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athena Oct 2016
the five days was a constant battle
between all the things
that ever existed

your thoughts were strewed
and your legs were too skinny
your arms can be measured
by your thumb and pinky

that stream of verbal consciousness
uttered nothing but prayers
between the dusky hours

i lost a limb on the fifth day
that empty hallway with dimmed lights
and the realizations with frustrations
the machines stopped working

it was more than tropical storms
and depressions, more than
mayhem, it scares me more than
the turbulence hundred miles
above the ground

it was an inestimable amount
of tragedy and heartaches
you begged for him to live
and yet it wasn't given to you

i cannot be angry at God
he wants you back
all i can really do
is wait for you
and **still pray for you
sarah Dec 2014
i miss you in a "i have nearly lost a leg and an arm" sort of way. i am trying to deal with the damage, but pretending it's not there kind of way.
i am damaged and doing a lot of damage.
the only thing i can make sense of right now
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
Promises made by mortal man
Are rarely met by mortal hand
For though they strive to win your heart
Such passions land far from their start

They'll paint, so clear, a future bliss
And draw you in with blinding kiss
But just when you have bought the dream
Man finds pursuits more worthy to deem

Ambition, sport and other girls
Whose flattering words and smiles like pearls
Will tempt a fellow to leave his nest
And lie upon another's breast

'Tis pain so sharp you think you'll die
And tears aren't found enough to cry
A torture rack would be better friend
With all its tearing limb to limb

To have your innards disemboweled
Or face the fiercest lion's growl
Would be kinder punishment than this
From one who knew your ****** kiss

And yet within this darkest night
A hint of moonbeam's softest light
Might rise upon such blistered soul
And shine into its gaping hole

For romance still may spark a flame
And whisper to your heart by name
To woo you in your bleakest hour
With promises of healing power

Promises unlike the others you've known
Whose good intentions were quickly thrown
Away by the frailty of human flesh
When sin's entanglements did enmesh

No, this One's words are wholly sure
His heart and mind and will are pure
His faithfulness cannot be shaken
Nor His covenant love ever be taken

He chose you before He made the sun
And said to the Father, "I want that one!"
He searched you out through all your years
Through all your joys and pains and fears

And now He waits for you to grasp
That deepest pleasure lies in His clasp
That His own kiss brings highest delight
That His face is eye's sweetest sight

It's He alone Who can fill you up
And saturate your empty cup
When life has left you hollow and dry
And numb to further wish to try

When memories lie tarnished with stains
And not one worthy dream remains
He reaches in with perfect hope
That pulls you up like saving rope

And as He wipes tears from your eyes
He says to you: I am the Prize!
Take hold of Me and drink My love
Come sit with Me in realms above

For I have blessings prepared for you
That you've never imagined, but oh it's true
I long to give you all of Me
To draw you close and let you see

That in your pain you know Me best
That heart's rejection finds its rest
In this sweet fellowship of intimacy
Where you are made to look like Me

I'll give you love like you've not known
Enough to see your will o'erthrown
Enough to pour it out upon
That very one who did you wrong

For that one, too, knows thirst of soul
And needs My love to fill the hole
Which, though he's tried hard to ignore,
Pleads, "More and more and more and more!"

But if he never should respond
Still, that pure love will seal the bond
That ties you to My own heartbeat
For then you'll see My love complete

For though the world resists Me still
I love them fiercely and always will
I've known rejection like no other
From bride and kindred and friend and brother

And when you love through hate and scorn
A jewel within your heart is born
For then you glimpse My own heart's breaking
And learn My secrets of rarest taking

To rejoice in the face of bitter spite
Requires sure death but will invite
Your soul to dance in gardens of bliss
Where you will know My Lover's kiss

