Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
jerelii Aug 2018
the sun that ache into my skin,
it beats the heat of the summer days
the sound of the crickets intrude,
birds are reaching up high,
clouds scatter across the blue sky
will feelings change?
will they?

i gather my attention,
to my introspective words
pulling the thread in my head,
as the train goes passing by
the clock move closer
to what matters
the most,
confiscates the time
that I stood by.
august 12,2018

thank you Jim Musics
for re-editing my works
I really appreciate your help :)
Kewayne Wadley Nov 2016
Dead in the center of her heart I found a minotaur.
Of all things a frigging minotaur.
I stood puzzled as we locked eyes.
When I stumbled upon him he was sleep with today's newspaper drenched across his lap.
He bounced up in full guard.
Me being me I asked him for simple directions.
Telling him that I thought I was lost.
I planned on seeing heart shapes maybe a butterfly or two.
A big bunny shape thing or two but you, just wow.
He grinned slightly and said yeah that's the first time I've heard that one.
One step further, I added.
I take it from the amount of drool on the side of your lip you've been sleep for quite a while.
Now I don't mean to intrude on your guarding the labyrinth thing but,
How about you let me *** a smoke and we'll talk about it at the nearest dinner.
After all who can be mad over breakfast
Tristan Brown Dec 2017
There they were
Just the two of them
Surronded by many
Yet in their own world
She laid her head on his shoulder
And he held her tight
Because he wanted her forever
She drifted into the happiest sleep of her life
He saw her and he just smiled
Because he knew
She was happy

Is it wrong to be happy for others
To smile when I see others happy
I saw them
I was happy for them
Maybe because I want to be happy

Is it wrong to want to be happy
I want to be so happy
I feel high
Because I'm so low
Hell seems like a high

Is it wrong to want to be happy
Even after everything I've done
Something in me wants to be happy
But I don't deserve it
So I deny myself the experience of happiness

Instead I intrude on others happiness
Because all I want in life
Is to know how happy feels
marvin m brato Nov 2018
Can not face the world sometimes,
lot of issues this life we tackle.
A maze to traverse, to overcome
Rotten system, rude people
intrude into our existence.
To survive, to prevail
A strong heart we need... to face the world!
Andrew Sep 2017
Your intrusion
Is conducive
To my city burning down
So I defend from inside my castle
Civilian hordes
Wield swords
And I've gotta flail
In my chain mail

My city walls have been manned
So use your battering ram
And intrude on me
Muscle into my muscles
And burrow into my bones
By disarming my mob
While catapults lob
Incendiary boulders
That protect me from
Temporary shoulders
That have exploited my nation before
Mining the resources from it's core
Avoid all the blasts
So we can clash
In the arena of my mind
Where steel strikes time
And my defenses
Defend me from my life
So intrude on me
And shatter my protections
And shatter my conceptions
So intrude on me
And break my perceptions
But be careful
Intrusions have reflections
Umi Mar 2018
Sleep, dearest creature of the night, you who adores the shining moon, I said to myself as the music began to echo through the room
A nyctophile blood ******* devil, gifted black demonic wings alike a bat when it flies, strengh beyond reason and a tongue full of sick lies,
Yet a ray of sun may be lethal to you, burning you away as if you were paper caught in a firestorm, an inferno of heat, vaporized at last,
Life force relies in blood, impurities of constant change I need since I have already passed away theoretically I am most likely already dead
A music box plays for me alone, transient melodies from the recurring memories of a brighter, vivid past, to which I am are unable to return to,
Ahh, phantoms, a nuisance of the mortal life I have escaped alike the shooting stars over a clear, living,traveling, dark blue night sky
Have I toiled well, hard or long to achieve heaven, yet have become stuck as the devils tool in a illusionary world with no end ?
Flowing water seals me away, I cannot cross when it rains, and need a polite, kind invitement to intrude and cause wicked bloodshed
Sleep, so I may can be innocent until the sun has sunken down to rest,
Slumber,  the world of dreams is free from weaknesses to purification,
With great magic, comes a devils recitation, engaging in a distant dream far beyond the grasp of my crimson, blood drenched hands,
Unable to advance,  shadows of those who have forgotten the fear of darkness spread and creep around, hidden in nights embrace
Empty consciousness I am attracted like a fluttering butterfly to the gentle reflected light by the full moon in its fullest sensation,
Raise this song of love and paint it in a moonlit night for me,
Dance with me, until we aren't part of this world any longer, dear,
Sounds melt into silence, structure forms within chains of destiny,
Even if tomorrow were never to come, I couldn't care less,
For now, just let me rest my eyes

