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Tommy Randell Nov 2014
Up steep streets
I repeat
In a dream
Words seen in windows
To myself

Turning right
And Northward
Left and Westwood
Checking number plates
For initial surprises
Numbers for primes

The number of years
By the number of days
Adding the leaps
The few left over

To arrive in the viewfinder
To stand on the edge
To look at the scene
To breathe with the light
To know finally that I am
The lens
Francie Lynch Jan 2017
When all alone,
Be oxymoronic;
Focus on all,
Not alone.
We're never alone.
A Mummers Funeral

Time slip't, a careless moment, words without thought or foment.
No smile, no glance, no touch, nor care
none of these things so fair,
was ever thought or brought to share.

I've gaps in my memory,
And holes in my shoes.
not enough time,
Too much *****.
Nothing left of strength and toil.
The grapes of wrath? That wasted soil!

But for the Ghosts of Things unsaid,..
Shadows host the Deeds Undone.
Bare walls and plank't floor,
cobwebs of nothing more.
A Home empty; a house.. a shack,
a time-worn agent my soul to wrack.
Shadows flitting through
cobwebs in the corners of my mind.

I've holes in My memory,
And Gaps in my Blues.
Too much time,
And Not enough *****.
Sleepz Dec 2013
Today my son told me he wanted to be like me when he grows up
so i slapped him across the face,
I told him you better get your **** straight son,
you try to be like me you're gon' end up a ***.
No one could be like me not even you,
I told the same thing to your ***** *** brother,
and as for your mother she be askin' me for money all the time,
i know im a rich *** guy but that don't mean i'd waste a dime for her,
Your uncle lied about the way she died i ****** stuffed her ***** *** in the
trunk of the mercedes and left her there for 10 days,
it was only supposed to be a week but then the next three  i thought
she could ressurect just like Jesus did,
Turned out she didn't cause i didn't hear no banging but than again i never checked,
Don't be a wreck like your ******' uncle Johnny who tried defending her and
they both ended up in a train on their way to San Francisco,
That's right why you think no ******' cops came you see what im saying,
i'm teaching you how to be tough and rough like your dad,
Don't be a little sissie like your little brother Stan who joined the ****
just so he would be a part of something,
Let me tell you something bout' your grandpa Ronnie he's always grumpy for nothing.
If you look at my eyes im a ****** son,
I think it's fun to wrap chains around people's necks and tie em' to the back
of the car,
i know sometimes i take it too far but that man at the gasoline station
thought he could take me down and make me look like a clown,
the sound of that just makes my nerves tingle and not a single person
has ever had the ***** to tell me some stupid **** like that,
so grabbed him like rat and hit his legs with the bat till' they break,
you need to know both our life's are at steak every turn we take,
There's no hesitating and don't you ever run away,
always pay attention to the people who got something to say,
I tell people that I missed you that day,
when you were gon' i couldn't say goodbye,
But thats what happens when Daddy's ****** working all the time,
All i could do is just sigh and know this is the end of the line,
I'm looking at you now but i can't see your face,
I guess it's pretty hard you'd have to have x-ray vision to see under a grave,
I shave now because i remember how you never liked how my beared looked on me,
Just thinking bout' your death makes me wanna scream,
and now i see myself in this ******' hospital now knowing why im here
or what i ever did wrong,
I'm writing you this song to tell you,
Never be like me cause sadly your daddy is never doing the right thing,
But take care say hi to god for me i hope this letter can get to heaven
so you can see it.
Be happy with your whole family up there cause their dead too with you,
i didn't want you to get lonely.
Now you feel at home and i'm just sitting here all alone.
This poem is inspired by a rap song from Eminem.  
It has it's own personal significance and some people may relate to it.
JayceeJellies Jun 2015
Alone again tonight?
Don't act so suprised.
It's kind of sad, right?
You can't sleep at night..
Just drink up the energy,
There's no need for synergy.
Alone you'll be fine,
Just stay away from knives.
What have I done?

A calamity has befallen me.

My heart lies impaled by a blade of my own design, beating in agony.

Across from me I see her, huddled over the blade, her hands crimson from its edge.

Her tears descend upon my heart like broken stars, burning into the flesh, down to its very core.

What have I done?

Amid her shrieks of pain, I speak words of remorse.

Amid her words of sorrow, I try to mend what has been broken.

But I have exhausted myself. I haven't the strength to lift my heart off of the blade.

