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James Jarrett Jul 2014
To put our current legal situation into context you have to ask one basic question; what is law? Is law as we have been lead to believe, the codification of statutes defining what is illegal or not? Or is there some inherent property of moral righteousness that must exist for that law to have force?

I will argue that there is a moral component of law that must be present to make the system of law work. I am, of course, aware that there are many places that laws are passed that have no moral basis at all. There are dictatorships around the world that oppress their peoples and use their codified statutes to imprison and **** any who dissent.

The ultimate example of this is was the **** Germany government who made it legal to **** Jews. It was not only legal, but a system of laws was implemented to guide their extermination. But those laws, even though written out with penalties for those who did not follow them by the legislature, were illegal.

It is a basic component of the human being to know right from wrong. It is the reason that human beings set up laws in the first place. They are set up to make sure that innocents are not victimized by the predacious in our societies. In virtually every place that a human society exists, whether on a group, tribal or civilization level, there are always laws that govern behavior. Even those that break the laws have a sense of righteousness. In prison populations, if the prisoners feel that they are being treated in a fair and just manner they will comply with the rules and follow the system. Take away that feeling of just and fair treatment and prison riots and mayhem ensues. The prisoners realize that they have broken the law and when treated humanely will accept their punishment for the most part. The prisoners know that they have committed a wrong and they knew the possible penalty beforehand and knew what they risked. If torture, mal-treatment and other injuries are added to the punishment then a situation of self-righteousness is set up. The only way to control a prison population under those circumstances is with solitary confinement and complete isolation; if left to exist within prison society it would quickly conflagrate into confrontation.

In places where law exists without any moral authority there is always rebellion brewing just under the surface of society. The dictators and bureaucracies of these societies must rule with an iron fist because they know that one moment of slackness will have them swept from power and executed or exiled. Every single individual who is subject to these laws knows that they are illegal. How can they be illegal if they are written into law you might ask; Is that not the definition of law?

My argument is that it is the moral component of the law that is essential for it to work. It has nothing to with writing a statute and everything to do with human nature. We are after all the ones who create the laws, then write them and in the end follow them. It is at the very core of our nature to organize and codify law because we are innately social by nature and always end up forming some type of society that must have rules. It is also our own feeling of self-righteousness that makes us create the laws.

Certain things are innately wrong and one person should not be able to do this or that to another, and that is the basic creator of law. Laws don’t start out as regulations to govern society. They start out as basic rules of moral behavior; don’t steal from those in our community, don’t **** anyone and don’t try to take my wife. It is this same sense of self-righteousness that drives us to rebel when we know that a law is being applied without any righteous basis.

Take traffic laws for an example. Someone is driving down the highway when they suddenly see blue lights in the rearview. They were oblivious to their speed, lost in thought, and look down at the speedometer and see that they are doing 70 M.P.H. When the cop walks up and gives them a speeding ticket for doing 70 M.P.H. in a 50 M.P.H zone, there is little room for self-righteousness. Most people knowing that they broke the law, and one enacted for public safety, will accept the ticket and pay it without even showing up in court. The next example is the opposite.

Someone is rolling down the highway and the only difference in the scenario is that when they look down they see that they are only doing 45 M.P.H. They continue on for a while, waiting for the cop to go around them. When they eventually pull over, part of it is curiosity as to why he would be stopping them. In this case when a 70 M.P.H. ticket is handed out the reaction is going to be entirely different. That person will go to court. In addition to going to court, if not resolved there, they will spend large amounts of time and money to right the injustice. They will actually spend time and money far out of proportion to the actual injustice that happened because they are self-righteous.

Now imagine that the law was written like this: If you are driving down the highway you can be pulled over and issued a speeding ticket at any time no matter what your speed was. That is the point where the law goes against human nature. People would naturally begin to rebel against it because of its inherent injustice. In the second case it is not only that person’s right to rebel against the law, but also their moral obligation. They have a moral obligation to rebel because they should be seeking to re-establish moral law. If they live in human society then moral law, compatible with human nature should be the rule. If this is not the case, then they are being set up to have very bad things happen.

The Jews in **** Germany also had a moral obligation to fight and for the most part they did not (With the notable and heroic exception of the Warsaw ghetto and a few others) and were led to their slaughter. They had a moral obligation not just to themselves, but to their fellow Jews and compatriots. They were obligated to save their children, their mothers and fathers and other humans and in the end, for the most part did not.

Instead they followed the laws of **** Germany. (Just as the German soldiers at the Nuremberg trials did) They agreed to be registered because to not do so would be breaking the law. They showed up in groups to be transported away because to not do so would be breaking the law. They gave up their goods and businesses and money because not to do so would be breaking the law. There were, of course, severe penalties for breaking the law such as being imprisoned or just disappearing into the night and that drove most to comply.

I know that faith also played a part for many and I am not judging their actions or inaction. I am simply stating the results of what happened by their following the law and putting forward the fact that we are all morally obligated to act when law becomes illegal or immoral.

When law has lost its moral authority and becomes nothing more than something punitive to arbitrarily punish enemies then it is not true law; or at least not true to human nature , by which we all act. In that case all the law becomes is a fear of retribution. No one cares if they break the law for they feel no guilt about doing so and we humans, for the most part, are moral beings. Personally I don’t rob people because it is against the law. I don’t rob people because of the fact that it is morally wrong and I have no desire to violently take from another to gain wealth. I will die before I take the sustenance of another to live.

Once the moral component of law is removed only fear of punishment remains. If someone follows the law it is only because they don’t want to be fined or imprisoned; It I not because they have a moral imperative. But fear only goes so far; when the law becomes illegal its moral authority is transferred to those against whom it is used. They now have righteousness on their side and righteousness has a way of cancelling out fear.

Counter-intuitively, the more injustice that is piled on the more it is met with resistance. The IRA is an excellent example. By the 1960’s their membership was flagging and their armed struggle against the British was at very low ebb. That all changed on ****** Sunday when British troops opened fire into a crowd of demonstrators and killed and wounded a number of them. Instead of being frightened by this, they were outraged and active resistance against them doubled. A vicious cycle was started as the British escalated their actions in response to the increase in attacks and therefore caused even more.

The result of the British crackdown was the highest membership in the IRA in history and the start of a real shooting war. The level of violence escalated to a point never seen before and eventually drove the Brits to sue for peace. The danger of enrolling in the outlawed organization was more than offset by the sense of self-righteous outrage that was generated by the deaths and military lock down of entire neighborhoods. When one joined the IRA it was not a matter of if you would die or be imprisoned, but rather when. Still, even knowing what the outcome would be the ranks of the IRA swelled to enormous numbers. When the British military began a covert assassination program to **** suspected IRA members and affiliates, instead of instilling fear it just added to the sense of outrage and drove more to join and fight.

It was the (Legal) injustice of what was being done that gave the moral righteousness to the IRA and drove them to war. I bring this all up because we are now, in our own society, entering an era of legal lawlessness. We will be forced to make choices about how we respond when confronted with these laws. From the patriot act to the NSA spying, the NDAA authorization of indefinite detention, the IRS and the DOJ it is becoming clear that we are living in an increasingly lawless society.

The lawlessness is not on the part of the people, but rather on the part of those writing the law. The irony is that as the laws become more illegitimate the numbers of them are increasing exponentially. There are already so many federal laws on the books that at any given time any given individual is guilty of a crime. We have now become beholden to the very institutions that are supposed to be serving us as a society. Instead of serving us, the people, they now serve the bureaucracy instead. The bureaucracy and the institutions thereof have become the center of law giving rather than we as citizens. The law, rather than protecting us has become an instrument to protect the bureaucracy and punish those who disagree with it.

We have come to the point where our laws are becoming as corrupt as any given banana republic and if we do not actually want to become one, then we need to make a stand and say enough is enough. I am sure that while I have been writing this that I have committed at least three crimes; either by what I have written or done or thought or possibly what type of lighting I used. Do I care? No not at all. My sense of self- righteous indignation has grown to the point that I have no fear. I have no fear of death or imprisonment. The level of outrage has grown in me to the point that I will go to war.

Will they put me in prison? Go ahead lock me up with a captive audience and let me speak the truth to them; I will leave with an army of self-righteous individuals. Of course the speaking of this truth is illegal in prison, but at this point what is law? We all have hard choices coming up in the future; choices that could affect the rest of our lives and need to decide how to act. In the end how we act is going to be influenced by how the legal system acts. Let me end this with a question: If you receive a letter from the IRS informing you that you are subject to an audit, is your hard drive going to crash? I know that mine is.
Patricia Tsouros Mar 2013
I couldn’t be around you without feeling
as if my world was crashing down.
Twice I walked away but you kept
holding onto me.
Your love dominating,
controlling, and reckless.

For us both ‘WE’ became an addiction.  
Our physical connection creating a real
emotional entanglement.  
The intimacy escalated not with your love
and respect rather with your insatiable ******
desires and deceit.
You came closer to me than anyone ever had.
To say that we were totally engaged,
consumed with each other would gravely understate
what you did not only to my body, but also to my soul.
It was a crazy love.

When your presence met mine.
I’d forgotten the meaning of peace of mind.
Self-respect had flown away,
integrity fallen by the wayside.
I didn’t know who I was with you.
I didn’t know who I was without you.
Yet, I couldn’t leave…
Even though deep in my unconscious
I knew 'WE' were wrong.
My addiction wouldn’t let me go,
your addiction wouldn't let me go.
And I stayed…
Your behavior came so close to crushing my spirit,
my will to live.
In your compulsion to protect your deception
you abandoned me,
my life hanging on by a thread, I could not sleep or eat,
I could not breathe.
It was like being in a coma that I was fighting to survive.
With intensive professional help
I was forced out of the coma.
I survived.

