Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
JL Aug 2018
In brief: scalpel words so cheap
Misanthropic cold compress
Jaded and hard in denial
Heavely Medicated without
Prescription

Mute Pain
Guilt soaked peace
Once more
At least
On this rock
I’ve built my church
And drunk of this poisoned cup
Enough

Salted sigh the spike
Do not resuscitate
For the bones of it
Are a pistol cool pressed
To a temple
Derelict  

Sleep without rest
Please, one more breath
Vein or scar
Blood loss
And the cost:
Everything
The cracks and lines from where you gave up, they make an easy man to read
Solaces Jan 2014
I have 11 hours left. I am adrift in a beautiful expanse outside our Galaxy. My mission is done. I have sent back all information I have gathered. So many wonderful things I have found.. Amazing that in my journey across this part of the galaxy I was able to find 41 planets that could sustain life.

I now sit in the cockpit staring among this beautiful expanse. There is no end to beauty out here. When my 11 hours are up I will simply fall asleep. Alone. I am alone.

(2 days later)
I take a deep breath and open my eyes. I am drifting by a huge blue star. I swear I see people outside floating! They are all in orbit of this blue star. My HEART BEGINS TO RACE.. My 11 hours were up long ago! How is this possible!?

I then see her come to the window. She seem to pass through it. My love! I had lost her 6 years ago. Could I have found her. Is this her soul? She looked into my eyes. She spoke my name. It was her! She kissed my neck and sent heavely chills across my body. We made love time and time again among the nameless stars.. We both fell asleep together.. I think I have found heaven!
If you go far enough..
Md Iqbal Hossen Feb 2018
Have you heard the sound of cataract?
It sings a song of beauty and
Examplifies the glory of  nature
How sweet her hidden songs are!

She invites birds, insects, and stroms
To play different sorts of music.
She orders to trees and grass to set
The green carpet on the soil.
Accepting to make a colourful  backgroud,
Butterflies, fireflies, and rainbow have come.
How delicate her heavely tone is!

I know,  you can't believe my words.
Go to her, listen to her song
Her song is as melodious as Ariel
Her background is as lucrative as Helen
Her stting of all is not less adorable than Aphrodite.
Your own sense will justify my words.
Athu Mar 2020
All the men in the world
One hot summer day,
Find that their mustaches have run
away.

The heavely bearded men wailed in nay,
The clean shaved men had a pecuilar stray,
For they, on the hot summer day, had grown hair,
Hair on their lip that made way
For their mustaches to run away.

The world had turned upside down.
What will all the mustachless men do?
What has caused the hair to run away?
With all man upon earth considers a wealth
None of it come what may can replace good health
He may hold for a time all that pleases his mind
But one moment of loving her Anothers greatest wealth

All words of religion and politics ever in time spoken
An entire life lived hearts full souls contently unbroken
A moment of nervana of superb heavely being ever so
Of Holding such perfection unexplained by poetry spoken

Am I was I so blessed for knowing all of beautiful songs sung
Of yet poetry to be written fate it to my soul of such it brings
Only thus two will ever feel all that words can never explain
Without any regrets that could be worthy of when a bird sings

terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Misty Meadows Oct 2018
I need some help out here,
Something better than this.
I ain't no sensitive kid
Unless they speak on my pancreas,
Then it is what it is.
I blow a malevolent kiss
Because the love I receive
Comes from a satanic abyss,
Full of the souls I've betrayed
In my past lively days.
I didn't pay much attention,
Now karma is who I must pay.
And to the higher above,
I must always go pray.
We have prayers for pain
And prayers for laughter.
Heavely Father, I'm a disaster.
After this wound,
There can be no more after.
Afterlife is unknown,
But I believe in the best.
But for people like me,
Only looking forward to death
Due to the instances pushed on
The mere flesh,
We will have no chance,
It's a one way ticket to flames.
But for this pain, I have great disdain.
Whisper my name when you visit
My tomb.
Understand you can
Never be gone too soon
When dirt and death and
All things below that bury your
Smile
Are meant for you.
Dissident Aug 30
In brief: scalpel words so cheap
Misanthropic cold compress
Jaded and hard in denial
Heavely Medicated without
Prescription

Mute Pain
Guilt soaked peace
Once more
At least
On this rock
I’ve built my church
And drunk of this poisoned cup
Enough

Salted sigh the spike
Do not resuscitate
For the bones of it
Are a pistol cool pressed
To a temple
Derelict  

Sleep without rest
Please, one more breath
Vein or scar
Blood loss
And the cost:
Everything
Posted originally Aug 2014
I have been sober as a church mouse now for almost a decade. If I can do it, you sure as hell can

— The End —