In the midst of my struggle, I see a figure, one who I believe at first to be the Solitude, come to torment me with my failures.

But it does not speak.

Where the Solitude mocks me, the figure remains silent.

Where the Solitude glares harshly into my soul, the figure merely gazes.

It does not show its face, but it breeds a sense of familiarity.

A Spectre, in my own image.

With ease it lifts my heart from the blade, but with its touch the heart turns black.

It is devoid of any other hue, engulfing the cracks and scars that plagued its surface, it is unified by darkness.

It is beyond recognition.

The Spectre extends the beating void to me, in silent offering.

But I refuse.

I shall not allow myself to succumb to the cold absence it will bring.

I would rather endure, if only barely.

Yet, as I turn away, I see her. The one who once held my affection.

The one who tore down my fortress. The one who showed my future in her eyes. The one who left laughter and serenity in her wake.

With another.

Turning back, I take the creation of the Spectre, without hesitation.

As it takes its place, I hear the echoes of all the tender words she once spoke to me, yet they carry a harsh timbre.

I feel the fire of passion I once carried, yet it creates only ice.

I see the memories once cherished, but they have become pale and morbid.

"What is this feeling?" I ask the Spectre.

I cannot see its lips, but I know it smiles at the inquiry, before uttering a single word:

Tommy Randell Apr 2015
This is the house that ego built

This is the mind all callused and worn
Its ethical basis tattered and torn
That sits in the house that ego built

This is the heart exposed for your scorn
That believes it is right and can do no wrong
That governs the mind
That lives in the house that ego built

This is the lifeblood of laughter and fun
That flows through the flesh that clings to the bones
That cages the heart that governs the mind
That dreams in the house that ego built

This is the stomach ulcerated with guilt
That feeds on the justice of a knife ****** to the hilt
Into the innards of turmoil and bile
That brings queasy reality into a mind
That rots in the house that ego built

This is the skeleton of upright intent
Its bones a geometry and rosary of ailments
That scaffolds a life of sheer ****** mindedness
That never quite does what the mind intends
In this ruin of a house that ego built

This is the skin that keeps it all in
That brings order and calm to the chaos within
Though it wrinkles with age, transparent and worn
A castle of walls, a house not a home, that ego built

And these are the eyes unfocused and white
Their cataract curtains dimming the light
On the ghosts and the memories wandering inside
What's left of the house that ego built

Man becomes man, life becomes life
A notorious continuance without rest or respite
Bricks become clay, clay becomes dust
Where now is the house that ego built?

Where is the mind, where has it gone
The purpose and promise of which it was born
The ego that dreamed of a house to be built?

These thoughts are the dust of all that was willed.
Aislinn Miell Sep 2017
With the familiar blur of familiar frames -
Wearied, we wait discrete
Worried that we cannot breathe
for the wind is yet to take us away…
do you think much longer?

We blend in to the scene
like a sail in the overcast,
lingering in our subconscious -
striving, aching for the sting of summer to melt us in the sun…
when is it coming?

The frost bits our lips,
Fastening the deadly silence
A fascinating mind, hidden in fearsome chambers -
Collapsing with the dead leaves of our own trees…
How much longer?

We hesitate to bloom,
Blinded to our own beauty.
Another day, another season
Believing we are better by ourselves, the world is bitter…
Spring is shunned by the silence -

But we are fine;
The wind will take us away,
Summer’s sun will melt us,
The leaves will fall, and nature will bloom.
But we are more than we seem…
we breathe.
Watch the silent fire,
Watch me scorch my battered heart,
Ashes cannot burn.
Mary Gay Kearns Dec 2018
The Lonliness of that road
Leading to a point
Ending in finality
Finishing quite frank.

It is green and far to be seen
Closed equilateral triangle
Destination, deciduous
Leaf, never to regrow.

Love Mary **
I cough the cough I cough when I'm alone
And get down off the bus to walk up the hill and home

I use the cup I use when you're at work - Tommy's Coffee cup
But in rebellion of course I make tea without boiling the water up

We sit in silence your photograph and me
And I ask you in your absence what you'd like for tea

Your note says home for 5 but I know it will be 8
No rush then to make a start I've got all day to wait

That dog we were going to get maybe now is good?
That bestseller I had planned to write maybe now I should?

This sigh I sigh to sigh I want our lives to change
This life I live, it sometimes has these awkward days.
Rory Jun 14
I woke up today,  I looked in the mirror. I was all by myself.  Because I've got no one,  no one to call friend.
I'm all alone,  trapped inside of my head.