Now I see
I stayed, not because I loved you
I stayed because I didn’t love me.
Passion kept me bound.
Truth be told, to be totally honest
I stayed out of fear, fear of missing the passion.
But now I know I’d rather be alone… than
shackled by the anguish and drama you swore was love.
As the synapses of my brain reconnect,
the evidence of controlling emotional abuse,
of possessive manipulation, overwhelms my mind and body.
I see now I wasn’t built, wasn’t ready to understand
your type of love.
I can’t deal, can’t bear, don’t deserve,
your emotional betrayal and abuse.
I have kept your secret for you to tell.
A secret I will never betray.
Now no longer together
locked in by your silence,
perpetuating the manipulation,
forever destined in your secret,
your abuse continues.
T'was a diamond
    amidst stardust
  struck of gypsy's
    celestial adoration,
  crashed and sizzled
 'neath earthly intentions,
ultimate shimmers
     escalated upon
       fiercely impetuous seas,
each dappling
    luminescent wave
saturated of
splendiferous galaxies,
   bathed in heavens'
      stellar effulgence,
mesmerizing wanderlust's
    magnificent indulgences
Wandisa Zwane Oct 2015
Written by

Wandisa Zwane  


April 16, 2015



INT.  APT 3101 - THE BEDROOM  

It's 02:31 am and I find myself laying silently on my bed scrolling through Instagram...Twitter...Tumblr....and Snapchat. I find myself struggling to go to sleep.  I wasn't even able to sleep for an hour or two. It's not normal as its way past my curfew. I receive a text message. I'm confused because it's
still too early for anyone to be texting me, and I know everyone nearby is fast asleep because we have school. So who could be texting me?

CUT TO: PHONE SCREEN

HER ( via text )

I'm struggling with the math homework, help ? Are you up ?

ME ( via text )

I am actually. FaceTime, call or text?

20 minutes later my phone starts ringing. She was FaceTiming me. I stare at her name for about 5 seconds trying to put myself together.

ME

Hello, Ellie

I wasn't focused on the math. I was hoping that we could forget about the math and just talk about us and the futility of life. For some stupid reason I really thought you were gonna say something cheesy like I can't get you out of my head but can we just talk until we fall in love? But no it never happened as we had an hour long conversation about math.

CUE " MATH CONVERSATION"

The futility in that conversation was cosmic to the point where I began questioning existence. But when the call finally ended I was disappointed.

CUT TO: VARSITY

It's 8am and I'm at sitting in English tired and drained. Still contemplating about the futility of life.

HER

Hey, Tyler thanks for helping me with the math homework.

ME

Uhm Ellie do you want to come over too my apartment over the weekend and chill ?

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101

It's 12am and the apartment is really untidy. I jump out of bed and clean the entire apartment in a record time of 12 minutes and 44 seconds. I'm going crazy over here as I'm trying to remember if I gave her the correct directions. Thank god I gave her the correct directions as I see the uber pulling up in front of the apartment complex. I start sweating and shaking and I'm fearful that I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. I start cringing.
I open the door the door and it's her standing directly in front of me. I can't breathe. I'm overwhelmed by an awe of emotions. Literally - she's beautiful

ME

I mumbled - Hey Ellie it's so good to see you ( the hug was very awkward because I was nervous - it was one of those hugs where both people don't know how to hug each which makes things really awkward)

HER

Hi


ME

So glad you could make it. How was the drive ( note to self: I should stop making things awkward ) I'm so irritated at myself.

CUT TO:  APARTMENT 3101 - LIVING ROOM

She's sitting on the couch. And I'm sitting right next to her. Okay let's just say there was a 30cm gap between the both of us. I was really nervous. I found myself drinking gallons of water. I forgot to offer her anything. I was nervous to the point where I couldn't even make eye contact. I just stared at her forehead and her lips.

ME

Aren't you exhausted I mean that drive was really long ( she lived like 3 blocks away from me )

HER

Not really , I'm just really stressed about varsity and stuff I guess.

We actually start conversing with one another for 5 hours straight.We smoke about 3 cigarettes and have the most fruitful conversation ever about female energy and the power of the the heart. She's really enlightened - I thought she was really basic. We both can't go to sleep because we're actually  enjoying the presence of one another. It was cathartic and refreshing actually.

ME

Want go up to the roof and look at the universe?

HER

I'd love too.

CUT TO : COMPLEX ROOF

I brought a blanket up to the roof cause I thought it was cold. It wasn't but we just layed down underneath the open night sky and gazed into the stars. We connected with the universe/ourselves/each other. It was bliss. We ended up falling asleep on top of the roof. To my amazement we were silently wrapped around each other.

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101 - THE KITCHEN

HER

( chuckling )
How'd you sleep

ME

( Smiling )
I slept pretty well.

ME

Do you have any plans for today?

HER

YES actually...

SEVERAL HOURS LATER: APARTMENT 3101 - KITCHEN/BEDROOM AND LIVING ROOM

The sun is setting and she still hasn't packed her bags.

ME

When are you leaving?

She said she was leaving on Sunday

HER

In 30.

ME

(I tried to not crack in front of her)
Cool.


APARTMENT 3101

About 2 weeks later she surprisingly pitches at my door with her luggage.

HER
I'm moving in with you!

I was excited at the fact that she was moving in with me but I obviously tried acting cool and composed.

CUT TO: WOLVES CAFE

As they're sitting there talking to each other about their families, Osho and meditation over a cup of tea.

ME

I was adopted.

HER

WOW - That's a huge plot twist.

She sat there speechless for about 2 minutes trying to fathom the knowledge I just presented to her.

HER

So do you ever think about your real parents?

ME

All the time - they both died in a car accident when I was 3.

HER

I'm so sorry.

ME

It's okay - I mean I know they're somewhere out there in the universe checking up on me. I speak to them when I feel lonely.

Enough about my tragic past..How are your parents?

I've never told any other soul about my parents before. She was the first person I ever told .

HER

I never knew my dad but my mom has been living with a brain tumour for like 2 years now.

ME

Wow. That's must've been so tough for you when you found out about it.

HER

It was. I went through the most vicious cycle of depression for an entire year. But I'm trying to make most of the time I have left with her.

ME

How much time do you have left to see her her and stuff ?

HER

(She starts tearing up)
3 months

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101 - LIVING ROOM

I'm still fascinated by the fact that she's into Osho, existentialism, metaphysics and epistemology. But I also felt like our relationship had escalated so quickly. We're we rushing things? The relationship felt like it was moving at the speed of light.

ME

Do you feel like we're moving too fast ?

HER

There's no such thing, if it's meant to be it will be, whether fast or slow as long as it's true, it will last as long as you want it to.

I was momentarily tongue-tied as I was trying to digest the words she just said.

ME

......

(Still voiceless)

She still had a lot more to say after that

CUES : "rants"

But in that entire rant she said something that echoed within me.

HER

YOU KNOW I MAKE YOU HAPPY

After she said this I felt like fainting. So not only did she make me voiceless I was overwhelmed by an ocean of indescribable emotions- wow

DAYS LATER: APARTMENT 3101 - KITCHEN

I'd finally recovered from those powerful words she preached to me. So I found myself sitting in the kitchen trying to write a letter to her about how I really felt. I wasn't the best at expressing my emotions through writing but I gave it a shot.

ME

Love is the unforetold explanation for creation. Love is life. It's the merger of minds. The marriage of minds. It transcends through time, it's timeless. It takes you into a dimension filled with possibilities and opportunities. It helps you understand you are that you are not worthless. Every time I am with you I understand we are here for a reason. And every time I stare into your eyes. I realise that you are mine.  

I sealed it an envelope and put it on the kitchen counter.

LATER ON THAT DAY:

She opens the letter and starts crying.

CUT TO: THE TREEHOUSE

I introduce her to some of the guys in the treehouse. They welcomed her to the treehouse with open arms.

HER

So what do you guys do in the treehouse?

PAUL : (one of the guys part of the treehouse)

Well in the treehouse we just try to expand. We write, make music, poetry, nothing much really.

MCDONALDS DRIVE- THRU

She was to lazy to go home and cook supper she was s bit hypocritical cause she said we should stop buying junk food. So we decided to go to McDonald's. We were down to our last packet of 2 minute noodles anyway.


CUT TO: HOSPITAL

We went to visit her mother. She introduced me but there was no warmth in the hug we shared. I could feel her shrill body disintegrating. She was really cold. You could see she was dying.

HER

How've you been mom ?

MOM

She couldn't even speak properly. It was sad but when she eventually managed to responded to Ellie's question.

MOM

I'm still fighting but I don't know if I can do this for much longer.

HER

No mum you can't leave me.

MOM

I don't want to make you empty promises my child.

Who's this handsome young man Ellie?

HER

(Smiling heavily)
It's Tyler, my boyfriend

She just called me her boyfriend in front of her mom. She just put a label on our relationship. I thought it was completely platonic.

ME

Afternoon Mam. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

I knew her name ( Stacy )  but in that moment I felt like a child in primary school - so I decided to be respectful and call her mam. I wasn't sure whether or not I should call her "Ellie's mom" or Stacy. It was just a tricky situation. So I opted for mam.

MOM

( smiling )
The pleasure is all mine Tyler.

She told me to come closer to her cause she wanted to whisper something into my ear.

MOM

Tyler I'm clearly dying as you can see. So I'm leaving with you an important task of ensuring that's my daughter remains happy at all times.Take care of her for me - please

ME

I'll take care of her - she's in safe hands.

MOM

That's the spirit Tyler. Can you give us a moment please Tyler.

HER

Just go down to the kiosk and get me a bottle of distilled water. Please.

(Tyler leaves the room)

MOM

I remember the first time you wrapped your tiny hand around my index finger , you had my soul laying on 3 cms of palm.

( Ellie interrupts )

HER

Mom don't do this , prolonging life is pure idiocy.

(she smiles as a tear rolls down her cheek )

Die so your soul can have its summer ,don't worry about my pain cause I'm really happy for you, your soul can finally taste true liberation, see my tears as autumn leaves falling from trees , I'm naked and all I can show you is the truest forms of love.

MOM

You're so beautiful because you're so true. Our connection has no equation my daughter, as I leave my body just know that my time with you transcends forever.

HER

Mother it's time for you to leave. Take a piece of my happiness, it's futile anyway and I have it in abundance but I shall be lost without you in body, I shall be found when I'm with you in soul.

