Jacob Traver Sep 2015
They -- fall
Slowing down sight
I draw closer and closer
Then --
Flutter to stay awake and realize I'm not ready for this
I'm not yet able to enter that dark place of meditation
-- But
I feel it coming more swiftly
My heavy eyes falling
With every
Last shutter
No -- yes
It sounds ridiculous but only I feel productive when I'm doing nothing.
Sitting back, just relaxing.
Popping blue beans, burning bowls of green.
And just thinking.
Daydreaming about how things could have been.
How things could still be.
But how things will probably be.
Just close your eyes and let music be your guide.

Entire lives constructed and played out
in grand fashion. A world so detailed
I would rather get lost,
And never come back to this travesty of a society,
so raw and primal.
so human.
My world is so beautiful and yet so depressing
because it's what ours could be, but never will become.
Anything to distract me from this.
The 24 year old burnout grinding through school because there aren't many options left.
So where will I'll be in 5 years?
I wont.
Warm water as the geyser
Gives the skin a new taste
After the sudden rain
The sun peeped behind the clouds
As if a fire peaks in the red flamboyant forest
Then purple flowers of Jarul's
Silently washing the suffering of long pain
Worship to God with drunk
Late afternoon in front of the house of crow
Cuckoo calls repeatedly,
Wings fluttering,
Not unnecessarily
She searches her left offspring
Alongside a small river (Kumar) flows
Small dazzling waves,
With a Cold gentle breeze
Flows over my sweet sweat
Ah! Another form of Heaven
Seduced far away from the darkness
Furious within a dream,
I bathe
@Musfiq us shaleheen
**** Late Spring********* The Nature as we feel.........

....if like please share your comments.....
You came in late, again
I said hello, pecked your cheek
and waited for the flow of excuses.
None came.
You went and poured a drink
I sat awaiting your words.
You came back in, sat heavily down
and looked at the floor.
I felt rage inside my breast,I had news to tell.
You never asked how I was, or how my day went.
I sat quietly waiting, listening to the ice chink the glass,
I felt as vulnerable as that ice cube, once solid now melting,
waiting, fuming, controlling my anger.
You looked up, you looked at me, no through me, and said
"I'm late because I've been having an affair"
Did a freight train just hit me? I felt despair, but you said more,
"She's pregnant, and is keeping the child"
Clarity liberated me from my stupor, late nights,
meetings, high mileage on the car.
I asked a question,
"Are you leaving me?"
You dropped your head, and said the words most wives dread
"Yes, I have to be a father, do the right thing, I love you but....."
Your words trailed off.
I stood up, took your glass and refilled it for you.
My turn.
"Did you start coming home late because of her? Or because I've gained weight? Or both those reasons?"
"Pack your bags, leave the keys, get a hotel bed"
Those words came out so clear, you'd swear I'd knifed you.
At the front door, you turned, about to say something, I cut you off
"Send me your new address, I need it for the solicitor,
I'm divorcing you. And by the way, before I forget, you're not the only
one that's been late, it would seem you know how to propagate"
I shut the door, rubbed my tummy, and waited to be called mummy.
Nicole Mann Apr 2014
I've done bad,
Haven't we all?

At first it's a good idea,
But then it starts to fall.

You realise your mistake
But it's already too late.

Mariah Langton May 2015
Late, late, late.
Late work, late period, late date.
Nothing good comes out of being late.
Late, late, late
Dread fills you stomach, tears fill your eyes,
You just can't believe you messed up by being late
Late, late, late
You want to fix it, but can't
Nothing can undo time, you're stuck being late
Late, late, late
Nothing good comes out of being late
Natalie Neo Nov 2014
When I finally admit
The existence of this pain which
Has been here since
God knows when,

I feel liberated.

I guess it was never being
Guilty of hurting you.

It was that
When I hurt you
I was hurting myself too.

It was suicide.
Meg Howell Jan 2015
Late night thoughts
                       turn into
                    ­                 honesty
      everything I'm afraid of
Francis Duggan Aug 2010
The sky is dark the countryside is quiet
But the spur winged plovers cry out in the night
Above their territory they call and fly
Perhaps the hunting fox is prowling by.

The possums hiss on gum tree in the park
And in a yard nearby a terrier bark
At wailing tom cats fighting on the street
For the right to mate with a female in heat.

The night is calm there's scarce a puff of breeze
And boobook owl hunting for small birds in the cypress trees
Repeat the same call over and again
And frogs are croaking in the pond and drain.

The countryside may seem quiet after dark
But in the sky above the nearby park
The spur winged plovers cry out in the night
Perhaps a fox has driven them to flight.
It's a still morning, quiet and cloudy
the kind of grey day I like best;
they'll be here soon, the little kids first,
creeping up to try and frighten me,
then the tall young men, the slim boy
with the marvellous smile, the dark girl
subtle and secret; and the others,
the parents, my children, my friends —
and I think: these truly are my weather
my grey mornings and my rain at night,
my sparkling afternoons and my birdcall at daylight;
they are my game of hide and seek, my song
that flies from a high window. They are
my dragonflies dancing on silver water.
Without them I cannot move forward, I am
a broken signpost, a train fetched up on
a small siding, a dry voice buzzing in the ears;
for they are also my blunders
and my forgiveness for blundering,
my road to the stars and my seagrass chair
in the sun. They fly where I cannot follow
and I — I am their branch, their tree.
My song is of the generations, it echoes
the old dialogue of the years; it is the tribal
chorus that no one may sing alone.
Helen Dec 2014
I feel so lonely
No one to trust
Turn to.
Supposed to be friends are more worried about themselves and can't notice what I'm doing.
I'm hiding
Hurting emotionally
to the point where I've gone
numb inside.
The only times I remember I have feelings is
when the flood of emotions comes rushing out
leaves me
and panting for air.
Arcassin B May 2014
By Arcassin B

I cant believe,
the last time there was ever love for me,
put me in the position of a lonley person,
Dont be late,

i cant believe,
she would believe them over me,
eventhough i didnt see it as something being worth it,
its too late.
Next page