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Morgan Mercury Jul 2013
This has all just been a game
one you can't win,
but you're forced to play.

The game keeper has got your
beloved ones around his finger.
A king in a devil's costume.
He calls the shots and makes the moves.
And it can be 'game over' for them
with just a roll of the dice.

In a ring of fire,
that no water can put out,
I watch suicides all around me.
A jump from up high, a shot to the head,
a dive in the water never to be seen again.

In this game there is no survivors but
there is one victor.
He sits and waits for us to fall.
He sits and stays watching the heroes die.
Watch them fall like flies
into the never ending hole in the ground.

I'll be watching my own death tonight.
I'll be dead before the day is done.
I'll be running with the demons at sunrise.
I'll because a slave to his kingdom
because that's where they all go.
Deep though the hole centered on the ground.
Supernatural
Dean Winchester
karin naude Mar 2013
My Journey
once young i believed of a world made of ice-cream and chocolates
i believed in air castles
i dreamed of the tooth fairy
friends was best friend forever for life
long hair was important, weight unimportant
dad and mum was super heroes
the world was at my feet waiting to be conquered
volcano's erupted
wars came and went
people died and were born
poverty came and went
governments changed
i grew up, the chocolate and ice cream melted
i woke up in a sticky mess

what happened
i forget the most important ingredient of all
god my father, my keeper, my salvation and joy
as it all came crashing down and storms whirled he held my hand
even when i questioned my creator and accused him of doing a bad job
his love and dedication never wavered
thank heaven for that mercy

i've searched my life time for unmovable inner peace and joy
though i was a bad made when i could not find it
now i know
money cant buy
only god the father can lead you to it
only the father can restore my air castles, my world of ice-cream, chocolates, cappuccino and balloons
i left he tooth fairy behind
i was blessed with new better friends
and my super hero's was re employed :)
i am truly living my dream without the crowd, competitiveness, chaos and speed of modern life

the future awaits
my captain is at the helm
what more can a girl ask for
Let Me Go

Let me go I'm not a keeper
I feel your touch getting weaker
No more crying, no more weeper
Even when I'm sinking deeper

Let me go I'm not a holder
I feel your touch getting colder
No more leaning, no more shoulder
Every memory getting older
I had quite a few friends here who have disappeared. Ugh
Qweyku Jan 2017
Despair unrequited asked of me;

where do proverbs, poems...
such wisdom's go to die?


do they expire with the ink of thought
penning themselves out of imagination?
or, simply tire of expectation?

tell me
&
i would scourge
that unenlightened grave-site,
guillotine its immoral keeper,
&
decapitate him upon
a writer’s block!

show me
&
i will breach earths bowels
wrenching words from darkness' depths
with the light verse of celebration
&
a calligrapher’s paragraph of praise.

only then should i rest in piece
from wordy passion
scribed with its, novel pleasures

&
when spent, 
upon my epitaph do write;

'she was consumed,
birthing words to life'



© Qwey.ku
Melpomene Dec 2016
Find a way out as I trapped in this tomb,
Find a way out as it break through the womb.
There, the girl with a rose and her eyes close.

Find a way out in this unknown song,
Find a way out from what had been long.
There, the keeper answered cold and everything sold.

Find a way out as the tears fall,
Find a way out as the crack on the wall.
Here, I am suffuse with full of confuse.
Spenser Bennett Apr 2016
O' Miss Fortune, mother of joy
Daughter of Ol' Sorrow
Won't you be my savior?
Won't you call me your boy?

O' Miss Fortune, lover of happenstance
Murderer of Good Father Time
Would you come out to play?
Would you join with Decadence?

O' Mr. Misery, keeper of delights
Warrior of Love's Lost Heart
What could be your destiny?
What could you know of fair fights?

O' Mr. Misery, follower of my shadow
Burden of my shoulders
Won't you let me go home alone?
Won't you let me go?