MOM

Clarity comes with the last breath, as hatred and love become nothing, you are nothing and everything all at once, I'm happy for you have given it to me, tomorrow and yesterday no longer matter

(her heart stops beating and her souls goes home - heart rate monitor indicates her mom has just flat lined)

Ellie starts screaming. The nurses and doctors come sprinting in.


DOCTOR

NUURSE HAND ME THE DEFIBRILLATOR !!

HER

(in agonising pain and disbelief that her mother is dead she starts screaming)

SAVE MY MUM, PLEASE SHE CANT LEAVE ME !! YOU CANT LET HER DIE.

DOCTOR

Nurse get her out of here.

She's kicking and shoving the other nurses as she is being escorted out the room.

NURSE

Don't worry the doctors are doing all they can to save her.

Tyler comes back from the kiosk with the distilled water to find Ellie on the floor crying.

ME

What's wrong?

HER

( Her face goes pale )
She's gone ....

2 DAYS LATER: BACK AT 3101

Ellie has locked herself in my/our room. We haven't spoken to each other for like 2 weeks.

She finally decides to come out of the room.

HER

(Breaks down, again  )
It's her birthday today.

I've never seen her so broken and disfigured before. She's in pieces - distorted.

NARRATOR

Death is the door between two lives; one is left behind, one is waiting ahead. Death is the ultimate experience of this life - Osho

“Birth leads to death, death precedes birth. So if you want to see life as it really is, it is rounded on both the sides by death. Death is the beginning and death is again the end, and life is just the illusion in between. You feel alive between two deaths; the passage joining one death to another you call life. Buddha says this is not life. This life is dukkha – misery. This life is death"

HER

I WONT CRUMBLE - IM A BIG GIRL NOW. MOMMA RAISED ME TO BE A STRONG WOMAN SO IM GONNA DO THAT.

She put up this facade as if nothing ever happened. She didn't allow herself to mourn the death of her mother. She was apathetic for the next 2 weeks.

This  was a tricky phase because she either woke up angry or sad. She just rampaged through the house, didn't attend lectures - she just left a trail of destruction wherever she went. I even have the scars to prove it.

A FEW WEEKS LATER: THE DEATH ORDEAL IS FINALLY OVER

She gained about 5 kilograms in that entire period. She just kept on stuffing her face with ice cream and chocolates

HER

Tyler thanks for being there in my moment of absolute depression.

ME

I thought you were never going to be able to get yourself out of that dark abyss you were trapped in.

AT THE BEACH

The sun is setting and the couple is walking along the sand enjoying each other's company.

ME

I've got something for you Ellie

( I hope she likes it )

HER

Yes?

ME

Close your eyes

(Takes out a heart shaped pediment from back pocket  and places it around her neck )

You can open your eyes now.

HER

(Smiling)
It's lovely, thank you

ME

(Smiling back)
I'm giving you my heart but not my soul.

HER

(Blushes)

ME

(In my head)
I'm giving her my heart she better not break it.

Have you ever had that feeling before in a relationship where you think you love the other person more than they love you. To the point where you'd even get their names tattooed onto your chest. Cause that's how I feel right now.

IN THE CAR:


I'm driving Ellie to the airport. OR Tambo in fact. I'm playing some Jamie ** but I quickly change it and play my favourite song Female Energy.

CUE "FEMALE ENERGY"

ME

You excited?

HER

Yes I'm really really excited for this.

ME

I'm really gonna miss you

HER

Me too.

Ellie was completing her mothers bucket list - so she had had to travel all the way to Tibet and learn Buddhism. Nothing much really she was leaving  for 2 months.


But little did Tyler know that this was going to be the last time he sees Ellie because her plane never landed in Tibet - the plane crashed and it sunk with no no one  surviving.

STILL IN THE CAR:

Ellie hands Tyler a letter

HER

Tyler please don't open this until you get home.

ME

(Smiling)
I'll try my best.


Car parks at drop and go zone at the airport. Tyler takes out Ellie's bag from the boot.

They hug and kiss

Ellie cries.

CUT TO : "APT 3101 - LIVING ROOM "

Tyler opens the letter.

CUE "ELLIES VOICE AND ON OUR SWEATERS "


It's funny how for someone who has been so used to being lonely, the second I grip onto something that seems real, my biggest fear is losing that grip - even though for the longest time ever I've become immune to the feeling of loneliness. The same way people become dependent on other beings, people can become dependent on loneliness too - you become immune to self reassurance, your insecurities, your vulnerability and after a while it seems ideal and okay, but only because it's all you've got. You allow yourself to be consumed by this self indulgent energy making you think you don't need anybody because how else do you get by when you know that you have nobody. So when someone comes creeping in through the front door, with nothing but good intentions - you shut them out because you've lost sight of the difference in the realness of someone coming through the front door and the fakeness of someone coming through the backdoor. I struggle to fathom your presence because I didn't see you coming, through any door, you were just always there in plain sight. I don't know how to describe what I feel when I'm around you because I have never felt anything like it. All I know is that it leaves me in a place
An incomplete screenplay.
Cure for Reality Feb 2014
there is this drug in me, swimming inside my bloodstream, kissing insanity away and forming sunflowers on potted vases, in to vast gardens. I can't stop it. sometimes, when I don't consume it, it rips through flesh and wriggles itself in, tickling me until I dissolve in to fits of laughter; and then it would usually pick one of the sunflowers and ask me to take it for a dance and I would, oh I would. I think about it every time I wake up or read a book or breathe; some days when it's quiet I would still sense it's touch but very faintly, very softly; I can't live without it though, not ever; even if it couldn't come in some days and plant it's sunflowers I'd still need it; I wouldn't want those sunflowers withering away without it, and that drug I need swimming in my bloodstream and kissing insanity away and gifting me with sunflowers is, yes, you.

**You.
Drew Vincent Nov 2015
Here's your letter.
Not the one you deserve, because I already left that one for you in the rain outside your mom's house.
But here's the letter you were wanting. The one that explains what I was feeling when I didn't have the courage to tell you.

When I left you in December, I meant it.
I no longer wanted to be in a relationship with you. I wanted to have you still in my life, but not like how we were. I craved your companionship. You craved so much more out of me. You craved my love, my happiness, my family, and my life. You craved everything I could no longer offer you. When things turned sour in December and January, I knew that we were not meant to last forever. I needed you in my life. You were my relief from anxiety. No one understood me and could help me like you did. I needed your friendship.

When we started to see each other again for coffee dates, you would calm me down from my anxiety by climbing ontop of me in the backseat of your mom's car. I never asked for that. I never even wanted that. But I could never resist your touch or the feeling of your soft lips and warm breath gliding across my skin. Your physical touch became the thing I craved most. I was addicted to the feeling of your skin on mine and I needed it more than the air we breathed.

When things escalated from meeting up for coffee, curled up in the backseat to dinner dates and seeing your friends again, I knew I was in too far. I knew there was no going back to being just friends. I knew that wasn't an option with you. I felt trapped into this relationship I didn't want. I stopped talking to everyone because I was embarrassed at the fact that I got myself back into this abusive relationship with you again. I was ashamed to tell people you were mine again.

That's when I reached out for help again. I reached out to my previous ex. He had always been there for me and I knew he would listen and try to help me without getting my parents involved. I needed away from you because you weren't making me feel the way you used to. I felt horrible. I was filled with negative thoughts about not being good enough, or being a "monster" and a "*****" because I was no longer happy with you. I was holding onto the hope that we would be back to the way we were before my grandfather died. But after countless nights of feeling suicidal, I knew I had to cut you out. You were a toxic menace in my life.

Then one night, everything was going okay. You were in a good mood and I was trying to suppress my thoughts when you took my phone and found the message that led to the final downfall. I had never seen you like that before and it is still to this day the thing that haunts me. You parked in an empty parking lot and sat on the asphalt looking the opposite direction of my car. I got out and tried to explain it to you that I wasn't happy like I was and I was done. But the only thing I remember getting out was the word "toxic."

You know what happened after that. You yelled at me that I was a ***** and a monster and that you could finally **** yourself now that you no longer had me to live for. You have to think about how this made me feel. The way you leaned in while I was driving down a windy road in the pitch black, tears in my eyes, making it impossible to see and yelling profanities and whispering threatening things in my ear. I was terrified. I was convinced you were going to hit me. I wanted you to hit me. In my thoughts I pleaded for you to hit me and to end it all. At one point, the suicidal thoughts were so loud, that I almost crashed my car with you in it. But I couldn't do that with someone else in the car. If I could just get you out of the car...

When we finally reach Michael's and you weren't sorry at all about some of the mean things you said, I vowed I would never do this to myself again. I would never put myself in this situation again. I was done with you. But I couldn't tell you that without having another meltdown like that one. So when I left you at Michael's, I called Dempsey crying and told her everything. She then told my parents before I was going to that night. When I got home they told me they were sending me off to my mom's because they were done dealing with me. I cried and begged them to help me and get me out. And as you know, that's when dad called you.

That's the story. I just laid everything out for you and if you still don't understand then you're just blind to your abusive behavior. I think about you everyday and the terrible things you did. I just hope that you don't do this to somebody else. Nobody deserves to be treated that way.

