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Kenna Sep 2012
Head spinning
Feet tapping
Mind wrapping
Thought trapping
Idea capping
Desperation mapping
Quality lacking

Spaces filled
Time killed
Not thrilled
Answers willed

Nails biting
Cheaters sighting
After all nighting
Wrongs not righting
Feel like flighting

Brainpower waning
Lack of knowledge maintaining
Wisdom draining
Composure regaining

Test failing
Arms flailing
Letters mailing
Face paling
The big unveiling
No more prevailing
The action entailing:
My annihilation
Disorganized Chaos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
I hate people who trivialize any sadness.
If they're suffering, why should they be mocked?
You answer for me.
Don't tell me they're implying
They're suffering is greater than others
Or that they're intensifying
The flighting emotion that need not be exaggerated
Because you don't known their pain,
Get an insight to their thought,
Accept their pain into yourself--
Yes you have suffered, none can deny that
But if you don't respect the man
Comparatively weaker, or sound
How can anyone respect your position?
You are a parasite,
Lost in the host
You feed off sadness
You know it's a drought
Yet you remain cynical
So simple in your name.
Your life is filled with hollow anguish
You'll never learn in time

And in my dread
I know you are me...
A Machele Nov 2012
restless spirit
stirring soul
unapproved mindless control

flighting freedom
twisted wake
cloudy dreamless state

unendless wanderlust
an aching search
purging growing rebirth
fort myers fl
Evan Stephens Jan 2021
Join me beneath
an eight percent moon
that shook itself free
from Irish holly
on its way to
bearded stone.
Agent of itself,
it little cares what
we'll do here,
in this rose garden
of shadow flighting.
Join me in the sliver
of tinnish light
that wanes into the berries,
& shove your breath
into mine with clear intent.
We wear dresses of silence.
The mottling dark
clenches your hair.
A faceless statue
chaperones no one.
Maria Williams Apr 2016
Why are women like god?
Creatures made of stardust.
Shining.
Brilliantly, radiant.
Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn.
I burn.
I burst.
I break.
Encompassing every part of my soul.
Feel the noise.
Feel the joys.
Feel me.
Touch every part of me I hide.
Reach your hands into my rib cage and grab hold of my heart.
I've always liked your art.
Words are often like fighting.
Fighting flighting demons within.
Yourself.
You.
Stand tall and be.
Believe.
Sometimes you don't need to see.
It's a feeling.
It's a feeling.
That feeling is me.
It's like hopelessness and hope.
On your worst days, you pray to just cope.
Everything is everything.
Everything is nothing.
It's all around us.
It's all around us.
Spinning worlds of wisdom
And truth.
The truth is.
The truth is a lie.
I'll live with my secrets until I die.
Open mouth, closed eyes.
Feel me.
Free me.
Seeing is believing.
Megan Hundley Apr 2012
true do what we need
its a car breathing fumes
awakening upward
chorus of the northen lights
if all called were new dreams
by and by
and I speak with vapors
fire flighting downward perhaps
you can join next visit to
the raid


put your head in the rage
numbing only to the wishing well
in corner pockets bearing honey bees
there wasn't any more to win
other than the wedded love
of your freckled focus
and father died
in a golden ring
my fingers
beckoned by scents
stroke her hair;
as soft as silk

her ******* move
with gentle sighs
giving more than beauty
not flighting the distance

while the skin shimmers
as tender flowers
in an open meadow

her eyes play
like black beads
in the andante rhythm
of a desiring heart

hidden behind voile
looking for me,
in hopeless, shady smart
I never could bring myself
To cherish, to dwell old things
No matter how precious and incredible
They mean much but nothing at all
Everything--no! If not remembered
It possesses a curse so much worse than that of Satan
For rather than a dark willed essence
From worlds unknown
It's neither malicious nor ugly
No, an irresistible temptress--
I know it.
The old things are no more than
A petrifying, putrefying reminder
That in their memory falling from minds
Everthing and I, too, will be forgotten.
In a decade, a century, or eon past my time
Certainly due to life's laws
And true nature of everything essential
I'm a flighting flick in a sea
A daunted shadow beneath the surface
A face among billions passed and passed.
Pramod Shinde Jun 2015
Dear Mother Earth,

Flighting thoughts...
Lost freedom...
Questioned existence...

