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kristina Dec 2015
On the first day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
a heart still barely breathing.

On the second day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.

On the third day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
a chill in the air
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.

On the fourth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
all this does is hurt
a chill in the air
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.

On the fifth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
a touch that still stings
all this does is hurt
a chill in the air
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.

On the sixth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
leering lullabies
a touch that still stings
all this does is hurt
a chill in the air
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.

On the seventh day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
scattered, insane
leering lullabies
a touch that still stings
all this does is hurt
a chill in the air
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.

On the eighth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
bullets in my brain
scattered, insane
leering lullabies
a touch that still stings
all this does is hurt
a chill in the air
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.

On the ninth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
coffin to lie in
bullets in my brain
scattered, insane
leering lullabies
a touch that still stings
all this does is hurt
a chill in the air
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.

On the tenth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
lies that I drown in
coffin to lie in
bullets in my brain
scattered, insane
leering lullabies
a touch that still stings
all this does is hurt
a chill in the air
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.

On the eleventh day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
ears that keep ringing
lies that I drown in
coffin to lie in
bullets in my brain
scattered, insane
leering lullabies
a touch that still stings
all this does is hurt
a chill in the air
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.

On the twelfth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
tears that won’t stop spilling
ears that keep ringing
lies that I drown in
coffin to lie in
bullets in my brain
scattered, insane
leering lullabies
a touch that still stings
all this does is hurt
a chill in the air
broken, bleeding parts
and a heart still barely breathing.
Happy holidays.
R Oct 2015
Your smile is the moon
It brightens even the darkest of times
Your laughter is a wind chime on a windy day
Loud and cheerful
Your hugs are blankets
Warm and comforting
Your voice is a soft breeze
Singing me goodnight lullabies

Soon, Your smile is a blank canvas
Your laughter is a small wave
Your hugs are cold
Your voice is a loud unbearable e song
And I sing you goodbye lullabies
as your breath becomes chimney smoke
Jade Melrose Jun 2014
I know this is hard to bear,
but trust me,
I care.
Gone were the days of happiness and joy,
the innocence and toys.
Oh darling,
don’t cry.
I’ll sing you lies,
like lullabies.

For me,
you must survive,
into the ocean you’ll dive.
With other children you’ll play,
I hope you’ll live to that day.
Oh darling,
don’t cry.
I’ll sing you lies,
like lullabies.

I promise,
I’ll protect you day by day,
no harm will ever go your way.
But if I ever have to go,
Please know I love you so.
Oh darling,
don’t cry.
I’ll sing you lies,
like lullabies.
Written for an English assessment for our unit on the Holocaust.
Bianca Reyes Jan 2016
I can't understand how everyone sees
Clear blue skies at which they wish to gaze
Under its trance and relax wasting the day
I can only see sapphire skies seducing
The clouds to willingly depart the day
And I need to rush to get up and run
To love and to conquer and live
So that I may come back and sing for all
A few lullabies to console your longing
For the hopes and dreams that you couldn't
Follow while you were staring at the sky

I refuse to lay around with all the rest
Viewing serene blue skies and conjuring up
Endless dreams and make believes
Because all I see are sapphire skies
Burning the time in a day with intensity
Melting away my dreams simultaneously
I must rush out into the world and experience
And accomplish the aspirations I had
Then I can return and sing lullabies
About all the beautiful things I remember
So that you can end your sobs
When you think of all the time you wasted

You see blue skies and day dream
I see sapphire skies and act and react
My lullabies will speak of the journey
The destination and the reward
Your state of dreaming will be
Manipulated by your remorse
Written and shared on Hello Poetry on January 12, 2016 Bianca Reyes©
Robin Lemmen Jul 2018
There is art
In your heart
Painting pictures
When I lay
My head down on your chest

There are songs in your eyes
Singing lullabies
When you hover
Pin me down
With your stare

There is a poem
On the tip
Of your tongue
I taste it
When I kiss you

You are tortured
Stereotyped
My jaded lover
I hear it
When you won't talk
Aarushi Vijay Sep 2017
My hands reached out to them,
Always pleading,
My heart cried, all for them,
Always bleeding.
But my eyes were shut,
They couldn’t see that
it was me who was hurt.
Hurt, deeper than I thought I ever could be,
But there was no one, ever for me.
People came in and went by,
And I sat there singing lullabies.