Hope this gives you the answers you were looking for.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2016
perchance an epic was necessary, to consolidate the scattered thinking, and indeed, once a certain life, and was lived with a cherishing heart, the heart broke, and life turned from adventures to a more studious approach, and in here, a comfort was found, never before imagined explorations - of course sometime a tourist in the arts does come, but such tourists quickly fade, and the pursuit becomes more enshrined - to levitated towards epics is perhaps the sole reason for the cherished memory of some - and how quickly all can revolve around a searched for theme, after many incorporations were minded - as one to have travelled the Mediterranean, another to have been eaten by the great mandarin silkworm of the library of Kangxi - heading along the silk route with spices - indeed the great mandarin silkworm of the library of emperor Kangxi; as i too needed a bearing - to inspect the trickster of lore and the godly blacksmith of the north.

by instruction - an accumulation of the the zephyrs
into a vector, headed north,
toward the gluttonous murk of ice, jesting
with aches to the bulging and mesmerised crescendo
of adrift stars captured in the tilting away -
to think of an epic, to keep out-of-time of
spontaneity and thistle like swiftness in the last
days of summer, that Mercury brings the new
tides of the tetravivaldis -
   brought by the λoγος of a γoλας -
for reasons that satisfy the suntan copper of
the ***** - the λoγος of a γoλας - yet not toward
Monte Carlo or any hideout of money well invested
and greedily spent for a charm -
no, north bids me welcome from afar -
this norðri fløkja, this    ᚾᛟᚱᛞᚱᛁ       ᚠᛚᚢᚲᛃᚨ -
by my estimate, i could not take the nonsense
of numerology of a certain specialisation,
i took what was necessary, i pillaged the temple
of Solomon, perhaps that the dome of the rock
might stand - with its glistening dome and
its sapphire mosaics - i don't belong among
palm trees and date trees - hence i turned to
deciphering and subsequently encrypting -
as i have already with *ᚱᚨᛒᛖ
:
the journey of an Æsir through a birch forest
on a horse.
                    with this method in mind:
(a) ᚾᛟᚱᛞᚱᛁ       (b) ᚠᛚᚢᚲᛃᚨ:

(a)
the need to acquire possessions accumulating
into an estate, is a journey encountered
day by day, although a journey on ice

(b)
cattle only thrive near water,
auruchs did not, and hence illuminated
their way to extinction,
         by way of the Æsirs' harvest
(to eat up diversity of life, and create
a godless world of man).

my escape route came from ᚠ - mirroring שִׂ
although the former standing, the latter sitting
down, although the former fathomable
to my pleasure, the latter unfathomable
to ascribe numbers to letters for patterns -
i seek no patterns, hence my sight turned to
the northern sights, and meanings amplified.
                
the greeks were intended to explore abstracts,
having stated a triangle
they invented the ² symbol and what not,
it was because
they didn't bother extracting a phonetic unit
from something definite,
they classified such endeavours barbarian,
what reasonable greek of 13% reason and
87% reality would extract alpha from
the sound you made when
saying ansur (ᚨᚾᛋᚢᚱ) - i.e. attention -
i.e. deriving a definite sound differentiation
for alphabetical rubrics from a definite thing
(in whatever classification that might be)?
the greeks used the alphabetical rubric of
crafting a definite sound from an indefinite thing,
so they said: acronym, aardvark, assumption,
                       α                 α      α     α,
then they said α² - there are no antonyms -
but indeed there were, hence the Trojan nation
settling in the boot, that's Italy,
the Romans escalated the greek theory
beyond taking out a definite sound distinguished
from other distinguishable sounds,
abstracting what the alphabetic sound assured
a list under alpha: assumption, advantage,
acorn, etc. -
the latins were the first atomist after the greeks,
the greeks believed in atoms, but had no
microscopes to prove atoms existed,
such scientific faith found no parallel;
the latins ensured this was true,
ending with castrato sing-along -
the latins furthered abstracting sounds from
definite orientation which the greeks did
working from ice into iota,
the latins just sang i, i, i -
of course chiral behaviourism of such dissection
emerged - hatch a plan, plan a chisel -
it's very piquant i mind to let you know -
the greeks abstracted nouns in order to create
the alphabet, the barbarians still used
proper nouns to speak proper, the greeks
thus created synonyms and antonyms to add
to the spice of life - after all,
not deriving definite alphas from
cursors that acknowledged points of origins
created diacritical stressing like comma and
semis of colon and macron, not deriving them
from definite things, shunning a helpful
vocabulary bank to an unhelpful vocabulary
banked: synonyms and antonyms the Gemini's
birth of rhetoric;
but the latins were rejected with their atomic theory
of pronunciation, since they became laden
with diacritics - punctuation marks of a different sort,
you can measure a man sprint one hundred metres,
but is that also measuring a man to say
mān or män or mán? i know that the slavic ó = u
given the scalpel opening the ensō to craft a parabola -
but it's not necessarily an accent debate
but a punctuation debate... the emergence of
the diacritic symbols above the letters is due
partly to their joy of the popes listening to
castrato operas and the fact that the romans
went too far... hence the chiral nature of certain
symbols when dittoing - the barbarians used
definite things to assert definite sounds -
the greeks used indefinite things to assert definite
sounds - mind you, if the romans became too
abstract with their little units that became engraved
with punctual accenting, then the greek letters
became laden with scientific constants as necessarily
fathered, unchanging in the pursuit of Heraclitus' flux -
for example... Pythagoras and the hypotenuse:
                            σ / κ² = α² + β² -
           or?
                             c² (ć) = a² (ą) + b² / š (bubble beep
                                                           bop barman backup hop
                                                           of shackled kakah
                                                           or systematic oscillation
                                                           for bzz via burp);
πρ² is still more stable
                                 than what the latin alphabet allows -
hence why greek phonetic encoding was used in
science, and latin phonetic encoding was used in music,
can't be one or the other - added to the fact that
latin encoding had too many spare holes with
the evolution of numbers, and greek didn't have them,
hence β-reduction in lambda calculus and F-dur and A#

the one variant of the grapheme (æ) they didn't include
among expressions: graphite and grapheme
was the variant - gravitating to an entombing
of the excess aesthetic - geresh stress -
somehow the twins match-up to a single womb:
àé vs. áè: V vs. Λ - Copernicus wrote over all
of this with the flat earth uselessness
in terms of navigation - flat earth is useless...
huh? flat earth is the only system that gave
Columbus the chance to explore the new world -
no flat earth no Columbus -
that satellite named Luna was no tool
in navigating across the Atlantic - believe me
i'm sure -
                  or that grapheme (æ) varied like statistics
or like the characters in the book of genesis
that famous adam und eve (kim and kanye):
chances came, chances went:
it was still a draw on the tongue tied decipher:
àè and áé proved another notation for plurality
was necessary, not at the beginning of the word,
but after, hence the possessive article 's,
we could have parallelism, there was a crux,
how once the chiselling of letters came about,
more economic to chisel in a V than a U,
both the same, much easier though...
almost barbaric i might say...
sigma (Σ) enigma rune e (ᛖ) - this compass
is a ******* berserker, god knows if it's
mount Everest or the Bermuda Δ

but one thing is for certain, never you mind how
a language is taught unless you mind it,
not that conversational athenian is really what
i'm aiming at - but a lesson is a lesson nonetheless,
out of interest something new,
richard von Coudenhove-Kalergi,
and what preceded him, namely pan-slavism,
just when the polish-lithuanian commonwealth
did a little Judaic trick of its own,
although snorkelling in the waters of not writing
history for less a time than israel -
you can't beat ~2000 under water - although
you could if your little tribe had an einstein
among them, or proust or spinoza, then
you could effectively become a whale, popping
an individual out from the rubble to say a polite
'hello' and 'when will the dessert be served?'
but indeed, learning a language on your own,
how to learn from scratch, the greek orthography,
and why omicron and not omega,
the give-away? sigma - purely aesthetic reason,
                             νoμισματων

                             nomismaton

omicron                                                 omega

                 you write omicron at the front
                 and omega at the back
                 pivot letter? two: σ     μ &
                 νoμι-                                -ατων
                      ­                     |
                 anything here  
                 will use o            and anything
                                              here uses ω

alike to sigma:
                          χωρας (choras, i.e. country)

sigma (ς) not sigma (σ), i.e. digitalising languages
without a clear connectivity of letters,
block-a-brick-block-a-brick-digit-digit-digit
you learn that handwriting is gone,
two options, your own aesthetic reasons now,
remember, some paired for the ease of handwritten
flow - digitalised language changes the aesthetics,
you make your own rules (considering exceptions
of oh mega mega, ergo revision -

                                       χoρας,

but still the sigma rule, others esp. o mega
you stamp on them like βλαττια, i.e. cockroaches -
κατσαρίδα                 not         κατςαρίδα

all perfectly clear when you explore plato's
dialogue from the book Θηαετητυς (as you might
have noticed, the epsilon-eta project is still
in the storage room of my imagination) -
but indeed in the dialogue, between socrates
and the "hero" of the book theaetetus -
a sample, without an essay on the theory
of knowledge -
socrates: ...'tell me theaetesus, what is Σ O?'
theaetetus: yes, my reply would be that it is
                    Σ and O.
socrates: so there's your account of the syllable,
                isn't it?
theaetetus: yes.
socrates: all right, then: tell me also what your
                  account of Σ is.
                                                             ­   (etc.
or as some might say, a shrug of the shoulders,
a hmmpf huff puff of hot air, impractical interests
and concerns - well, better the impractical
problems than practical problems, less feet
shuffling and nail-biting moments with your
tail between your legs and an army of
intellectuals working out what went wrong
and how history will solve everything by
the practical problems repeating themselves) -
you know that inane reaction - others would just say
Humphrey Bogart and nonetheless get on with it.

