year round, temperatures barely change.”

“The Great Island of New Guinea harbors forty-two species of birds of paradise, each more bizarre than the last.”  

“As always, where life thrives, trouble follows.”

“Each year a single tree can **** up hundreds of tons of water through the roots, but the trees can’t use all this water so much of it returns to the air as vapor from the leaves on the branches”

“Every year three-million caribou migrate across the frozen Canadian Tundra. Some herds travel over two-thousand miles a year in search of fresh pastures. This is the longest over-land migration of any animal.”

Part II. And Your Bird Can Sing

From my position as being something
Other than what I am now, I saw
the planet Earth which is too impossible to be true.

I saw that land never stands above water.
Water simply allows the tired earth to rest upon its shoulders.

I see places where nothing is alive, save the maggots that feed off themselves,
amongst the cathedral of stalactites and stalagmites and lakes of acid.
No one ever said Hell wouldn’t be beautiful.

I see what was once mountains, now little more than slender, awkward
pillars into the sky. Withered away by an unwavering wind
That blew rigid rock as easy as it might blow
a leaf on the streets of city.

I see that spring even touches the most arctic of locals.
and that you can freeze in a desert that you can fry in.

I see for the first time, the tree as the inverse of itself;
branches into sky, roots into earth.
And I suddenly question paper and hard-wood floors.

And animals,
which we so often chose to deny as our neighbors and brethren.

I met with the Amur Leopard, rare as jewel,
Never before seen,
Destined to lose his home or his fur coat
To the likes of a Russian czarina.

I laugh at the penguin, the sausage of the bird family
and marvel at its audacity to survive
in places its unthreatening, unimpressive body should not.

And in the shark’s eye I saw, as it leaped out of the water
finally engulfing the once allusive seal,
the grace of god, the face of ******
at 1/50th of  the normal speed.

I came across baboons wading through flooded plains
walking upright through the shallow waters,
holding their young above the depths,
predecessors to a two-legged, less noble cousin.

I witnessed nearly every animal fight each other for supremacy,
with the same savagery we do,
but with less discrimination as to who they combat with.

I noticed that countless animals disguise themselves.
Frogs as rocks of exotic hues. Foxes as bushes seemingly on fire.
Bugs as flowers not yet in bloom.
I think I’ll hide myself as a whale
with a harpoon in his side.


I watch male birds of paradise attempt to sing, yell, peck and dance
themselves into a lady bird’s heart;
their Pavarotti, their Don Juanian exploits, their best Baryshnikov
yield them no love, yet my undying admiration is theirs.

I long to be a part of a flock of birds or school of fish,
who seem seamlessly connected by one mind(interwoven by the urge to move)


I see the flower and the fungi bloom, the latter off the former,
in stop-motion photography
I wish to see myself grow in stop-motion.

I swam next to two whales;
a large one whose eyes said to the smaller one,
“I’ll starve for you.”
a small one whose eyes said,
“I will lose my mother when the water is warm.”

I walked with caribou, transient as I am.
Just searching for a place to call home,
both of us knowing that the only stable thing in
life is continuous change.

Part III. Rivers Do Run Dry (See Grand Canyon)

Years later it would be discovered that “HD TV” did not in fact stand for High Definition Television, but rather Hoaxed Depiction Television. Indeed nothing we saw in “HD” was in actually real; rather it was highly doctored images created by the media powers that be. This would explain seemingly implausible animals, landscapes and natural phenomenon seen in the BBC series Planet Earth. Cryptic statements made by the narrator of the documentary (who turned out to not actually be British or a man) such as, “This is the first and last time this spectacle has ever been documented on film.” Ironically, these claims by the narrator are the only truths the entire project has to offer. The images never will be seen again in nature due to the fact that they were fabricated in a Hollywood warehouse.
Poem written by Philip October 12th 2018     Ref 026. An Acrostic:
Worst part of loneliness is being without you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Worst part of loneliness is being without you.
On most days I can fill my life with something
Rather than nothing or feeling sorry for myself
Sorry that now my Darling has gone pain free
Trouble is that we thought we’d live forever

Pausing seldom to think of a reality of ageing
Ageing is deadly. Parts wear out and die off
Reality dawns on us too late. Missed the bus
Typically missed spent youth comes to haunt

On those occasions when tobacco was king
From that day on. The fuse had been lit.