Twisted wake
Without morning song...
Cloudy dreams
Empty survivance...

We end you
We broke you
Now we at the end
Surrendering you

Here we
To Surrender
And Surrender
And to
more surrender...

Save us!!!

Your Un-human Child,
Human.
Micah Hoffman Dec 2016
His Lordship forgot, siren’s slave-ship become, flighting.
Delusion, until fog horn let out it’s truthful blast. Lightning.
Caused rocky shores to be shown, even absent lighting.
Confusion lifted, anchors tossed, perhaps not all’s lost.
Hull pierced, as if cannon foddered, deck arrested, splintered, shuddered.
Sharper sharper, mast the sharpest, shard upwards, sail white masted.
Surrendered, will rendered, I lay, with strength hindered, fasted.
Waking, after night spent with foamed water taking.
Waiting, ocean water like a ballast, weighting.
Humility, as fatal shores show in after storm tranquility.
Oh, amazing grace, how sweet the sound!
For its’ warning blast, the siren’s call was drowned.
Tide lowered, ship on reef rock towered,
Mercy’s trophy, castled once, now bowered.
Humility, raised like the sun from blue depths, lucidity.
Such pleasant places walled ship from sin,
Reef boundaries, like a garden, hedged in.
Clarkia Aug 2021
The sun rose red and then orange
The temperature stayed low
Lower then it has been
Will it still cross 100 degrees?
Smoke hazed the air brown
The dry red dust joined the ash
Dancing and twirling on the low winds
In twisters broken by the road cut
Underground rodents in burrows
Rushed through the maze
Flighting for their lives
As water trucks spread droplets
That quickly evaporate
We are not sustainable
Xander B Oct 2018
One day, everything changed. The world will never be the same.
From when the One big banged. Sparking it all from where we came.
Bringing life to the life-less. Igniting the flames of love.
Singing strength to the breath-less. Flighting from it like a dove.
Setting the Sun, Moon and stars above. Together in the Heavens of the sky.
Firmament of faith, hope and true love. Forever protecting and keeping dry.
The Earth so specially created. For us all to care and be cared.
Do not be decieved or deflated. For this all can be known and shared.
The world we've been taught is not how it seems.
For there is much evil that seethes and teems.
The God of this Earth is not who we think. Our true home is not from here.
God in Heaven is to who we should link. The Devil paces the pier.
Eager to throw us overboard to sink. Our one hope, the divine Seer.
Bringing us back from the depths and the brink. Almost unconcious, death near.
But since the beginning we all had choice. The power to change our destinies.
Every single one of us has a voice. Let's use them against the enimies.
Making this world a better place. Clean for the next generation.
Take a look at You face to face. Tell You "I can lead this nation."
With that, follow out into the New World, with God's grace we will be great.
No more fetal position, curled. For spreading love has always been fate.
And up we all whirled, standing together at the big white pearly gate.
Waiting to be judged. For the rest to join.
So if you feel nudged, don't bet your last coin.
Put your faith in God. He will do wonders.
With just one head nod, all evil slumbers.
In the land of fairy tales lives a tiny Pixie with golden orbs, etched in detail  
with two pointed ears and pointy hat she is untouchable like the Holy Grail
In the fairy Kingdom lives the Silvan Elf contented with all his Tolkien lore
and every tale brings laughter and flighting, in the Forest of "open doors"  
In this land of fairy tales, a gaggle of mages use elements without trail ;

Little dwarves no bigger then my thumb ducking beneath tall blades of grass
reconciliation spells by magic lanterns lit, from gold to yellow, copper, brass
Their territory and dominion is the land between the trees, while the muses
scribe, on illusionary parchment as translucent as a moon beam, they douse
the fires of reality. In the land of fairy tales only magic lives with cheeky sass