some would claim i was begot a second time,
not in the sixth month period of the aqua-flesh,
how did i actually related to the life aquatic,
for nine months i was taught to hold my breath,
however did this happen?
a miracle of birth? ah indeed the miracle of
a crutch for a woman - spinal deformities -
9 months, sort to speak, in water or some other
fluid - merman - a beastly innovation -
next you'll be telling me beyond this life
we turn into centaurs, given the Koran's promise -
you'd need the appetite of a breeding horse
to satiate the 72 - or thereabouts - martyr or
no martyr - 72? that's pushing it -
or as they say among children - a chance playground
without swings or sandpits, but very careless
gravitational pulling toward a certain direction;
nonetheless, they might have that i did indeed
settle of a sáttmáli                  ᛋᚨᛏᛏᛗᚨᛚᛁ
                  við         ­                  Vᛁᛞ
                  tann                         ᛏᚨᚾᚾ
                  djevul                      ᛞᛃᛖVᚢᛚ -
the hands you see, fidgety -
     hond handa grammur burtur    úr   steðgur
     ᚻᛟᚾᛞ  ᚻᚨᚾᛞᚨ  ᚷᚱᚨᛗᛗᚢᚱ   ᛒᚢᚱᛏᚢᚱ  ᚢᚱ   ᛋᛏᛖᛞᚷᚢᚱ
         the hands give an ardent pursuit
                                                 away from rest -
well not that my poems will ever reach
the islands in question - and indeed an
uneducated guess propels me - what does it matter,
λαλος babbler meant anything, indeed λαλος,
language as my own, is a language that i can
understand - and should anyone omit
disparities - a welcome revision would never tease
nor burn my eyes - but the phonetic omission
peeved me off: woad in water, ventricles in a
variety of entanglements - it's just not there -
and indeed, orthographically, if there are no more
optometric involvements of omicron's twin -
then the stance is with you to use whichever pleases,
i can't tell the difference, unless i was a pedantic
student, aged 70, with a granddaughter i wanted
to be wed teasing a millimetre's worth of
phonetic differentiation between the two -
POTATO PA'H'TAYTOE TOMATO TA'H'MAYTOE -
linguistically one's american and the other
is british, which looks like greek and latin
upside-down and in a mirror: pəˈteɪtəʊ, təˈmɑːtəʊ;
or as the spaghetti gobblers would put it:
the tetragrammaton is working on their
texan drawl (dwah! ripples in china) -
or the high-society new england ******* *******
coo with a cuckoo's load of clocks -
before being sent off to england for a respectable
education, something en route Sylvia Plath -
but not to ol' wee scoot land - ah nay - well
perhaps for a year and then talk of north european
barbarism of a deep friend pizza and mars bar.

and when descartes finished with christina
queen of sweden, she became an animate portrait
of feminine attempts at philosophising,
she was basically ostracised from society,
well, not society per se, she didn't become a stray
dog, but she forgot certain functions of
the upper tier - lazily modern man decides
to hide phenomena from understanding
individual instances, with the kantian guise
of a noumenon, hence cutting his efforts short -
indeed queen christina of sweden was ostracised
by society - only after descartes finished educating her;
and indeed to most people a little bit of sloth
equates to an amputation of some sort -
yet only with the x-files' season 2 episode 2
i've learned of the effects of prolonged alcohol
"misuse", that little boxing match in my liver?
it's not a pain as such, it's actually a hardening
of soft tissue - with prolonged alcohol exposure
soft tissue organs harden, notably the liver -
and it's not a pain, it's a hardening.
but indeed queen christina of sweden was ostracised
by her tier of socialites - i'm glad diogenes
didn't get to her, but then again a bit of cloth
goes a long way this far north -
yet unlike the encounter with napoleon by hegel
diogenes' encounter with alexander lasted longer -
which tells you the old method does no service
to a little bit of material accumulation -
but perhaps the acumen was briefer when you were
ably living in a barrel - and to think, as only
that being the sole expression, not so much
a body without organs as stated in the thesis
of anti-oedipus by deleuze and guattari -
a consideration for a body without limbs - prior
to a footprint an imprint on the mind -
carelessly now, a diarrhoea of narration -
how rare to find it - perhaps this idea of epic
poetry is a default of writing per se -
with this my whatever numbered entry i seize
to find escape in it - a lack of ambition -
a loss of spontaneity that's a demanded mechanisation -
by volume, by inaneness - to reach a single
technique accumulative zenith, and then back
into the ploughing, rustic scenery and the
never-bored animals - i rather forget such escapades -
and there i was dreaming of a grand
runic exploration - some imitable game -
some scenic routes - yet again -
Craving your luscious lips right next to mine.
Reminiscing the moment when we experienced Cloud Nine.
It began with a French kiss, then biting your hard *******,
That further progressed to smacking your buttocks, creating small ripples.
  
As our clothes depart, we escalated the ****** tension with every touch we had marked.
Passion so intense, penetrating ever so deep;
We grasped the feeling of ecstasy till that moment when we couldn’t breathe.
Experiencing love and bliss that felt like an eternity…
  
How fortunate were we to experience the alignment of our souls unbound.
Till the moment we parted ways, leaving memorable traces so profound.
  
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
Jame Jul 2017
This is a letter to the person who made me believe that he loved me.

Yes, you. That's you.


I still remember when we weren't even that close to being friends. You and I, we were both trying to come up to each other but there was always something pulling us back from doing it.

Maybe God was trying to make a way from getting us too close from each other- maybe he knew what was coming. Maybe he already knew that there was a storm coming before it could even hit us.

Let's go back to the days when we started sharing the same space. There was never an assurance of anything we said or what we did. Those "I miss you already", "You're so cute"; to the stares, and the songs we sang together, the quirky smiles and eventually, I find myself holding your hand too, then it went down to hugging you from behind and you don't seem to mind.

I would talk to my friends about you a lot. It would start from the days when i said, "I'm so happy" and escalated to constant phrases of "I'm so tired" and "I can't do this anymore"- and all the sad songs started to make sense.

Believe me when I say you made me happy. You were a much bigger part of my whole, but also broke me at the same time.

Even though you weren't trying to make me happy, yours was effortless, I still felt happy.
Even though I know in yourself tried to love me, and made me believe that you do, I know from the back of your head and the bottom of your heart; I know you're sorry.

I know you're sorry. It's not your fault. Maybe I came off too strong, and I'm sorry too. I'm sorry that I loved you.

I know you're sorry for being a little early and a little too late.
I know you're sorry when you can’t be the one to sweep off my feet.

But I guess I'm the one who should be sorry.
I'm sorry for getting tired playing your silly game and for thinking that I ever had a chance on breaking through your walls, when you, yourself, won’t even let anyone in.
I'm sorry for pulling too many false alarms. And because of you, I never thought that loving and hurting could possibly strike at the same time.

I'm so tired of trying, TRYING to understand you but you just won't let me. You won't let me in.
I just want you to feel how worthy you are- that you deserve to be loved and I want you to feel that with me. But you won't let me.
I know you're scared, because I am too.

Are you scared because you're happy?

I know you're scared to love, but you didn't have to make me feel like you do.


But I get it; Maybe you were scared of what could the outcome be.
Maybe you're scared because you didn't want to end up like your parents or you're scared to feel anything deeper than anything deeper than deep.
Maybe you're scared because you didn’t know how to handle problems, fights or anything that relates to feeling something.
Or maybe, just maybe, you're scared because you don’t know how to make a person stay.


So today, we have to start letting go of each other because we're still there. You're still in that phase and I'm still in that place. I'm still that friend, I'm still that "friend" who holds your hand whenever nobody is looking.


It’s so hard for me to actually explain how i truly feel about you when we can't even have a continuous conversation in a normal day. I don't know how you do it but how can you stay friends with someone you like and hold their hand, and act like there's nothing going on between the both of you, but deep inside you know there really is- and the hardest part is you have to pretend it doesn’t mean anything?


But I took that risk. I took every risk just to be the girl you wanted me to be.
But you lost it.
You lost that girl, because you forgot her.
You forgot how she looked like and how she speaks.
You forgot how she looked like in a happy bright Monday when you're all alone and upset, and she's there to lighten you up but you closed the light.
You forgot how she painted your skies blue and made your sun yellow.


You forgot that she notices you even when she's mad and hurting because of you.
You forgot that nobody looked at you like the way she did-
She's all about you; and nobody will ever love you like I do.
But you lost it.

And I want you to know that no matter how much you have hurt me, I will always be here for you and I will keep waiting. I know it wasn't any of your intentions to hurt me like that, but I made you make me feel like I was special when you really didn't want to.


I know a part of you loved me. I felt it - and i know you did too. I just wonder what went wrong. I even question myself what I did wrong, if it has something to do with the way I dress, or with the way I speak, or with the way I let my guard down easily.


But despite everything, thank you. Thank you for showing me a piece of your world, and handing me a piece of your heart;


We, will keep waiting.
Caitlin Jun 2015
I was appointed section leader again this year,
Despite all of the problems and dram that escalated during my term this past year.
I was convinced that I could not lead,
Via all of the talks I had to have with my band director.
And I still am convinced.
The first week of band camp just ended.
And with my section bugging me because I'm not perfect is tiring.
I'm so confused..
I don't know what to do..
Chris Slade Dec 2018
I’ve O’D’d on Glucosamine Sulphate, so much I’m mentally scarred.
It’s escalated now I’m 70… I’ve mainlined on my Senior Railcard…
I bow down to the Norse God Voltarol… He eases all my pains…
and there’s Deep Heat, Germaloids, even Anusol for the other stresses and strains.

The wondrous Winter Fuel Allowance! That’s what lights our lamp these dark days - ahh, those twilight hours!
But after the logs, it’s not Leccy or Gas we crave? No! We buy ***** with ours…
the Whisky, Gin, *****, Wine, a drop of Brandy too. It all helps us numb the cold
whilst memories of happier times gone by - brighten up this ****** growing old.

Supplements, sterols, statins, aspirin, beta blockers… All the heart meds - life’s a battle.
In the 60s it was *** and Drugs and Rock ’n’ Roll… Now there’s less *** and a lot more rattle!
****** fails to make it now - “no more”, after the last time - she said!
These days the only thing it does is stop me rolling out of bed!

The bus pass lets me roam the world… from John O’Groats to Land’s End.
But these days I travel locally Southwick, Lancing, Steyning; oh yeh and a cousin in far Gravesend.
Further afield; abroad perhaps? Well no…Back then it was Newhaven for the Continent.
But now I’m over 70, well, it’ll just be Worthing for the INCONTINENT!

And… did I say? Not that I was ever in the habit of measuring it you understand - or straightening out the kinks
I’m pretty sure that these days - and ’no’ it’s NOT just the cold… but, your once adequate **** - it shrinks!