Lullabies, telling the tales of
Friendships turned into hatred,
Of loves lost to the fated.
Tears shedding, as my cry deceases,
I put myself back into pieces.
Days went by since I last saw the sun,
But the love for them was never really undone.
Today, when I sit here beside the sunrise,
I see myself in the skies.
Leaning onto the window,
I sing some lullabies,
And this time, they are of
New love found and the beautiful sunshine.
Cné Oct 2017
The surf provides lullabies
as ocean echoes roll.
Too soon, the sunlight glitters
as the dawn turns gray to gold.

I wake and I rub my eyes
beside the sandy beach
My love beside me, languid lips
within an easy reach.

I whisper, sweet good mornings
as your dreams I brush away.
You stretch and yawn, responding to
requests to "come and play".

Lingered memories caress,
of last night's rising moon
with silver waves and ripples,
beyond the dark lagoon.

In shades of colors that mix and smudge
you take your time, no rush
My ******* tingle, at the thought
upon my skin, spreads flush.

In reverie, flutters reminisce,
your wanton body on mine.
Whispered moans in my ear, you ******,
"I'm yours", I hear on rewind.
When last night's... turns into this morning's
Madame Eleanor Aug 2014
Melancholy lullabies.
New expression in your eyes.
Sad and lonely,
Soft and lovely-
Somehow at the same time.

Comforting as acid rain,
You can see me feel your pain.
Hush now love, put those away.
Find your strength it's here to stay.

Melancholy lullabies.
Now you cut off all your ties.
Skipping meals like they were stones.
Hearing madness in your tone.

Finding hope in new-found ways.
Smiling while you feel the pain.
Words so soft you cannot hear.
Chin up darling, I am here.
This probably isn't near done, I'll add to it when inspiration strikes.
Cné Sep 2017
Let me mold my body along your curves; trickle yourself into my entire being

Vulnerable, ****, my heart exposed, palpably we connect across the starry sky; you ... within me

I want your intimacy to linger along the edges of my lips hours after you've gone

I ache to be consumed by your eyes, intense with emotions, long after the dawn

Take me to your intimate chambers where hearts race; the rhythm of our silhouettes melded on satin sheets

Leisurely feel your way; a slow descend along the avenue of my rhythmic swell; forgive me of my quivering wanton needs

Allow me to graze at the gates of your femininity, drinking the honey from your pink walls; to feel your crowning point between my lips

How can I resist those wandering lips that stirs the curtains of my garden alcove; perfectly painted in honey dew, I throb for the touch of your kiss

Drape your thighs upon my shoulders; let the waves of satisfaction cascade up your spine

I beg to be released, dear God, of this intoxicating spell; I submit myself, heart laid bare; oceans of emotions no longer can I hide.

Find your eyes locking with mine; my torso parallels yours, my body pressed to you; equal in ferocity and tenderness

Mesmerize by your burning eyes in our melting flesh, so strong your hold; yet so tender your caress

Utter our names in fiery moans both whispered and screamed in heated breaths on our solitary night

Vile obscenities float out on heated breath, as cool air kiss our molded skin on the evening our time takes flight

Take me to your heart & cast away the flesh; allow our souls to weave in the throes of passion as our bodies mix into one; slow-motion ecstasy

A longing deep inside, the locked chambers of my soul to exotic places beyond our imaginationsyou sneak into my heart to fulfill my every fantasy 