We all have times that we say goodbye, bring it all to an end.
But the strong will rise,  to comfort the weak and muffle their cries.

I stayed home today.  Tired of living my life as a lie.  Never again,  will I pretend,  and hide behind fake smiles again.

We all have times that we say goodbye, bring it all to an end.
But the strong will rise,  to comfort the weak and muffle their cries.

I know that there's nothing left in this world for someone like me. So,  I'll take this time to say I love you,  but *******,  and goodbye.
Tommy Randell Oct 2018
I grew up in the loneliness of one hundred streets
The more poems I wrote the more I'd get beat
The rare times were few but I wrote them down
Poetry as confession in a lonely town

I'm no Leonard Cohen, I am no Rod McKuen
And so far any talent remains unproven
But from those streets I have lived my Rhyme
A Journeyman Poet stride by stride

In the World streets have doubled now, in number and size
But I hope Poetry is no stranger in our lives
It's the 21st Century, let's put our Art on the breeze
Giving voice to the vow in our words there is Unity
My Town is about 240 streets now (2018) but back in the 1950's it was only just 100 (give or take a few). A small-minded small town on the North East Coast of England where being 'different' wasn't always a good thing to be... especially for a young lad who wrote poetry.
Glory Jul 2018
"I'm sorry"

"What for?" His whisper was too far to touch my skin. But I heard it.

"Melancholy is contagious,
latching on to vulnerable,
lovely hearts,
passing by.
And sometimes,
after a while,
on a frosty, lonely night,
just like this,
It's starts to itch a little"
Switching schools is like moving to a new town
You don’t see those people unless one of you reaches out
And they never do so you are left alone in that what it feels like a “new town”
You have no support and those people who said they would be there
But to no surprise they are not anywhere to be found
They are just a text message away and a thirty minute drive
But is it that much of a burden for you to say “Hi” or “How are you”
I guess it is to you
Our school colors were paper white and royal purple now the thought of it makes me the saddest blue
School break can turn into heartbreak especially when you don’t come back and nobody notices that you didn’t
I might not be there the first or last day of school not BY choice but for MY well being
You won’t ever text back or call to show effort acknowledging my existence now that’s YOUR choice and to that choice I will never understand
I just hope you know that choice YOU made let me spiral into a deep black endless hole
A hole that was always there like an annoying loose thread on your sweater
But I never thought I’d get caught in that deep dark endless hole
Who knew all you had to do was say “Hi” or “Hey” instead of giving me feelings that make me think you are pushing me away
Because you sure didn’t
Mollie Mar 27
I never used to believe in ghosts
until I visited the places we'd been together;
they crowded all around me.
Ghosts needn't be palpable
pockets of energy from
beyond the grave;
the ghosts of people you've lost
exist solely in your memories.
Neural projections of all of the things
you didn't say; all the people who didn't stay.
In the vast yellow sea
I awoke from a shallow slumber
At the horizon the golden sphere breaks the darkness
Colors of light hide the dotted sky
Alone, colors of light warm my shivering heart
CJ Feb 10
of unspoken sadness
hidden between each page

of loneliness
present after every line

full of desperation
only adding to the fire

of harsh insults
only repeated in each line

An unpublished book
only hidden among the
weak and innocent...
The only book, I would always read...
Kanishka Apr 28
A poet suffocates on lack of words,
A blank sheet and an empty soul.
For there is nothing more torturous,
Than when his muse renounces her role.
teatears Oct 3
two voices
sing like one

one song
but now it's done

i still can't

forget your voice


because your echo keeps filling up my hollow heart
Poetic T May 19
I would be but a lone piece of wood
               floating in an ocean of loneliness.

                           Never gathering on a shore.

But static in an ocean of
                          tides carrying me nowhere.

We may float, but drown slowly in our silence.
Indranys Jun 2018
Have you ever felt the sadness in your life....?
Have you ever felt the pain in your heart...?
Have you ever felt the lonliness without someone beside you..?
Have you ever felt the loss of someone you love..?
You want to see-
But you can't see...
Because there's darkness everywhere...
You want to hear-
But you can't hear...
Because there's darkness always singing in your day..
That's why this world has existed for you..
To train you -
How you can learn to be  strong and survive your life well..
When I fell sadness my favorite quotes is " life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass but it's about learning to dance in the rain" The God will always with you.
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