~ Umi
Donall Dempsey Dec 2018

the objects
in his pocket

have lost
their identity

their significance
to anyone but him

a hairy comb
photo of an unknown

who can she be

a torn-in-two
train ticket

chewing gum
much masticated

yet put back
in his blazer's breast pocket

small change
a penny and a sixpence and

a button
from the cuff

no clue as to who
he had been

before the water claimed him
as its own

the disgust and fascination
of those

passersby who continue
to pass by

it such
a sunny day

for death to
intrude this way

the miscellany of objects
ownerless now

the waters of the Liffey
calm and unmoved
Today's a new.
Took a breath, stepped  outside and Ponder upon Paradise Avenue.
Most haven’t a clue.
Stuck between a hard place and a rock and bonded by that encrypted glue.
So don’t be rude.
Look the other way While I pursue.
Get in the way and even you will be tighten, fastened and *******. Intrigue or intrude?
Acting with passion taking my life wealth of metaphorical food.
I'm not in the mood.
I came to conclude.
The knowledge hidden will soon will be removed.
Over the covenant stove.
Hypnotize lives will be brewed.
Ether produced broth of truth I accrued.
So in this life of Manipulating strife.
Conflict of fundamental issues got me on strike.
Take a hike, better yet ride a bike.
My mind has been overlapping Triple stacking in the apparent. Trying to come up with my own Patton of satin.
I will Manifest anything that’s internally speaking in a Ridicule fashion.
I'm rapidly expanding and the abundance is over flowing.
Is it me, is it you, is it us, was it he who walked above the sea?
Yes best believe.
Antiquity relics through Allegory marriage.
Helps to see Beyond and above the perished.
Come to believe and you will achieve.
That’s the hidden recipe.
Let me get some likes and comments please. Anything to inspire one another  is always good for the soul and growth of mine And subconscious. So if you read this please give your time, a quick sec to leave a comment. Please and  thank you
Poetic T Aug 2018
What! the What!
               was that which I think
                              were syllables
perpetrating from the sewer
                 of their open commentary
on my life.

As though it was a live play.

                And they were the voice over
scrapping at my thoughts.
                                  Well if I were you!
When did I ask this magpie of gossip
to intrude on my daily reflections.
       But no you stain that window
               I want to stare outward too.

Mind your own business, I know yours
went bankrupt long ago..
           Never paying dues to what you paid out.
But never counting the cost of what
                          every word cost you.

Now its time to change that channel
                                      to white noise.
All the persistent vocals drowned out.
Now I can watch my life without commentary.
Others should watch themselves not others
             just because your is a repeat of a dull life.
aL Feb 20
Pained youthful angel, contemplated on vowing a trust to a mysterious soul,
The end of solemnity of her young and
untouched heart,
In seconds of being loved innocence quickly took her wings and forbids her to fly
Sensed some magical affection immediately but waited for true love to intrude and mortality now welcomes her to the world
And the kiss, so subtle it eases her pain, finally, a portrait for her blank canvas
Trelon Grant Dec 2018
Sometimes I feel,
As if I’m lost.
Perhaps — I could,
Live under innocent white and blue skies,
Adoring pink fescues and red saccharum,
tangerine sunsets that
careen lavender and ivory,
aroma candied
arousing the birds, but rather
I am
Mending memories within the black nimbuses
within my cerebrum
Attempting to occlude unhappiness
But with the zephyr
The castle walls drop
The crows intrude, and ignorance floods
I am drowning,
Grasping onto torched remnants of
A people that I once enjoyed,
Until their eyes were forced shut
from the stinging salts
and their words became
as venomous as mambas.
Remaining positive in a growing pessimistic world is pernicious for cognition.
Marshal Gebbie Dec 2018
Dreamers, my Darling, are Kings of the earth, lost as they are in the clouds,
Conjuring magic from out of the air, weaving  mystical spells through the shrouds.
Shrouds effervescent and writhing with life, mythical movements of mirth
Threaded throughout in intangible weave to render this fabric of Earth.