Loneliness now is your legacy to me as I lay
On those days in Queensland when it pours
Never in small droplets. No it really rains. !!  
Engulfing the storm drains and rivers n lakes
Like the whole heavens are crying “She’s gone
I ache from the loneliness. I am so missing you
Now I appear to the outside world I cope well
Every holistic solution know to man do I try
So many all the days of the week do I count
Some say they are a great remedy for grief

I argue not ,I think this does work well for me
So in my opinion the loneliness is the worst

Because you were always there to praise me
Exciting my day by your loving exclamation
I love you my darling , I love you , do you know
No doubt in our minds. We loved each other.
God knows how long he plans for me to suffer

Worst part of loneliness is being without you.
I start my day with a sort of positive stance.
Thinking I know exactly what’s in store today.
Having logged all appointments methodically
Only I do it alone. So very alone , very alone.
Unless I come to grips with this I’ll be very sad
Though I hate the loneliness this without you.

You my darling meant so very much to me.
Only through the tribute do I place thoughts
Unnecessary for anyone but you to hear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip. 12 th October 2018.
An Acrostic exercise in control of grief
Kitt Dec 2018
I need to see the looming sky
A wide, gasping chasm of color and power
Cold and unfeeling
Hot and passionate
Black fading into red into blue

I need to feel the burning air
Arid and biting on my eyelids
******* the moisture from my skin
And the toxins from my heart
Engulfing me like the embrace of a captor

I need to see the silhouette of mountains
On the striking horizon, eclipsing the void
To gasp in the thin and desperate air
Cacti that claw at the dusty wind, and
Beg for nothing in the kingdom of bones
Gin Jul 2012
The sun rose on me
On the African Continent
On the north west territory
Where beauty meets torment

Dry unforgiving harsh land
Where the sun is King in its mighty light
Bathed by an ocean of shifting sand
Offering an infinite burning sight

Relentless wind, hot and strong
Constantly blowing with a hollow sound
Shaping the Desert's callous character
Invisible merciless powerful master


A Boundless sky, vast & deeply blue
Witness the retched souls & the subdued
Through thirsty lips whispering mercy too
Drinking from a tenacious source of fortitude


The horizon promises much hardship
Scorching heat & tests of faith
The element's forceful grip
til you face your very own wraith


Tarfaya & Smara, my waking world
Desolate wastelands where silence thrives
Sandstorms are born here to whirl & twirl
Existence suspended in time, engulfing all lives


I miss the stars filled sky, in the cold of night
Promises of Edens amongst enduring times
Justifying every pains to be worth a fight
Forging dreams in the night's paradigm
Jenna Lou Apr 2013
People scatter the beaches street,
Like seagulls hunting their scrumptious prey,
Engulfing the happenings of mainstream life,
While ordinarity and friction stray.
Their blindful stares,
And mindful glares,
Induce a sense of
Frightful fares.
Children play,
While adults delay,
Their naive beliefs,
From ambiguous thieves.
Day after day,
Continuity stays,
Defending us all,
From genuine praise.
mark alcock Feb 2013
I’m still fighting dragons, big scaly beasts.
Some I have vanquished, but some have me beat.
I picked up my armour, my helm and my spear,
From life's many conflicts year upon year.

And boldly some mornings I set out to greet,
These terrible monsters that want me as meat.
Advancing with caution, blood pounds in my ear,
Legs turn to jelly the beastie draws near!

With  deafening roar and spine-chilling haste,
The beast sets towards me intent to lay waste,
To rend and devour, consume and despoil
Leaving nothing but tatters to litter the soil.

Bravely I face it  resolved to subdue,
The evil incarnate  that comes into view.
The battle commences steel meets with claw,
Fearful but stalwart I strike at its maw.

It parries the blow asI fall to the ground,
And claws slash the space where I used to be found.
Now flat on my back I ****** with my blade,
Piercing the hide it attempts to evade.

The point of my weapon now deep in its chest,
Its  claws scrape the rings of my chain mail vest.
Its head twists around and I stare at its eye,
The evil intent there is clear to espy.

Jaws now agape and a lunge at my head,
And teeth whose sole purpose is seeing me dead,
The snap of its jaw almost tears through my craw,
The stink of its breath is the odour of war.

The essence of violence, the stench of decay.
The tincture of suffering the tang of dismay.
I gag at the foulness pervading  the air,
And retch from the pungence that sits with me there.

But I must disavow the prevailing scent,
So girding my ***** i tear and I rent.
I push with my blade driving close to its heart,
And the beast sensing death decides to  impart.

One last token of cruelty and frenzy and ire,
Disgorged from its belly, dragon breath fire!
A torrent of flame it spattered and spewed
Engulfing my armour the pain it imbued.

Like something from hell that hideous heat,
Scorching  my skin with the ache of defeat.
Ignoring the torment I pushed my steel hard,
Driving the spear tip deep into its heart.

Now it lay silent its fury all spent,
I crawled from the carcass in silent lament.
The dragon lay silent St George would be proud,
And I for my part had avoided the shroud.