So come and dance with Me, make haste
There's no spare moment left to waste
Abundant life waits through this door
With thrills and pleasures evermore!
~~~
c Jan 13
I used to dance alone in my room
I’d spin the spun black under needle
And turn till my walls became one
I’d stretch my face in strain
And mimic pain in movement

I’d measure arms and hands to
The waver of the music
I cried in concaved chest and
Screamed in legs splitting air,
Laughed in fingers spreading wide
And collapsed to the beat’s final throe

I became a simulated symphony, and
So became each dance;
My afternoon secret
I’d forget words and
Mesh into mangled body melody

mmmmmm those hands droning guitar and
a distant voice
in verse,
drumming, drumming

My body curled around each syllable,
Both in question and answer

It was pain, yes
It was heartache
Yes, it was beautiful
But I soon realized
It was not mine

- c
Translating music into movement and interpreting the artist’s pain
melissa rose Feb 16
Feet firmly planted
upside down
hanging in the balance
as I stare at the ground

I open my mouth to speak
but century gothic font
vanishes into thin air
it’s ink blots taunting all of my wants

Stained lips puckered
kissing lost words goodbye
tears grieve the unexpressed
while sorrow remains trapped inside

My silenced voice
fuels their fire of lies
and I let the billowing smoke of judgment
choke me until I died
2/16/19
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2014
Everything in quotations marks and italics was written by TS Eliot.

eyes knowing glossy men,
sheer women, creatures,
not all artists, but artists,
always thus,
centrifugal, simple

from their core,
emanate, resonate,
expand the exterior
with interior precision sculpting

to the interior delve,
via brush or limb,
pen or music,
the exposition, the exploration,
the reconstruction of composing
one's self, creation and destruction
of your own myths

movement of arms and legs,
sparseness of simplicity
subsidiaries of centricity,
tributaries of complexity,
oriented to their locality

the simple purpose of inhalation,
to exhale, after transformation,
the calculus of thought into emotion:

"the tongues of flame are in-folded
into the crowned knot of fire and
the fire and rose are one"


the dancers hear the music:

"so deeply that it is not heard at all,
but you are the music
while the music lasts."


**”Quick now, here, now always –
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well"
"Immature poets borrow, mature poets steal." T.S. Eliot (1888 - 1965)

Inspired this evening by the Martha Graham Company, the words and wisdom of TS Eliot, from whom she took inspiration in her choreography of modern dance
The witches heart is made of straw,
witches' heart is no heart at all.


The witch ideal a nature's fend,
her heart desires the human end.


The vines contort limb,
Lycurgus' gape.
as a punishment for,
man's unholy ****.

'
'
'
'
"Earth was once covered in water."
* *-Xenophanes* *

We are destroying nature radically from every angle.
Alyssa Underwood May 2017
Promises made by mortal man
Are rarely met by mortal hand
For though they strive to win your heart
Such passions land far from their start

They'll paint, so clear, a future bliss
And draw you in with blinding kiss
But just when you have bought the dream
Man finds pursuits more worthy to deem

Ambition, sport and other girls
Whose flattering words and smiles like pearls
Will tempt a fellow to leave his nest
And lie upon another's breast

'Tis pain so sharp you think you'll die
And tears aren't found enough to cry
A torture rack would be better friend
With all its tearing limb to limb

To have your innards disemboweled
Or face the fiercest lion's growl
Would be kinder punishment than this
From one who knew your ****** kiss

And yet within this darkest night
A hint of moonbeam's softest light
Might rise upon such blistered soul
And shine into its gaping hole

For romance still may spark a flame
And whisper to your heart by name
To woo you in your bleakest hour
With promises of healing power

Promises unlike the others you've known
Whose good intentions were quickly thrown
Away by the frailty of human flesh
When sin's entanglements did enmesh

No, this One's words are wholly sure
His heart and mind and will are pure
His faithfulness cannot be shaken
Nor His covenant love ever be taken

He chose you before He made the sun
And said to the Father, "I want that one!"
He searched you out through all your years
Through all your joys and pains and fears

And now He waits for you to grasp
That deepest pleasure lies in His clasp
That His own kiss brings highest delight