Dancing in lyrical splashes of waterfall, bubbling in sunshine on stone,
Moss covered igneous softest creation, emerald as crystals of Rome.
Where would thy tread in this vaporous creation, would thou intrude on the scene?
Bursting this bubble of magical splendour would render thee, Sir, as unclean.

Tip toeing through tulips so softly and tender, so sensitive there to the touch
For Dreamers are few viewing grandeur anew….
I remind you, dear Sir, of as much!

17 December 2018
aL Jan 8
The prisoner, he is losing his precious eyesight, and he is quite glad
For years now, never had the chance to intrude,
The world he never knew.
To him, nothing left to see other than his crummy cell.
In rhyme, he prays every night
He asks for guidance and asked for peace
On unpainted walls he sees his reflection, dull and disturbing feats
In his flesh, there's a certain feeling he won't figure.
He is empty, lacks the soul, the will to go out side. The prisoner is actually a freeman. The prisoner is me.
Unpainted walls, i see my reflection
My prison cell is a state of mind
Losing my sight is losing my appetite
Certain feeling on my flesh is numbness

I introduced my self to the world anonymously, i am glad now i can. Good night, January.

Sorry for typos, its me
Ben Tol Feb 13
Well.. Take: Two has fallen through,
Should they try for Take: Three? Or just let things be...
People say that the third times the charm, but is it worth the harm,
When the second crack of the whip made them lose their grip.

There's a heavy deposit of skeletons in their closet,
Without a shadow of doubt, once the dooors opened the demons will come flooding out,
No control of emotions, numerous times have they caused extreme commotions,
Surpressing their memories, has caused problems in a multitude of territories.

Each corner turned, has left them perturbed,
At the front of the race, constantly chased by disgrace,
Cannot evade the past, wearing a smile as a mask,
A negative mood is nigh on impossible to elude, when corrupted thoughts continuously intrude.

Reliant on a bottle to release their full throttle,
Narcotics are an escape, ingested to alter the view of their own mindscape,
An array of illicit highs, have been used to speed up or slow down time,
Multiple mental chokes, caused after ploom, after ploom of differing smokes.

The director has tried more than once to call cut, but that pathway was shut,
Family and friends shouting to not let the show end,
The final curtain was nearly drawn, but the show still goes on,
"You have to continue! Let the world know the talent that's in you!"
Anurag Mukherjee Oct 2018
Words are made of thoughts.
I wish they'd intrude. I am lonely,
unemployed with a nine to seven routine
of various activities.

A malignant trend courses through the head.
Broadcasting it outside in the realm of trust
where I am blank but set to go, it would have
the appearance of a finely ambient glass of chocolate milk.

Sometimes I'm asked why the relevance hinges on me.
If I had to say, it's because I keep getting vignettes, like something
out of a beggar's bowl, a wooden saltiness
that becomes increasingly less involved. And, like, everytime
I think about it, it's something similar to trying to walk
on John Carter's Mars; and all of this trivial, like, asinine
things can never match up to the draw, the pull of
whatever has been dropped, whatever has been shorn
unevenly like a badly eaten candy-bar. Or something.
I don't know why it has to be about me.
I don't, pull my weight, and recently I feel cold in the summer;
I have slept under a bedsheet since June.
That's not what this is about, or what I, want to project.