                                             •  •  •

I woke from my slumber and checked my email,
A message was waiting that made me turn pale.
A dragon had found me, more combat to come,
It was my ex partner, the fight for my son.

I’m still fighting dragons, big scaly beasts,
Some I have vanquished, but some have me beat.
I pick up my armour, my helm and my spear.
I fight as a father to have my son near.
This I've been doing, year after year.



September 2010
This might not be deep enough for you, but I still need to tell you.
You have the lips of a goddess and I long to kiss them
And I want you to know
I hear you, that quiet shudder you make as you feel my breath on your neck
I see you, clenching your teeth as my fingers delicately dance on precious skin
I feel you, one hand on the side of the bed, the other reaching and holding on for dear life to my chest.
If you only knew how much I wanted you.
I want to make love to you like I have OCD- I won't stop until it's perfect.
I want to make love to you like I'm in love with you
I want to make love to you like you are my best friend
I want to make love to you like we were complete strangers, who met each other for the first time at some random college party in the Caribbean
But we thought to ourselves, "****, I will die an unhappy person if I don't make love to you".
And maybe I'm wrong for that
But tell me why every time I close my eyes, it is your hands I feel in my back; your inarticulate moans starting to sound like A Love Supreme and My Favorite Things.
Let me kiss you at the sixteenth minute and fifty-two second mark of Around the Midnight.
I want to take in every inch of your body, savor the taste of the gourmet that is your back, your neck and your la belle chatte.
Vamos a la mierda y ver como el ciedo de la noche empieza a sangrar la luz del sol.
And wake in the morning thinking every night with you is a love story worth telling the world.
So I am.
Physical ******* that results in spiritual exultation is what we share.
I want you in ways my mind can't tell my mouth what to say, that's why every time before we make love, I tend to stare at you first.
Engulfing the structure of your body and envisioning the ways I shall go about pleasing it.
My bedroom walls, the floor, the bed, everything else becomes glass when I'm inside you.
We become the solstice to each other's world
Time turns into the finest Egyptian velvet that envelops us.
I hear Nefertari's screams of fulfillment every time I go deeper into the story.
You are the definition of a Beautiful Companion, so let me be your pharaoh.
The ****** omniscience of you is what I desire
So I humbly ask you, to give it to me, slowly
For every second I have with you is **** near perfect
It's Euphoric.

-SFJ
Add on Snapchat: stevie_flo
In time.... Dear Homie-Lover-Friend:
Elena Mar 2019
A
wild
thin
flame
burns


In shaky hands she walks on
Shadows flickering on the walls
Dark figures
stretch down
tunnel halls
Monsters
come alive
in the depths of
estranged minds
And deep down
   in her very soul
There is a wild fire, burning strong
Engulfing the curtains of darkness
Where her fears hide behind.
Jeremy Duff Oct 2012
One Cuil = One level of abstraction away from the reality of a situation.

Example: You ask me for a cat.

One Cuil: If you asked me for a cat and I gave you a rhino.

Two Cuil: If you asked me for a cat, but it turns out I don't really exist. In the place where you perceived me to be standing is a picture of a large cat. On it's collar are the words: "I am a large rhino."

Three Cuil: You are a cat. You begin to scream, only to realise that you are meowing. You scratch just under your ears and begin to purr.

Four Cuil: Why are we wearing dinosaur outfits? A light breezes rolls over our bodies but you only have one arm. Suddenly, the wind begins to howl and an alternative universe is created where we are dinosaurs wearing human outfits. I have cats for arms, and as you notice this you meow again.

Five Cuil: You ask for a cat; and I give you a cat. Your pull it to your chest and begin to pet it. Your nose begins to run and you wipe it on the cats tail. On the other side of the world a bank is robbed by a woman who has 7 sisters. In her wallet is a picture of you, in your human form. Your ears are pierced in this picture and they were in your human form as well, but something is different about them. The cat purrs and grabs a hold of your earring, ripping it from your ear. Milk drips out of you wound and the lady robbing the bank is arrested. Her oldest sister is climaxing while having *** with my brother. I give you a cat and it is poisonous. I am dead.

Six Cuil: You ask me for a cat. Mark Whalberg tells me he will not **** and he hands me a cat. The cat is smoking a cigarette, I develop liver cancer. I die. The wind blows on you again and the cat does not have a left rear leg. It puts its cigarette out on my eye. MGMT plays softly and you meow to the moon which is a pizza. The pizza has olives on it which displeases you. Your displeasure causes the woman to rob the bank so she can buy you Hawaiian pizza.  The gravitational pull of the olives causes a flood to reach your house. You cry and your tears become lakes. The Earth is flooded. Uranus ignites suddenly, engulfing Neptune in flames. A civilization of Nicolas Cage's living there are destroyed. Obi Wan says that there has been a disturbance in the force. A cat hands you me.
It's too late to be thinking.
cherish Oct 2014
I watched the planets form before me
little hard spheres of light
of Life, pulsating
the fabric of space ripped with stars
like holes to heaven
the noise floated effortless below me
the galaxy engulfing my pores
as if it did not know better
and even if it did,
would I still play the part of the quiet unobtrusive passenger?