That His face is eye's sweetest sight

It's He alone Who can fill you up
And saturate your empty cup
When life has left you hollow and dry
And numb to further wish to try

When memories lie tarnished with stains
And not one worthy dream remains
He reaches in with perfect hope
That pulls you up like saving rope

And as He wipes tears from your eyes
He says to you: I am the Prize!
Take hold of Me and drink My love
Come sit with Me in realms above

For I have blessings prepared for you
That you've never imagined, but oh it's true
I long to give you all of Me
To draw you close and let you see

That in your pain you know Me best
That heart's rejection finds its rest
In this sweet fellowship of intimacy
Where you are made to look like Me

I'll give you love like you've not known
Enough to see your will o'erthrown
Enough to pour it out upon
That very one who did you wrong

For that one, too, knows thirst of soul
And needs My love to fill the hole
Which, though he's tried hard to ignore,
Pleads, "More and more and more and more!"

But if he never should respond
Still, that pure love will seal the bond
That ties you to My own heartbeat
For then you'll see My love complete

For though the world resists Me still
I love them fiercely and always will
I've known rejection like no other
From bride and kindred and friend and brother

And when you love through hate and scorn
A jewel within your heart is born
For then you glimpse My own heart's breaking
And learn My secrets of rarest taking

To rejoice in the face of bitter spite
Requires sure death but will invite
Your soul to dance in gardens of bliss
Where you will know My Lover's kiss

So come and dance with Me, make haste
There's no spare moment left to waste
Abundant life waits through this door
With thrills and pleasures evermore!
Repost
Poetic T Feb 27
The lumber jack, was on his way
             home.
Driving through a woodland of
                                creaking trees.

They found his car, the rooftop
                                    crushed..
         gusts of wind blew through
                                     the tree tops...

And the coroner and police officer
                                shuddered
      as
           they gazed at each other..

Is it me or does the wind blowing
             through the leaves sound like

                                                 laughter..

And with that another branch fell
upon the already mangled wreckage..

             They had to make sure he was
                                  really felled,
                            there was no warning.

And as the breeze continued the noise
                turned to screams, whistling
                                                 around the pair..

Both cars where found later on
                                               the next afternoon..
                 hundreds of meters from each other with..

                                         Buckled rooftops..

Even there was no wind, the rustling leaves
                               sounded like far away laughter..
                                and the group just looked in confusion.
They where outnumbered and didn't even realise it.
Alysia Marie Apr 2015
The devils foot soldier;
That's what you turned to be.
The one I thought that I could trust;
Confuses my memory.
You water the flower to feed the roots;
Thus only to pluck the petals.
It reminds me of how strong you are;
Strong like crimson metal.

But that metal rusts, and the flower dies after you've shed them limb by limb.
Stripping them down to their naked cores;
And exposing their deadly sins.

We're all like flowers, but don't water the roots if you'll only pluck our petals.
It'll show the **** truth inside;
Like rusted crimson metal.

                                        Alysia Marie 2015 ©
King Panda Jun 2017
I stay awake—
gas,
ion and
tail.

your ghost strokes
my back, fingers
ski-jumping vertebrae
as my face steams into
powder.

your pith, soft and white:
our star in you—
rove to your low neckline in
fire humming comet.

space is blameless in
this limb of heartbreak.
Emmanuella Nov 2018
"I can’t figure it out.” She said.
“I like cigars,
and pretty dresses and crossing my legs.”
She paused,
then continued,
“And I like smoking cigars in pretty dresses while crossing my legs.”
She uncrossed them,
then crossed them again.
One smooth limb over the other.
Just like that.

“But I never seem to have a lighter on hand.
Could you— sir,
please light my cigar?”
“You see, I have no pockets to hold such things and my purse…
Well,
You’ve confiscated that, haven’t you?”

“Thanks.” She breathed,
and inhaled,