This isn't a prerogative, a jarring hiss of due-dates
incoming inevitably. I just ****. Which is not a surprise,
like organic web shooters is a surprise, or, thinking up
something like a dead polemic of a sewer draining
the sordid leftovers of a consciousness.
You hum your song day and night,
Intrude in my solace without fail,
Persistence to rival time forever.
You sap my will to fight,
One day I shall set sail,
But your time comes never!
There were 3 girls in a room
And I didn't want to intrude
So I was quiet, only said a few words

I had nothing of value
To say,
I asked "How bad were they"
'Bout the demons
A child raved about

And we said,
"Lady, please be careful"
And I think she heard my fear
But the child wrote
In the language of the stars
And Lady wrote in romance she was starved

She said,
Children, be careful
I've never seen that man before
She said
Children, don't trust them
You've never seen a war
But then
She said
To me
Is love a possibility
And either answer
Would be selfish, you see

I'll back away
I never know what to say
Can I pinpoint the moment?
What did I say?

I thought I was just the same,
Same stupid fool
Who broke a heart
Twice over just to be sure

You said she was your child
You joked we could be family
Reading her teary talk out loud
In a dark room
Didn't I warn you?

Were you listening when I told you I was blind?
Did you hear me when I said
You'd be better off leaving me behind?
Always want to hurt myself
When I'm not picking up the phone
I was crying that night
Because I told myself
Either way I'd be alone
And I'm sorry
I'm sorry that you'll regret this
And I'm sorry I know what happens next
For Cayla
poetryaccident Aug 2018
Seasons arrive to demonstrate
nothing lasts as it repeats
forever gone once again
castles made of sparkling sand
swept aside by the daily tides
a clockwork with devouring gears

comparable may be akin
the very best that one can hope
memory taunted by the fake
another face to take the role
lines delivered as if by rote
then the scene shifts again

a sure salve of wounded hearts
seeking span’s therapy
wounded by the same drug
once again relationships
fulfilling as they may be
promise more than time may bring

look to seasons with some hope
allowing sadness to intrude
knowing life will recoup
the bittersweet of seasons’ turns
colors found and then lost
the clockwork reaping while it sows.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180830.
The poem “Clockwork Reaping” is about the impact of time on relationships and other aspects of life.
Picking up the ounce and the nine
Leaving them elbows behind
I’m shaking bacon
I’m awaken, shift and shaping
all the time
Constantly looking behind
For the pigs all the time
Make a move,
Hot pursuit
Grab my boot and pop a few
gun shots multiple times
Fleeing the Scene of the crime
Cause I’m living out of my mind
That’s your constitution that you're saluting
I intrude before you pollute
Rapidly dropping like rain
Every one of them are the same
Eeny meeny miny moe
Pick one aim and let one go
Duck hunt
The name of the game
Zersrol Nov 2018
I am thankful for a friend.
I wonder if she is happy enough sometimes.
I hear sometimes a little shiver in her laugh.
I see her smile decrease when nothing progress.
I want her to know her pain has caught my eye.
I am not the best person ever
So I decide to help others before their mistakes.
I pretend that I am happy to put a smile on her face.
I feel like she needs a friend to fill the gap in her heart.
I touch her to let her know I’m here.
A little tap to bring her back from gloom.
I am appreciative for her being her.
I understand I should not intrude but
I say she derserves better than me leaving her to rot.
I dream about her being happy instead of me.
I try because I hope my dreams become reality for her I hope.
I can help or she can get help.
I am glad she will forever be part of my heart as time goes by.
This is a poem I made in art for thanksgiving and I made it about my friend who was right next to me bc she is one of the most important people in my life rn so I made it to make her happy. So I hope you enjoy this little poem about my beautiful and wonderful friend Zoella ❤️❤️❤️
Ghastly thoughts that intrude
Seizes my fleeting happiness
that I preclude

This precious life of mine will
stretch as far as the hands of
Time allows me to

Celebrate God's gift of life with

Each day is a new chance to be alive. What I mean is that you'll have a new chance to begin anew each day. Our lives may be taken away at any time,
but have no fear. Have faith in anything that makes you feel alive and happy.

— The End —