I rose up over the oceans of space
dipping, swirling, dense shapes shift
and I as well
I plucked the constellations
made them sing for me
inky melodies finding solace in my mind
away from the shifting noise
and as I fell I grabbed the comet's tail
it shook and I shook it in return
finally feeling like I had found home
but I looked around at the familiar blackness
and I realized I had always been.
Trevor Gates May 2013
Adamant, nocturnal dalliance
Egregious, insidious, velvet ambiance

An unyielding, dark but brief love affair
The flagrant, seductive and comely au pair

The Eclectic, unmatched, Androgynous Circus
Red devils, black sheep and felines in service

Contortionists, gypsies, and malevolent magicians
All twisting to a dance played by faceless musicians

A night in Tunisia or a place above the Siene
Where else but all in the shadows of dreams?

Enchanted, redolent wonder of festive illumination    
Her eyes absorbed, glimmering in the lush captivation

Enveloping, engulfing silk around our bodies
Days, nights measured by tragic commodities

Arpeggios, rippling across glistening string inventions
Bowing cellos; cellists bowing with audience permission

Masks, costumes, carnivals and the golden mirror
Cerulean dripping limbs that slither while near her

The alabaster piano played by a three-armed puppet
The statues turn and welcome us for a crumpet

Maria Callus sings Ave Maria backwards then stops
The statues and demons laugh while playing with props

“This requiem for the living, begins with a kiss”
The statues said in a tone of voice I could not resist.

“Our overture shall be a ******, a nail in the coffin; a death.
All while you swallow the nectar on your lover’s last breath.”


Needles protruded my head
And I watched as my love was torn
Limb from limb
While the jackals and ballroom guests
Fornicated on the spilled blood and guts
I cried and they cheered as the lights dimmed
For All I could see was the sight of them leave
Into the darkness.
But the noises were as loud as ever as hands
And digits groped my body.
Moaning voices and rhythmic thrusting
And tongues in my ear
And teeth gnawing on my neck
Pain felt, endured, experienced
Then
I was released into the middle of the scarlet draped room
When the phlegm of ****** fluids whipped into a dried crust

A sharp edge stabbed me in the back of the neck
Running along my back, through my spine, down my skin and ending in my ******.
Mechanical hands ripped apart my skin  
I slid out of my flesh like a serpentine ******.
I stood there
shaking from the excruciating, unfathomable pain
the grid and design of my muscular system bare and seen.  

From the pieces of my departed lover,
the master with the many mechanical hands
slathered the slips
and sleeves of her skin onto my own.

Needles and thread went to work.
The puppet master sewed.
The healing plasma
the drying blood
the encapsulating tears lubricated my whole

Once he was finished, I was dunked into a pool of clear gelatin.

For hours I soaked and became whole again.
Then I rose and I was dressed
the finest garments, from across the globe.
I sat once again at the table where the statues invited me.
The musicians, the magicians, the demons, gypsies, masks and serpents
Watched and gleamed
while I sipped my tea

I out spread my fingers.

Layers of skin and stitches

No more hair.
No more nails.
Not just a regular face
but one all shall remember.

I was born as one

Then made from many

In the imminence of zealous devils in my wake
Of the attrition I have forsake

Now as the curtain rose and the spider-silk strings hoisted me up on stage
The master showcased my story to all whoever wished to engage

“Adamant, nocturnal dalliance
Egregious, insidious, velvet ambiance

An unyielding, dark but brief love affair
The flagrant, seductive and comely au pair

The Eclectic, unmatched, Androgynous Circus
Red devils, black sheep and felines in service

I am Vincent Andromeda
Your Strangelove phenomena.”
oh my stars May 2017
words protect us.
they shelter us from the storm of life.
they wrap themselves around us,
engulfing our every movement.
whether they are sung or spoken or written,
words have power.
more power than you could ever imagine.
they can hurt.
your words can cause torrential downpours
in the hearts of others.
but kind words are just as powerful.
they can inspire.
your words can achieve someone's dream.
why would you choose harmful words when your kind sentences can change the world?
choose kind words - harmful words can stay unspoken.
Hazelle Apr 2014
One day I will be ready to burn every trace of you out of my life. On that day flames will be burning wilder and hotter than any wildfire. You'll feel the heat in your soul. Burning at the edges at first, then slowly engulfing your whole being. And I will smile knowing that you've always been afraid of burning alive.

— The End —