and exhaled;
Sluggish wisps of smoke dissipating into the air.
Just. like .that.

“I didn’t know L'homme was into women who smoke cigars in pretty dresses while crossing their legs", She said.
“I mean, how was I to know?
I only noticed him noticing me.
It was probably the way my hair was pinned up like so,
Or the way my lipstick was a deep, dangerous rogue,
Or the way I sipped my champagne…
That made him walk over.”

“But I never asked him to light my cigar
Or comment on my dress…
Or stroke my legs.
So when I whacked him up top over the head with my glass,
I bet he never expected it to shatter and split his skull like so.
He dropped so sudden, sir. I…”
Another ringlet of smoke, a sigh, an uncrossing and crossing of legs again.
“I had no clue,
what else to do,
But to sit still in my pretty dress, with my legs crossed, smoking my cigar trying to figure out...
Just how I'd committed ******.”
"She's a dangerous woman...
Who can ****,
Just with her *** appeal".
Wayward Jul 2018
I was born out of fur and cotton,
With eyes that were shiny, black buttons.
From the store rack, I always watched the distant tree.
But one fine day, this little girl picked me.

My owner handled me with great care.
I was, after all, her beloved teddy bear.
I seemed to be her biggest comfort,
When she couldn't sleep or she felt troubled.

Years passed by and so did my time.
The little girl didn't need her teddy when she cried.
As I lay with the other toys in the attic,
I realized that my short life was quite tragic.

"Mr. Cuddles! Your child's best friend!"
But who's going to care about me in the end?
I played my part. I stayed with you.
But in the end this is what it came to.

Mr. Cuddles, the lonely one.
Who lies in the attic with his fur undone.
The cotton keeps falling out of his limb,
The once happy bear now lays grim.

                                                    -Waywa­rd❤
I attempted personification for the first time. I kind of relate to this poem though. I feel like Mr. Cuddles. And that somehow is my greatest fear. I fear being unloved and forgotten. I hope I got the message delivered in the poem.
Lizzy Sep 2015
You say i scare you.
Yet you are the lion,
And i am the lamb.
You have power enough to save me;
Then rip my heart to shreds.

It will be hard for me to let you in,
Because i've met so many lions before.
And i'm tired of being the lamb,
Of seeing all my blood
Spilled all over the floor.

But i can still be held at fault,
For i'm the one who's spilled the most blood.
I've used my own like paint,
To color my life bright red.
I needed some proof i wasn't dead.

I've even killed some lions,
But not without cause.
They couldn't see how they were slowly killing me.
I had to get away before it was too late.
I've made my mistakes and stayed.

I trust that you won't burn me,
Won't tear me limb from limb.
Apparently, i'm the lion to you.
But I'm just a weak lamb,
Afraid to die at your hands.

If i never let you see
How fragile i really am,
Maybe you can't hurt me;
Maybe you'll think you're the lamb.
And i'll look stronger than i am.

I don't know if you've seen my scars,
The aftermath of war.
I hope to god they don't scare you,
I'm not fighting anymore.
At least not now.

It seems I've slipped some rhymes in,
I guess thats what you do to me.
Once again the words found me easy.
You've given me the color to paint my empty canvas,
I just hope it won't be red.
CK Baker Jan 2017
He filled his week bag
with quick picks
from the commissary
cover blades
and skull caps
canned goods
and half stated pearls
liquor bills
and bleeders
for the flight of weary

Into the ****** bunks
of the western front
past sivana
and nurture sage
past the pomp
and ceremony
out of robe
and into jumpers
and casings
and masks of gas

Light infantry
and yelling men
muscled
and scorned
fly boys high
in 3 wing flight
mounted gunners
filling the night
in hawkers and packards
and scabbard chape

Tarrant tabers
and camels
dodge the vicker gun
skeleton hands
grease the mill trap
carnage makers
mark the rhineland
(buried in bunkers
and pile bags
and earth pack)

Trench helmets
and metal backs
under machine fire
minefields burn
in muzzle and coil
deep in the shadows
and shrapnel
and spear
the razor wire
and dead cold
despair

Slouch hats
and burning rats
kerosene lamps
and droopers
the soldier stares down
the broken line
and limb
a ****** holds steady
(shelved at a distance)
on ripped pipe
and beam

It was an all in
end game
a grapple for the ages;
*** in the
fokker pursuit
over rolling hills
and fallen comrades
into the bishop bullet
(and sporadic cheer)
which sealed the deal
in an empty field
near the brae corbie road