O' Mother, O' Father
Please can't you see?
Fortune and Misery
Have made a mess of me.
Broadsky Feb 2018
I remember nights when I was so petrified, you'd sit outside the bathroom door for me as I'd shower. I remember nights you'd climb in my bed to soothe my sobs and stop my tears from wetting my pillow. I remember when you'd hold my hand and teach me to be confident with my shoulders back. I remember the nights of endless secret telling and shushes to keep quiet. I remember it all. Yet those sweet pea memories are slowly drifting away back to sea with the memory of who you used to be. I can't seem to get you to look me in the eyes anymore, I can't get you to hold me when I have an episode. I can't get you to spend time with me, your baby sister, and maybe its a big sister thing; growing tired of being your little sister's keeper. I dont know. But I know there are no more nights of secret telling, there are no more nights of being held while I cry. There are no more nights of you sitting outside the bathroom door for me. There are none.
When do you know to let go?
PC classic Apr 2016
I was chasing concrete that led to the bar.
2500 kilometres away my grandfather's ashes were becoming
one with the sea.
The moon was up in the wind.
The cool breeze caught us in a lovely way.
The people looked real and not just strangers of the
moment.
Even the evening lights blinked with a kind of contentment which made one feel like they were not completely
alone.
I was ten once again
with the cool drinks on the dinner table awaiting
"the store keeper is a good guy" you would say
You didn't prefer much company
but you liked us
even when we snored through your horror stories


Now
such gorgeous sadness sits between us tonight


love
lores
lost
lost
lingering


My eyes had seen you walk away before from the impossibility of
a chained living

If there is an untroubled heaven
I hope you
achieve that.
Hhe lived before, now and will always live, he is the creator and the keeper of the living, he is the king of kings, the ruler of rulers, he is the master peace, he is life, he is love, when everybody laughs at you, hurts you, abandon you, he stand by you, stand with you, sthreangthen you, when you think you had enough of this life, he is a powerdul,pure,righteous and faithful ''God'', even when you feel like letting go of this life, feel like you are on your own, he makes you feel that you are not alone, because he knows your problems, he knows your needs and above all he knows your happiness, his will can not be changed, undone and will never be shaken, he is kindnes, goodness and tanderness, his yoke reign for peace and comfort, when your afraid he will give you courage, when you fall he wiil lift you, when your lost he is your way, when you fail he will forgive you, when your broken he will mend you, he is the first and the last, the begining and the end, he is a living God, all you need to do is to believe and call his name '' FATHER'' he will provide
Swells Jul 2018
the bones were hard to give up,
they pushed out like daisies
caressed under the hounding
heart of a copper sun.
unbridled and undried they bore
zealous arrogance of themselves,
petals dripping ****** convictions
and vibrating like awful angels.

under cruel devices they tried to
soften my bones and mold thick skull
constructed of lackluster candles
on their last flame.
days passed like doctors and white nurses
examining old wires that pray tell
the routines, the stools, the teeth.
i am their Jesus, their Lazarus.

my hearse, my sheep keeper,
my pretty things,
i become the acrobat at the
finale, the last supper,
supplementing at the **** of my
recovery. i lay my skin down for all
of you to see:  here is my breast!
my toad belly!  my glass feet!
karin naude Apr 2013
please pick up. . . the phone rings
i'm trying to make a call to heaven
please god answer i need to speak to my mum please
i want to tell her all that has been happening
about my aching heart for love
the gnawing feeling that i am a failure
the hurt watching other people live the life i want
no gate keeper to my memories
silence on the other side of the line
god does not take direct calls
i have no one else to call
it was always mum
every action or drama that occurred she was the front row spectator
Connor Aug 2018
Pleasing each other in the perfect
black night
(wretched forest)

Hands gripped tight against your waist,
on my knees, the dirt below digs into my skin
which is okay
We can hardly be heard midst the lively pandemonium
surrounding our loveliness

Drop-down
like a Luciferean Prima Donna
in silk /
walk on flowers of both Hemispheres
telling me how much you adore me & you

As equals in our posture-possession
unable to stand straight/shrouded by holy creamy
doves closing-in
muffling our mutual shrieks (as to be private and without gathering too much a crowd)