I'm sorry...Your *******! It ain't so long!
First poem I read in public as a poetry ******... It went well enough for me to decide that I would do it again.
Cure for Reality Mar 2014
it's there. it's barely there. it's in my reach, but no, it's not, it's so far away. it's swirling, round and round, you know, like the Milky Way. you're my Milky Way, you are. sometimes i pay no mind to the ticking clocks around me, i can travel back in time to that time, where i can hear no ticking clocks, just the melody in our minds, i can only hear your epidermis sliding against mine, i can feel your kiss in my gums, you're the air i inhale. you're my Milky Way, you can stop the time. you slipped your fingers in mine and they fit, like puzzle pieces resting against each other, i found you, you found me, you're in my reach, but so far away. my mind is drenched within your universe, too much that these words are not enough to comprehend. you are so close, yet so far. you are my missing puzzle piece, no matter what the time.

*you are my multiverse.
Lennox Trim Jan 2021
Your honor, 
My opening statement is as simple as this, 
Because of her/
A lot of these problems exist, 
Because I'm hurt/
I have these bandaids on my wrists,
Because of her/
I'm here requesting from you this writ,
....
I'm accusing the defendant of mental Incontinence,
Now Please be warned/
She is more than mentally competent,
She believes her words are to go without consequence,
Then has the gaul to think she deserves compliments,
I mean I'm sure there's a reason for this verbal diarrhea,
Some irreversible treason diva persona supersedes her,
Known to do the most/
While sayin the least,
My heart is the house/
She stopped paying her lease,
Karma's almost as scary , dreary, and tricky as guilt,
How she stopped paying the taxes on the house that we built,
How she just machine wash memories made outta silk,
Just stopped watering her feelings/ causing them to decay and wilt,
Got this heart on my sleeves/
Gotta fill this empty CHAMBER man,
Cause if you tryin to make magic/
Gotta make some major changes man,
These mental blocks so emphatic/
R.I.P Craig sager man,
But its loose ball fouls when I dive to save our plans,
Spent way to much time buildin fences, I'm defenseless,
But still I get defensive,
Payin you attention gets expensive,
I need some time to clear my head/
I may need an extension,
On second thought/
I'm gettin sick of blockin my ascension,
So I'm sueing you for custody of my heart,
I knew you liked to play games/
Knew that from the start,
But when a ***** played too/
You never laughed at that part,
Your body was a masterpiece/
but your mind was the art,
I ****** hate you/
But I loved our conversations,
Kinda how I hate school/
But I love my education,
Now I'm trying to make moves/
That boost my concentration,
cause I cant take losin/
And you're suess when it comes to complication,
Of our useless fights/
I can make a compilation,
Preferred the premium *****/
That prize is the consolation,
Jus when things are lookin up/
I'm in bed with the constellations,
Now I keep **** to myself/
Purposeful constipation,
I told her hit me with your best shot/
Now I'm feelin vaccinated,
Tried to tell her stay woke/
And now she still decaffeinated,
Now I'm Standing in the doorway/
Leonardo decapitated,
Little did I know/
Twas your name on the affidavit,
Tryin fix new problems/
With methods that's outdated, 
Feelins crept down the stairs/
Before they escalated,
Well **** it I'd rather slide/
No fun in the playground full of mood swings,
Felt like we hit the rock wall/
I cant stand the way you do things,
Mastered the art of storytelling/
She was the kubo to my two strings,
Now your carelessness/
can only lead to two things,
Times as hard as a brick clock/
And lies that get you ******* like shoe strings....©️
#courtcase #love #heartbreak #concept
Marshal Gebbie Oct 2009
The assassins hit in 63
And Camelot was gone,
Inspiration vanished
And the darkness sang it’s song.
Vietnam escalated
Brezhnev’s Russia loomed,
Africa was eviscerated
And Red China entombed.
Floating on a long white cloud
The Kiwis were replete
With abundant British markets
For their butter, wool and meat.
The Europeans went ****
And Britain lost it’s way
When the Beatles and the Rolling Stones
Monopolized their day.
Man landed on the moon
And raised the Yankee flag
And they shot Mahatma Ghandi
For making good things out of bad.
The Berlin Wall dividing,
The Cold War tense and spare,
ICBM’s threaten silently
In their silos of despair.
Bob Menzies ruled Australia
As an amassing of his loot
And his White Australia Policy
Condemned him as a brute.
Found naked on her tousled bed,
Blonde hair across her face,
Marylin Monroe is dead
The world’s a darker place.
In the Age of Aquarius
Our children lost their youth,
LSD and smoking ***
And Afro’s were the proof.
Lots of leg in miniskirts,
High bouffant’s in the hair,
Screaming teeny boppers
Rock with Elvis on “the Air”.
Giant, Rawhide, Ponderosa,
Martin Luther King,
Kaftans and a cheese fondue,
Abortion is a sin!

It’s a sixties kaleidoscope,
A panoramic skim
Of an era of wonderment
Which you and I lived in.


Marshalg
@the Gate
Mangere Bridge
20th January 2009
Charles Vorpal May 2021
It all started
As a mere curiosity
But like a snowball
Rolling down a hill......

I ask my parents
Why do you have me
They speak of family legacy
And 'normal' social expectations;
Yet I have nothing worthy to pass down.
So I shall end the bloodline.

I ask the society
Why do you want me?
They speak of cultural survival
And the gods' commandments;
Yet all I see are oppressive traditions.
So I refuse this ancestral peer pressure.

I ask the church
Why do you want me?
They speak of ensuring numbers
And the "natural" way of the world
Yet all I see are hypocrisy and closed minds.
So I slain the gods in my heart and mind

I ask the world
What do you want from me?
It did not answer; it merely shows.
And I see cruelty, I see pain, I see apathy
So I decide, the universe never cared
There is no meaning to it all
Just the fate one creates for oneself
Thus, I vow, I shall end this darkness
And annihilate all of reality
Should gods and demons oppose me
I will cut them down too!
Cyrus Gold May 2016
Feelin’ like a new model keepin’ thoughts in a safe
Nothin’ but new beginnings while maintainin’ the faith
Of better days ahead, walkin’ away instead
The world on my shoulders while walkin’ on eggshells

Difficult steps lead to redemption, no need for attention
Dowsin’ my sorrows in drinks with a fear of reinvention
Weakened souls lackin’ ambition – ones that we attend to
Distracted by the means to makin’ profit

Pharaohs and kings reach Ozymandias
Castle of the manliest reduced to rubble
Inspiration's a privilege, the uninitiated struggle
Lookin’ to the stars closer to Mercury

Celebrating longer than a single anniversary
Build the padlocked building blocks of the brain, preventin’ burglary
Intellect protection needs remedial advancement
Followin' the lessons and morals of real testaments

Crimson waters divided by Moses, halving the sea
Aidin’ people across, the shepherd leadin’ the sheep
Heated cycle of violence by disciples
De-escalated by the sacred teachings of the bible

Able to color-code their understandin’ with a cipher
Gifted in nature, minus robotics turnin’ sentient

WE MARCH!
Hand-in-hand in unison! A unit full of sin
But we protect the world from Judases,
Our doubts are in the wind

A state of peace we feel the crew is in
The rest will follow soon,
Our inner voice of hate is ludicrous
It sings a hollow tune.

Leavin' this place without askin' just where the exit is,
Keep a steady pace as we're headin' right into exodus.


Lessons are taught to help you rise from the fall,
Nirvana awaitin' – you better answer the call.
One of my personal favorites. Written at a time when I needed divine inspiration.
Julian D Aug 2018
Blinded by the sunlight that shines so brightly,
it proceeds to massage my spectacles,
rinsing the grime away from my eyes,
there lived mankind, buildings, plants, and animals,
but where was I, unaware of the planet I saunter,
I look in amazement, unborn to what to forecast,
but then I distinguished the dark side, somber and bleak,
impoverished skeletons walking hunchbacked, desperately
scrambling for silver, as so to purchase a bottle of liquor and a burger to indulge his vacancy that absents him,
as I trek my way further into this metropolis,
I hear a sudden commotion arising from the right direction,
it begins to steer me that way, luring me in deeply there was a mass of onlookers chanting on, of what seemed to be two individuals pummeling one another into a bloodbath, but then it escalated, the crowd began to all partake in the beating and it caused a mayhem, that was uncontrolled, I bolted the scene, protecting my mask from getting dismantled, as suddenly I hear a very deafening noise, it was a four wheeler wagon, that speedily amtrac it's way towards the locus in which we was in, everyone scattered the scene, as the people who dressed in uniform annihilated the scene, putting an outright stop to the madness that occurred, forestalling future procreation from the participants, my heart shriveled and I gasped for air, I ran aimlessly into a town that was lively and sunny, as I saw mankind playing sports, clubbing, riding nice convertibles, homes were futuristic, plants were vegetated, smiles and giggles were infectious, everyone was cheerful and amused enjoying this utopian I discovered, it was care-free, as folks walked in suit and ties, formal dresses, luggages entering and exiting, dialect as clear as caribbean sea, friendly animals chaperoned by their owner, "where am I?", "what was this strange but yet interesting soil I embark on?", ..... I don't know, but it closes me in like a maze and I'm forced to live as they.
Redshift Aug 2013
all i said
was that i'd always wanted to own a used bookstore
since i was a kid
and you replied
that you could get used to
seeing my **** ***
behind a counter
i don't mean to be cliche
but that kind of escalated
rather quickly,
******
AC Sep 2016
I wonder
I wonder why
I wonder why I feel at ease

I wonder again

I wonder  what
*
I wonder what’s with you

I wonder, cause I can't help it
I wonder *how

I wonder how feelings escalated this fast

I wonder with all of these adverbs but I've got no answer. And then, I find myself asking
"Are you the one or are you the next to break my heart?"
Nigel Obiya Dec 2012
Reality one, Mayans nil
They said I will cease to be, but I am… still
By the twenty first we’d all be dead… they said
I wonder how many people that believed feel like they got played.
Reality one, Mayans nil
If they could see this, I wonder… how these Mayans would feel
So many predictions close to home
But they had to go for the big one
The major gamble… at the big boys’ table
A three legged table mind you, a bet that’s very unstable
One does not just simply predict the end of days… not that simply
One minute we’re talking eclipses… the next, doomsday
That escalated quickly!
Reality still won though… because ‘I am’ still
Oh, how I feel…
Invincible now… it’s like I am steel
I knew it though, because this is my time
Mine… not theirs; it’s not even their time to borrow
Now to celebrate life all over again
Party all night… cross a road, get hit by a car, hit the ground and ironically enough be dead by this time tomorrow.
Dear me! I dare say that seems to have escalated quite hastily...
Xienab Jul 2014
8 years old.
Singing to the playground.
One, two
Buckle my shoe...