Feed me the lullabies you paint on your canvas; orgiastic symphony we conduct in cascading tides; trembles throughout our bodies when our fluids mix

Let me paint upon your heart a ballet of our duet; the crescendo palette of my tide drown you in the spirit of our lyrics

Your ripe fruit quivers tenderly while our union completes; take my hands and let me be yours

Hold my sated body that tremors from the wake; a union of our souls ensnare a bond secure
~
A Collaboration with Jack Jenkins.
https://hellopoetry.com/jack-jenkins/
Ominous Dec 2013
I’ll start eating
lullabies for all meals
so I am sure I’ll be
thin enough to
fit in your dreams
every night.
Shofi Ahmed Apr 2017
At times I heard the songs of the giants
who opted to sing for a glass of wine!

Like Omar Khayyam would sing to the grove of vine,
while singing their lullabies they wouldn’t mind,
defying the bloomer stars in the moonlights
gladly treading on the black alleys of the night.
Didn't they budge, didn't they bend to pick up  
a potion of the sea, billowing in the dark?
But they opted out, just for a glass of wine!

To paint a glimpse of that gorgeous Saqi
till now they shun, lending the sun a paintbrush,
‘cause "if only it was colourful enough,” yet the sun
paints the enduring shades of the blue yonder.
But they turned around—just for a glass of wine!

The moon hanging low over the ocean took a pause.
The earth weighed down so deep is brimful!
Every sunrise paints new, loves to shine on once more
That delved-deep earth vintage taste, cooled in age-old,  
now close by the hands breathe in, full of warm south.
Yet they opted out—just for a glass of wine!

Even the time is speechless, ask me not but why.
Still keeps an ear bent on the wall of the leaning sky.  
Nor those who pop out with an inside scoop are ever drunk.
Nor they leak out, it’s a sea off the sea or Abe-Hayath.
It ain’t that small, it is the deathless spring of elixir!
aviisevil Apr 2014
bite into my soul and taste your dirt,
inflict upon me your rules of hurt.

make a wish in the fountain of blood,
take a sip and you shall conquer the world.



hang me for all the world to see,
even in my death i shall walk free.




show me the strength of your crown,
let me be chased by your blood hounds.

cut me and scar me, tell me what have you found ?
for you walk straight but the world's 'round.




lock me in a cage so i cannot leave,
even in these walls i shall walk free.




burn my skin to reach my soul,
why break walls when i've opened the door ?

come inside, take away all i know,
feed my hatred by hating me some more.




erase me so i could never be,
even in my extinction i shall walk free.




tie my hands and give me a blade,
tell me who my enemies are and war shall be made.

whisper to me the words that degrade,
and i'll scream them at the world as i fade.



**** the lullabies so i can never dream,
even in my nightmares i shall walk free.






now take my hand and lead me to paradise,
fire of hell blowing through the kingdom of ice.


sit on your throne and try to swallow your pride,
for this slave will never be yours,
he's the master of his own life.




hang me for all the world to see,
even in my death i shall walk free.
Notes (optional)
Idiosyncrasy Jul 2015
I wish I know
The lullabies
That sing you to sleep.

Then, I'll sing them to you
Hoping it'll bring peace
In this crazy world.

But I do not know
And I cannot sing
So I'll make a wish.

I wish I could be
Even just one of the lullabies
You've always loved.
At least you loved me.
Justin Wright Aug 2013
I know about lying on broken bones, beading into my back.
She was missing something.
She was lying on hands searching through the trench coat of a bathroom romance, watching butterflies melt,
She was becoming herself
At four thirty am I write her account, embroidered in a diary of lullabies,
“this is what death must feel like, being  left alone in a street screaming of footsteps and blacked out whispering.”
She threw deliverance, caked over old vengeance, out of the car window with daybreak’s kisses. She writes,
“I sit in the heavy sleet of the delta drowning in resurrection, grime from age wipes over me once,
twice,
The broken blood pools out of ‘I love you’s’ and islets.”
She slept with the darkness.
“Prayers don’t come for me anymore.”
She glitters, shivers, tactless as a teacup in an earthquake,
She is awake.
”I am awake.”
She documents God- "I feel God,"
- in herself. "In myself.”
There is a silence.
A burning, left, cold to dry alone,