In the mind of children and the very old alike, lives a splendorous green haven
where all fears and loneliness is spoofed away, and all hunger quickly shaven
With mushrooms as tall as I, and crunch bit Cashews as big as a drop of dew,  
no one slumbers without a full tummy and a yamusical song of sweet renew
Magical moon whispers and pranksters with a lisper, they even got a raven

Flying solo in the sky, in this fantabulous land of imagination Victor, is hero.
Lexie Oct 2022
I was never a little girl
You’re always a hundred years old
When you’re fighting and flighting
And freezing
It’s just so **** cold
My throat is raw
From begging you to love me
All I ever hear back
Is you raising your voice
To tell me to shut up
I am quiet now, daddy
You made me
But you can’t see me
Ironic
Since I’m the one haunted
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
I was hardly thinking when I entered the acropolis
The windy roads talked of carefree days, I was to last
At last, my chance came in the talk of strangers in cinema pans and wave cuts
Interfaced, by the aversion to cloudy vision, I adjusted my glasses
Walking among others, could not be more perusing and anticipating
The dissipating dreariness was really smothering my look for a change
Yesteryears shifted by my tainted feeling of flighting writes, and unopened letters
The mailman checks my mail in the mailbox and the ordinariness of things
Committing to the vapid and the milk and closeted wine, in the shepherd's column
My hands were painted with writer's ink, the thoughts just kept flowing
In the rainmaker writer, it was a syllable of doubt and dough, that I was looking at a compensation or stay
The company wasn't hard to come by, the room was charged quarters
In the middle, there was a trapdoor and I felt drawn and quartered
Garrulous crowds talked of Garibaldi, Aristotle, and praise was the talk of the century
Mephistopheles has become somewhat of an errant symbol of a syllogism with your sins
One leads to the other, and follows the posterior, laying logos for following the argument
The argument is not something that writes in my journal, but, it crossed my mind, anyway.


Voracious readers, devoted people, and a couple of friends made my stay, a welcoming farm
Likewise, life's not picket-fences, gambling, drunkenness and staying alive
It's living life to it's fullest and appreciating each moment like it's your last class in life
At some point, philosophy can be unspeakably lame
Well, your ambitions are lame too, and women need to trample over
Just tramping a few, could get you shiny shoes in this American dream
We have divorced ourselves from the idea of nationalism, and I'm sure we make good citizens
I am not even sure why entered the acropolis, as it does not accept speakers like the colosseum
Crossing paths and circling winds were once where crossed swords in history
No, I'm in Rome and looking at the short nightcaps and scenic speakeasy, my mind is wasted on women
But, books and bookers and fantastic factotums who service my every need
Once, they used to shine my car, as I walked among Hollywood stars
Now, I live with my estranged wife and intermittent wives, who are feral and feline
I might even call some of the lithe, but, you're on my mind
Smelling the paint off some of them reminds me of your person laconic and pale
Some of these girls were rather beautiful, I must say, but, the heart was lost with you
Nursing your every need and caring for you, was the biggest burden
That I learned to cherish, and the love was unreal
It was fading like the wind catching me in those eyes
The first sight was love, and now I see you every day as a routine
In the hospice, hoping cancer doesn't spread in the acropolis
Polished ceilings and hovering over us are towering structures, and love is no object
Love is an ordeal, and it takes hard work and effort
These days in this short day in the life of the caring girl, the buildings, and the houses
Living in this city remains all dead, but, empty
Dying in this city remains all dead, but, dying seems more real with
As all this fame, is make-believe
This acropolis is mortal
You are immortal, busy leaving a good feeling
Which is something I can believe in, even through existential crises
Aditya Roy Aug 2019
Alight with the void
Flighting in fautal corners
Observing her expanse and countenance, still sparsing
I pray you to be silent about all Gods, I don't want a book that silences me
However, music is respected by nihilists too, and the blackness shadows over me like your cosmetic
wordvango Sep 2020
a bee
flighting flower to ****
sweet
as honey on a limb
parting petals folds
nectar
on wings total
freedom nature as a thing

— The End —