18 years old.  
Singing to my lover.          
One, two  
I fell for you...

Three, four                          
You're the only one I adore.

Five, six
We're like a solar eclipse.
You as the sun and I as the moon
Our alignment is lovely.

Seven, eight
An escalated heart rate.
Started at 65 heartbeats.
Tracing limbs... 72.
Kissing contours..
96.

Nine, ten.
I keep falling for you.
Over and over again.
Alex Fountain Feb 2014
Nobody teaches you how to react when you are woken up by the people you live with as they are screaming obscenities at each other.
Nobody teaches you how to defend your mom against the one she chose to marry and his demeaning words, full of hatred and anger.
Nobody teaches you how to tell the phone operator what is happening while also trying to stop the tears that continue to pour from your already burning eyes.
Nobody teaches you how to pry a 45 year old from a 14 year old or how to stay safe until the police arrive at your house.
Nobody teaches you how to convince your brother to come back inside after running away into the cold, December winds in order to protect himself.
Nobody teaches you how to quickly and efficiently pack your belongings into three small bags when your home life escalates from bad to worse to hell-on-earth.
Nobody teaches you how to tell your friends that you will not be coming back to school.
And nobody teaches you how to survive when you are no longer welcome to live at the place you once called home.

Nobody taught me how to react when I was woken up by the people I lived with as they were screaming obscenities at each other.
I was not aware that standing outside my bedroom door – with every limb of my body cemented into place and stricken with fear, unable to move or even breathe, let alone defuse the situation – was worthy of being verbally attacked.
I did not know what to do when actions were required.

Nobody taught me how to defend my mom against the one she chose to marry and his demeaning words, full of hatred and anger.
I could not think of the right words to say to put an end to
the hysteria in which my mom was continuously put down and verbally spat upon.
I could not think of the right steps to take to ensure she would no longer fall victim to words that did not accurately describe her worth.
I did not know how to defend my own mother.

Nobody taught me how to tell the phone operator what was happening while also trying to stop the tears that continued to pour from my already burning eyes.
I did not know how to breathe properly - in and out, in and out - or how to put my words into coherent sentences or how to listen to what I was being told from the operator and my mom and the cacophony of other voices that were piercing my ears with every uttered sound or how to recall my name, age, and address.
I did not know how to make a simple phone call.

Nobody taught me how to pry a 45 year old from a 14 year old or how to stay safe until the police arrived at my house.
I never before had to witness the strength that adrenaline causes a scrawny, teenage boy to possess.
I never before had to witness the deranged sight of a pair of eyes when they are locked onto your only brother, waiting and wanting to hurt him in more ways than one.
I never before had to witness and endure the way in which seconds seem to last hours when waiting for the police to bring safety and an end to the nightmare that had become real life.
I did not know how to escape the paralyzing effect of pure, unfathomable fear.

Nobody taught me how to convince my brother to come back inside after running away into the cold, December winds in order to protect himself.
I did not realize that sometimes letting my younger brother run away from home is the best thing to do.
I did not realize that sometimes the police agree that you should not chase after kids who run away.
I did not realize that sometimes he would rather be cold than bruised.
I did not know how fast a person could run when he is scared.

Nobody taught me how to quickly and efficiently pack my belongings into three small bags when my home life escalated from bad to worse to hell-on-earth.
I could not differentiate between what items were wants and what items were needs, what items I needed to live and what items I needed to survive.
I could not differentiate between the voice of the police telling me to “hurry up” and the voice in my head telling me “you aren't going fast enough.”
I did not know how to move out.

Nobody taught me how to tell my friends that I will not be coming back to school.
I cannot absorb the questions that I am relentlessly asked: Yes, I am okay; No, I don't know what's going to happen; Maybe I will be able finish out the week.
I cannot absorb the look of disbelief and confusion in the eyes of my closest friends and even those who I can only call acquaintances.
I do not know how to leave my friends.

Nobody is teaching me how to survive since I am no longer welcome to live at the place I once called home.
I was not aware how quickly feelings can, and do, change from acceptance to rejection.
I could not think of what was going through my mom's head as she and her children were mercilessly attacked with both sentences and strength.
I did not know how to talk to the 9-1-1 dispatcher when my words were so desperately needed.
I never before had to witness such deep animosity within one household.
I did not realize that sometimes words hurt just as much as sticks and stones.
I could not differentiate between the sounds of stomping feet and the sounds of police banging on the door.
I cannot absorb the fact that I am not allowed to go back to the place I lived for four years.
*I do not know what to do.
Colm Sep 2018
Inches away from you
        Never there but ever present
        As your breath is lifted up unto the heavens

Elevated is the air upon your words
        Escalated, the anticipation of your voice
        Among the noise

Where the only scene to see is peace
        Held quietly in reverie
        And respect for your mere presence

Find with ease
        The smile of the self-reveals
        A quietness of hearts appeal

Not to be seen
        But to seek the conversation speak
        And to peak the words of interesting

Mere inches now away from me
        With no voice let to find the time
        Or threnodic melody

Don’t let me down
        My inward voice
        Speak
My articulation often fails me because I secretly want it to fail (so as not to try again). But still, when she walks by, this is what I often hear. Inspired by Goldmunds - Threnody | https://youtu.be/mdEuCRiW2l0
ephemeral May 2016
I’m ashamed to say I’ve become a bit of a thief;
A pickpocket of sorts.

It started out small.
A few roses from our neighbors’ garden, every now and then.
I knew it was wrong to take something that wasn’t mine,
But I fell in love with the way your eyes lit up
when I held out those little bits of stolen life, stolen joy.

It soon escalated after that.
I saw the way you gazed lovingly up at the moon,
and I became determined to make it yours.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried,
The moon remained unattainable.
(There is only one, after all.)
I figured I’d aim for the next best thing, so
I hope you like the stars I stole for you.
hi guys! I know I've been gone for a while, but I'm back, and I'm starting a new series, which I'm super excited about.
as always, feedback would be lovely.
agdp Jan 2010
These Nights with lights, Lightened from cigarette filled clouds to rainstorms.
We are drowning our Inhibition to exhibitions, of a shallow madness.

Within a matter of clearance
Of transverse sunrays:
We call this morning
A day past,
A night ruled with dreams.
Flooded with traffic afflicted
Souls searching beneath empty vessels of libations
Only to unearth realizations from lost sensations.

Vagabonds patrolling streets
apparently policing their worries,
from failed inquiries of maternally adopted creeds.

Divided vision escalated arrhythmic palpitation
Deviation from a gradual calm away from calamity
Expel, Exhort-Excise, the deep-veil

A rising dawn, polluted skies reflected in these eyes,
I stare at this street lamp, flickering at-us-all.
11/20/08 ©AGDP
Chrysta Ashlock Feb 2013
Things escalated immensely, which led to things that she wasn’t expecting to ever happen between the two of them again. Kissing had turned into foreplay which overall led to intimacy. Pain struck her immediately, then as quickly as it began it became uncontrollable pleasure.
It has been months since their bodies were last intertwined together with their heavy breathing and hearts pounding wildly. There is no mistaking the scratches she had left upon his back. Never before was it this intense. All of their ****** tension has been relieved from the both of them.
Only days before she had confessed her undying wanting of him, since they had departed from one another’s lives’. Though now they are just friends – friends whom share an intimate relation together. There was no passion, no romance in this single occasion. Nothing will come of this in the days to come.

Days have passed, and she sits wondering if he thinks any less of her for the things she had said to him. What he has yet to know, is that she wants him for more than his body, more than ***, she wants him for who he is. Lust is strong, but it has not overpowered her; he has rose high upon her and is controlling her very emotions. Every time he walks past, her breath is taken away with just a slight glance and her heart goes down into her stomach with a lip-biting flip-flop.
Thoughts flash back to when their bodies were intertwined and seemed to fit together as if they were to be one. ****** tension rises once again at the mere thought, and then fades away with the knowledge that was merely a one-night stand. Perhaps it was for the best to never happen again…

Insomnia has overcome her, and leaves her to be tortured by agonizing flashbacks. Memories of past lovers fill her head. There was so much lust and anger in those relations. All she can do is jot down her thoughts so they will possibly cease to return.

‘Oceans upon oceans of gigantic gusts of wind are constantly consuming my every emotion, every thought and memory. If only a black hole of darkness will swallow the memories completely, then I will finally be at peace with my life. Until then I will constantly be fighting the memories away, hoping they will fall at bay.
My ****** tension keeps building up, creating a mountain of frustration within me.’
this is not a poem.
written: 4.08
Stephen E Yocum May 2016
Started with words as most things do.
anger escalated to yelling and swearing.
She came at me, fire and hate in her eyes,
This petite little woman I called my wife.
Her fists pounding my face and chest.
Shocked more than hurt, I extended my
arm to hold her off.

No man could ever do what she just did,
Not without my strong physical rebuke.
Yet I turned not a hand to this woman I loved.
A day before I would have taken a bullet for her,
and now it appears she'ed **** me if she could.

How does Committed Love so quickly turn to this?
So it would seem, love is not even skin deep.
My father warned me of this fact, a truth
I refused to hear, and upon him I had turned
my back and chosen her.

To her disrespect and abuse,
I did what any decent man would do,
I walked out the door and never returned.
Relax friends, thankfully this is not truly autobiographical.
Yet it does happen all too often, just did to a young friend
of ours. Abuse is not merely a male disease. Girls and
women too, can and are infected. A learned behavior,
a sad family legacy passed down from damaged parents.
Sally A Bayan Jun 2013
My blood pressure escalated
Upon sight of the messy living room.
There was clutter everywhere,
Even on the dining table.
The bedrooms weren't spared at all.

I went to the bathroom, I slid and hit the floor...
What's a ball doing inside the bathroom?
My eyebrows curled....but,
I refused to give in to the situation.