O Autumn Calypso
keeper of the scales, of the riddle
& the promise simultaneous -
- I am your victim and your master, trafficking our fragility
into a glorious Unknown, shade & essence of leaves wavers in the quieting hour,
seduced - transfixed & ravished in a wondrous spectacle
with Enchanter's nightshade laurel endowed on high

****, close and
hot - unrehearsed arias told by tongues  -
while we seep further in a hallowed guise/harp misplaced -
excommunicated from the Stead we traversed
before on ideal grounds – too late to remember or
repent – dabbling in magic with our double identity - now one insoluble drapery of illuminations
being shepherded into a ferocious
intoxication of its own fluid magnificence – a Narcissus gazing back, decaying with vehemence
Michael Solc Jan 2013
Once, I was a dreamer.  
I would look into the dark sky above me,
and see an endless universe.  
It was full of mystery,
millions of stories and marvels.  
Now, I look into it and see nothing.  
Tiny pinpoints of light staring back at me.  
Wondering why I no longer ask for their stories.  
Blinking, expectant.  
And all I can do is stare back.  
I have no answer for them.  
Nothing that would not seem a lie.  
This is the end for me.  
The last of the starlight inside of me
has flickered and gone out.  
I’m left now with only the vast emptiness.  
No stories.  
No marvels, or wonders.  
Only the mystery.

Once, I was a dreamer.  
I searched for the truth in the stars,
the buried treasure of forgotten skies
and the rolling, grassy hills they watched over,
in some faraway land where man had not yet tread.  
I saw their secrets and held them tight behind my eyes,
as if they were my own.  
Knowing they were not.  
Knowing that they were no ones’ but the stars and the sky.  
But never believing that one day they would be taken back,
taken away from me.  
And now they have left me, the Keeper of nothing.  
Perhaps it was my own doing
that drove away those sacred lands and starry nights.  
Or perhaps I was selfish in thinking it was only I
that could look upon them as I did,
and see the wonders I saw.  
I lay here now,
beneath them.
Blind.

When once, I was a dreamer.
Shakytrumpet Dec 6
'Tis not the tender
Paper betwixt mine cheeks, 'tis
Mine hand that greets me

For fragile parchment
Hath been punctured by me, the
Derrière-keeper
Elegant **** jokes are fun
Marginalization diminishes the spirit
Eventually extinguishing it
Until it no longer exists

Whereas when we uplift someone we enhance the spirit and life

We create spiritual magic
Lift someone up today and help light the world

Each time we do darkness disappears just a bit
Light is always stronger than darkness

Be a keeper of the light and a light worker
melissa rose Jan 2018
I will stumble bravely through this pain
embrace its hand firmly and delve into my shame
I am the keeper of every single guilty thought
that taunts my identity and keeps me stuck
I am tormented by memories that consume my mind
This soul has begun purging, I will no longer be blind
My eyes have witnessed many hateful glares
I’ve held back tears of sadness because those closest did not care
They minimized the trauma I had to endure
but this child inside of me has become the cure
Through courage and wisdom my story will be told
And the life I was meant to lead will begin to unfold
1/19/18
Veronika May 2017
Hug
Hold me tight
Hold me like a gun you will not shoot
Just embrace being the keeper of fate
To have the power to end it all and thus end this momentary suffering
Hold me like a mother, countless of times comforting her child and letting her soft cotton top soak up the tears
Just take me and squeeze me so I don't feel
So that the only thing I'm aware of is your touch and my body is a log and my brain is a dock and the waves crash
The buzzing wind in my ears
The crackle of the bones
The wetness of the shore
I look up, lifting my head above water
Your eyes warm and blue-grey with seagulls
I'm your little baby
And your prey.
I had once been in a church to drink a beer
Behind the pastor seat
A risk I took with no fear
Ends me a back seat.