jane taylor May 2016
the needle on record
catches a scratch
the music’s awry

happily writing a story
the inkwell
runs dry

interruption of
fairytale endings
where nobody dies

awaiting a biopsy
out on a limb
nowhere to hide

©2016janetaylor
a doctor thought i had cancer ~ turned out to be a misdiagnosis
athena Nov 2016
you were there on his last night
and was there on the night
we stumbled upon
an unfamiliar house
the creatures were making
a peculiar sound
it was the strange place we inhabited
for as long as we could be brave

you were with me when i lost a limb
you saw grief and tropical storms
right through the literary orb
you heard words come out
of my mouth, they were all
in past tense and shaky

the best four years a teenager could have
i have spent them with you
i gave you my trust, my blood
and our promises
you met the 3am version of myself
which i believed that is ours
only to keep

i could not fathom the grief
of losing a limb
nor the grief
of seeing our strange house
collapse right in front of me
but the concrete was made of trust

you contended that you were here
to extend succor, immediate aid
to a grieving soul, to your friend
you came in crowds extending
sympathy as how i've seen it
little did i know that succor
meant pulling the trigger

when the tectonic plates
and the seismic waves
bends the buildings
and crumbles to the ground

when the tropical storm
named after me
pull the tress from its roots
floods the households
and all the different routes

or when your 3am uncertainties
scare you, and you would howl
and howl and howl
but who will you run to?
Autumn Oct 2014
I stuck chickens in my baggy tie dye shirt
nuzzled on the couch, coffee in hand.
I enjoyed a deep conversation with a willow tree
and asked how it felt about the other species.
I slid cookies in the back pocket of my tattered jeans
before biking through the morning air.
I smiled at old Ted in the nursing home
with a wink, he smiled back.
I dribbled the basketball with the strong scent
of campfire coming from my backyard.
I danced in the shower
the warm droplets falling on my skin.
I smoked in the sparkling cove
with strangers that became my friends.
I flew off the high rocks
and submerged into cold crystal waters.
I looked into those faded blue eyes,
and chuckled cause' we do that.
I balanced on the fallen limb
and hopped up onto the beautiful stump.
I giggled with my sisters
cause' we made some really mean jokes.
I ate spaghetti with my friends,
and laughed so hard we choked.
I tumbled over tree roots
got back up and kept on trailin'.
I thanked God for this life
and he said you're welcome.
some things I like in random orders
Alysia Marie Aug 2018
I can’t prevent the rain from falling,
Oh no, I can’t prevent the storm-
But I’ll be here for you when you’re frightened,
And craving shelter from it all.

Even through a drizzle,
Or a mighty hurricane-
I’ll brace the weather whole heartedly,
If it means that you are safe.

For if the beast that’s brewing,
Is tearing down your forests limb by limb-
And the travesties he’s causing,
Are forcing you to walk with him-
I’ll take your hand so quickly,
And run with you so far away-
So this being can’t get hold of you,
And has to seek out other prey.

See darling your soul is mighty and pure,
Filled with comforts so serene-
And your mind is made up of fortresses,
Stronger than any part of me-
I’ll never give up if it means bringing you home,
To the comforts you once knew-
The safety of your own body and mind,
Every beautiful part of you.


                          Alysia Marie 2018 ©
And if he is to read this, I hope he never doubts all of the ways my soul loves him. Just as I always have, since we were children.
Erin Paolucci Nov 2018
While we were here watching and waiting
Brave soldiers were out there fighting
Fighting for our country
Fighting for the citizens
Fighting for their own lives
Every day there are people who give life and limb for the sake of others
Every day there are people who left everything behind to ensure that we have a good future in this country
Many days we forget who gave us the life that we have now
Many days we forget about the Army, the Marines, The Air Force, The Navy, The Coast Guard
Men and Women are out there fighting
While we are here watching and waiting
Jen Snow Jul 2018
So
Keenly
Aware

Like
A
Lost
Limb

Can’t
Be
Found

Asleep
Or
Awake

My
Eyes

Search
For
You

Every
Crowd

Every
Stranger

Every
Place

A
Familiar
Touch

Pressed
Against
These
Lips

Hearts
Trapped

Inside
Bone-e­ncased
Chests

Lonely
Souls

Come
Into
View

My
Love

I
Miss
You
For Matt
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