With a sigh, I went to the kitchen
To get coffee and a sandwich,
With marmalade and cheese....
As I opened the fridge,  an avalanche
Of cheese, butter and bread
Fell on my feet.

I was really upset by now, but,
I decided to print some recipes, instead
I loaded some paper into the paper tray,
But got stuck all the way.  Just as I suspected....
Carefully, I pulled out underneath the tray,
A ball pen, a pencil, and some sticks of crayolas.

Too much to take at this early hour, I told myself.
I sat on the sofa, smiled as I saw a photo of
Myself, with five beautiful girls.....sweet little angels....
I imagined their faces,  wearing naughty smiles,
Their antics,  and their tactics, as well, their mischief...
I thought that,
...........life is too short, time is fleeting............
...........also, I'm not getting any younger.............
...........precious moments rarely happen twice.......
...........they'll be young ladies soon enough........
...........the house would be too neat by then........
...........no more cookie crumbs on the carpet........
...........no more scattered toys and books on the floor......
...........no more writings on the wall,
...........disastrous games and all..........

I miss my five granddaughters already.......

Oh, what the heck!   I sat back and relaxed
Amidst the mess and clutter.....I closed my eyes,
Savoring moments of pleasure, past and present,
On a stressful day, like today........

Sally


Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
nessa Dec 2014
When water is all you love
Come to me
When all you do is love
Come to me
When all you do is be you
Come to me
When all you do is bleed
Come to me
When all you do is hurt
Come to me
When you do is human
Come to me*

Oh, dear, it all escalated, didn't it?
But now I know you are pure, and love, and human
Come to me, that's all I'll ever need
You are human, you aren't perfect, you are human. That's all anyone could ask you to be so be it. Be pure, love, and human.
Sharon Stewart Oct 2011
There was no need to ever
stop and ask
if you were listening
when I was mid-ramble.
But I would anyway.
It's true, you remembered everything,
heard me above a football game,
I'd stop mid sentence, and you
hung on every word on the phone,
attentive to any thought that passed
by my lips.
I think you must have really
loved me for a while.

When you
left me, I never completely
picked myself back up
off the ground.
No one was there to listen.
Things escalated,
I got
lost in my mind,
fell to pieces this summer.
Homeless,
I needed to leave,
run away and brave the
farmlands of America,
get back to where
I started,
find the easy, unassuming
cornfields of my youth
to hide away in for a while.

I called you at the end.
You know how you said
you were always listening?
Feisty and broken and living in my car.
Wild like a cornered animal,
with darting, untrusting eyes.
It was too late for me to talk.
I wonder if you blame yourself.

We got drunk
because a part of you will always
want me, and slept together
in your new apartment that
I was a stranger in.
Do you remember the way my nails
would dig into you?
"Tell me you love me,"
I pleaded that night.
Do you listen
still
to things I used to say
in your head?
You left me so
long ago, but I know
the voices of ghosts
don't know how
to keep time.

I was ***** a month before.
I don't know any other way
to tell you.
I didn't know him.
Went out with him, hoping to meet
a good listener I guess.
He
did all the talking.
I was cautious and polite, but
he got angry after a few drinks,
something came over him,
****** and serpentine.
Locked me in his truck and drove.
I couldn't fight back, and that
thrilled him. Made him want it more.
His eyes were brown, the only thing
gleaming in the dark.
Carried me through tall cedars,
pitch black night,
miles from civilization.
His own secret spot, he said.
He was so strong,
hands careless and hard.
Tried to throw me into the water,
rushing loud like dark acid, threatening to hide
any evidence.
Dispose of me easy.

You left with more dignity,
but it felt just the same.
That's why I couldn't tell you.
When I was brave and determined
and set on changing things,
I couldn't.
When I was alone and broken
and begging for it to stop,
it didn't.
How could I ask you for help that night?
You gave up listening
long before he left me wounded
and tattered
on the bank of the Sandy River.

Two thousand miles away now,
I sigh through rolling farms in
perfect solitude,
watching the same stars, fuzzy and far,
that I watched helpless through cedars
on that night that everything looked
so far away.
With practice, I learn to hear
the sound of my own thoughts
again
and then, slowly and steadily,
begin to explain myself to
the only listening ears
of corn around me.
unknown Jan 2015
Yo I aint tryna do drugs bro
Just tryna feel the natural high that life can give tho
Was too caught up with giving a care
The **** I look like, a bear?

Dont know how long this '**** it' mood will last
But it better help me learn something from that ****** past
I'm ready to leave it all behind yo
Life's like a stop light, and right now it's green so let's go

Speaking of it, nothing's better than letting it all pass
Getting lost in the music, life is a dance so shake your ***
Nothing better than being me,
If you gotta problem better drink your own ***

Lol just kidding!
Or was I really
Come join me with this song I'm singing
It's a catchy beat so let loose and let go of your feelings
Tonight's the night that we are numb
Yeah kinda young, but not really dumb

Gotta watch out cause too much fun will get your *** kicked
Hopefully this night would be longer than your ****
**** sorry that escalated too quickly
My bad, but **** I'm not really guilty

Well man idk what to say
I guess lets just make the night fade away
Like our feelings that we felt in the past
Lol no more of that, let's live life fast
Jeff Barbanell Mar 2014
We run our course
We go the extra mile
We stay up sustaining immortality
Our deaths turned round
Projects on behalf of Eros
When we usually preach Agape
We enact sequential art performed with grace
Luna tunes colored water splashable you
In person honey with unlimited shelf life
We mate across spanned labyrinths a maze
Combs ensconced with nectar leading back to queen
Our hive stops the minute drones bring home virus
Reconstructed renewability narrative needing update
Horton hears who made the sky say so much
Way past expiration date skids our frictional kiss
We could almost imagine eternity naming the date
Mutual assured destruction averted by forming pact
Loosens the chain reaction fused by fission escalated
To the max man’s post-apocalyptic grocery store tale
Sells e-foods gold light fear energy time bubble Dimension X
Dash between dates tombstoned selfie virtual cemetery
Tandem lovers pass together clasping each last breath alone
Little deaths punctuate like piano keys pluck cat gut strums
Enameled amber encased in static slabs conjoined by fringe elements
Dark n Beautiful Sep 2014
A Mother's Sorrow (Pieta)
The sweet reggae music slapped inside the head
Echoes throughout the night
A gang of youngsters argument escalated vowing to killed all polices
The marijuana smoke rises to sky in a timely manner to the
The new dance choreography movements which cause a stampede
As the Queen of the dance hall movements reign like fire
Suddenly, they blades came out of nowhere
Aiming at the homosexuals on the dance floor
Piercing their hand upwards the homos desperately defense themselves
Frantic cried in the night; this is not right.
A youngster grabs his side as he slowly fall to ground
The heartless crowd echoes the lyric
Man down man! **** down!
The party music continue louder than every
Intoxicated females held on to their dates
(Mother of Sorrows) mother of sorrows
Unlike the modern Pieta a mother cradles her only son.
His body slumped to the ground
Arcassin B Jun 2015
By Arcassin Burnham

Scowl up my face for the moves you make,
You Are the definition to finding a word in the Webster's dictionary,
I'm so Appalled!!!!!
No better way to punish someone you want to destroy in an office full of documents and papers for charitable organizations,
That can be dealt with later,
He enjoys the oral way too often,
And shes never been penetrated,
masterful until he's in his coffin,
Virginity will get authenticated,
Escalated,
Elevated,
Rejuvenated,
Just be glad that your face is straightened.
Lol I like the title
How unprepared I was when midnight approached me by
Emission of vivid green neon lights
From the futuristic skyscrapers to my unworldly eyes
But more imposing
A suspended meteor in the sky
Upon the decrepit city which never stood
My arrival at Midnight City, my peculiar neighborhood
Thumping tracks and frantic sirens
Bombard tremendous fear in my senses
Amid the resonating pantomime that cracks throughout my head
Merciless cyborgs arrive from nowhere
And threaten mankind with unthinkable weapons
Their bleak empty eyes bring dogmatic order
As my escalated fears enslave me well
Inside the mechanical serpent that darts
With endless slick demented rails
On such a twisted mind, it begins to run
Confused and addled, I have no control of this matter
Only worries dwell my mind
The arrival of this mysterious force is my greatest baffle
Does this herald the degeneration of Gaia?
What is this complex machinery that enslaves all men?
Where does this designate human posterity and fate?
What was done for an act of retribution?
Does this unprecedented apocalypse null all human solutions?

In this dark tunnel, on a decrepit couch
The dauntless train begins to screech with endless laughter
As it tears tempestuously faster and faster
Until all unearthly fluorescent lights blend together
Thumping tracks and frantic sirens
Eighty-six notches louder
Alternating flashes of red and green
Fourteen seconds prior
A silhouette of a white demon projects from afar
As it begins to approach us, its image ever becomes so bizarre
Add a second of suspended silence of jest
Before we scream and ensue
The fatal crash
This poem is based on an epic nightmare I had years ago.

John Archievald Gotera © 2012 - 2015
Dre De Asis Jan 2013
Strong as I may be, I'm but a mere puzzle shattered to it's pieces.
Longing for reason to be fabricated slowly ceases.
Abhorrence, despair, trepidation devour me
It's a tragic nightmare, bestir me I plea!

Take me away, let's venture to a purlieu, me and you.
I know not who you are, yet I feel comfort, so sincere, so true.
Oh how I yearn to stray from this reality
and flee in a strange and unknown fantasy

A place where no one can ever run after me,
leaving behind all this dilemmas that engulf thee.
to a place of secrecy just you and me.
No one can surpass the walls we'll make, you'll see.

We'll isolate ourselves from the tragedies that escalated
leave behind the people that shattered us, leaving us  devastated.
As I fall to yet another slumber
I will cry myself to sleep, hoping for a huge ember

to ignite, for reborn I am, with nothing to remember.....
Mahima Gupta Dec 2013
As each thought escalated,
Insanity got a new definition .
The consonants betrothed,
The vowels rejoiced,
But every second,
The meaning died.

— The End —