I wonder who reported me
For I was sure all doors were locked against me
I was sure the gate keeper didn't notice me
I guess the walls have eyes
Oh, maybe holy spirit really exist
But why did he have to show up then
I was in the same spot sweating in prayers
Crying rain seeking for a divine help
Nobody reported me then
Is this not a case of betrayal?

People, they just love being messengers of negativity
When I was sweeping the altar, dusting this same pastor seat nobody shouted my activities.

Wait a minute, what was I thinking
Why should I carry a sin in a bottle
Straight to a supposing holy temple.
Holy? Is a place I once caught cockroaches making out holy?
The venue where our tithes and offerings are being pocketed by the church hierarchy still holy?

Even as that, I don't suppose to join the crowd to pollute the Lord's place
Truly I deserve even behind the back seats, yes I deserve the shame.
Just using this poem to paraphrase how fate work, how our grace are not the same, people can be doing lots of bad things but the day you try it might be the day you will be exposed and prosecuted as a scapegoat.
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T­his poem is self translated version of my Hindi language poem titled "शिव लीला" published in pratilipi on (June. 2018) Can be read through the link ==>> https://bit.ly/2Z9Z57t
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His neck has entirely turned blue due to Kalkoot, This is just a Leela of Shiva
He has taken everyone's pain and sorrow for the betterment of the world

He is the keeper of all the three loka's and also called as Trilokinath
He hold the holy Ganga in his locks, but do not drinks a drop from it

He sits on the yellow Tiger skin mat and keeps meditating for years to come
He satiates hunger by Datura and Madaar and drinks Bhang to quench thirst

He has a marvellous third eye through which all the three lokas are visible
Sitting in the Mahayoga posture, He keeps on concentrating and meditating

Brahma and Vishnu also bows before him with respect and feels blessed
Such a beautiful holy Leela of Shiva.  Nothing else but Shiva's holy Leela

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Kalkoot(Line 1): A poison generated due to Samudra Manthan ( The Churning of the Ocean by Devtas[Gods] and Asuras[Demons] )
Leela(Line 1): "Divine Play" (Just a pastime)
Shiva(Line 1): A God (The Destroyer) in Hindu Mythology

Loka(Line 3): Three three different worlds/realms. Swargaloka, the land of gods; Mrityuloka, the middle kingdom of men; and Pataloka, home of the Asuras, the fallen gods, and demons.
Trilokinath(Line 3): The Lord of the Three world/realms.

Ganga (Line 4): The Holy river whose flow and speed is controlled by the locks (Jatas - The thick hair strands) of Lord Shiiva

Datura and Madaar (Line 6): Poisonous plants (Datura stramonium and Calotropis gigantean)
Bhang (Line 6): Poisonous plants (Cannabis Plant)
Mahayoga (Line 8): Also called as Mahamudra – The Great Gesture (a posture for meditating)
The World is not real its Maya. Its the Divine Play of God
This key to my heart
is meant to be
a cherished gift-
not one thought of
as a simple possession!
Within your hand-
I'll give you my only key
to open a lifetime
full of dreams
and mystery!
Are you ready to take
this key to my heart?
Are you willing to be
the keeper of my key?
If you accept this key-
all I'd ask of you,
is to hold it close to
your heart and
never let it go...

2008

COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
Kristaps Jan 27
Flaking lead, spit on green,
walls formed the small leaned
over bar
known as “Bulkling Beer”
(No pub at the end).
Migrant driven cars zoomed, rippled the window cage, but never stopped.

It dripped with desolate machine roars
and those were the customers.
The poor shop keeper, once in a while, slid in her knitted socks to the mechanical fiend and grabbed a gawkily warm ice cream cone
Sometimes when I rise out of the nebulosity of my ego, I can see  dead leaves on the ground.
Above I feel formless, Uncrippled by any  precursing contingencies.
Disturbances are nullified by the rising and falling of my breath.
I am no longer a keeper of anything.
I feel as I've been left to float inside a vacuum that requires the complete disassociation from anything that I have ever known.
Everything here is gentle, && welcomed.
vibrant and healing.
perplexing to those that aren't ready to let go, salvation for the many who are.
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