This is for her.
Call it, my face, swathed in the impenetrable darkness when it is no longer my own, call it an aunt’s love when a mother’s doesn’t suffice any longer. Call it,
cigarette buds and elevator rides to death’s door. Call it power bubbling up from the violation.
This is for you; call it Cuban cigars, show tunes, and Marylyn Monroe;
call it misery. Missing, call it hues and paint, my life prostrated on a disgruntled canvas. Call it fate.

This is for you.
Call it liquor stains and tarot cards in a fit of ecstasy. Epilepsy, call it the most intricate balancing act of existence.
An unseen performance, a lyric with no voice,
“a cry in the night”
”a scream of supplication”
The hunters’ march to death, the Holy Grail’s melting between your fingers, civilization pouring through veins,
“death, destruction, life, happiness, Azrael, Abbadon, blood, Rome!”
“I don’t want to feel this!”
Call it whispers of unspoken meetings and witches in the night, threatening,
“I know you!”
“No you don’t! Leave me alone.” Recognition. “I don’t want to listen…”
She writes,
“I loved you…
On purpose and…you left me,
with,
myself.”
Hank Van Well Jr Oct 2014
Lorelei  ( lullabies )

The midnight hour casts a spell
Blinded by the darkness
Alone
The chaotic river toys with our soul
The distant stars provide little navigation to close proximity on this moonless night
Until the lullabies
Alluring , calming , invigorating
Like the strings of a violin piercing through the rustling whitecaps
Crooning along with the orchestra.
A direction amidst the despair
Still lost
Obstinate , to the comforting voice of the lullabies
Slowly drifting toward her
The wren lay sleeping , but the song  still echoes
The lost heart seeking refuge amidst the aria
The sweet singing  I hearing
The only senses felt ,
in the tragic abyss ,
that is blissful
The stars watch in fear
conscious fights in vain
To save you
As the stone hearted Lorelei
Continues to draw you to her
With her midnight lullabies
The wren lay sleeping
And the siren sings
Soon you will be trapped inside and eternal slumber
As your soul lay shattered at the base of the Rhine
Lured by the lullabies
Broken apart
Into the heart of the Lorelei ..
jls Nov 2014
They come in waves.
Kamikaze planes or
lovely flowers and sweet lullabies.
Blood boils,
slapping against my skin,
Sometimes.
My love is seasonal,
It won't stay.
Don't expect anything from me.
You will be bitterly disappointed.
I've been super bipolar lately. I'm sorry to all of my friends.


What an "ANGELUS" time it is
These times of LOVE

The "SALATS" of the moment
embraces everything around us

Is it the "FAJR" of birds kissing?
Is it the "ASR" of cats stretching?
Is it the "MAGHRIB" of peacocks screams?

Those are the sound of LOVE I suppose

I can see on the cheeks
The wetness of the kiss
That has not dried yet

Who is the LOVE
(BELOVEDz /  LOVERz) who causes
The tears swell in the eyes
Of the one who LOVES?

Why is the eagerness to touch
The bare shoulders so enticing?

Why the heart longs to
drown into LOVE
(BELOVEDz / LOVERz) core?

Placing one's face on the lap
The flower smells jasmine rains

Close eyes and experience my LOVE
When I seal your pores with my lips?

Can I sing you lullabies
When you sleep besides me peacefully?

Can I snap a new art sculpture
Out of your hair every morning?

Forget your thoughts
While feeling my LOVE
By being in LOVE with me

Why the words become worthless
When we share
A common breathing between our lips?

Who is listening to the music
Of our heart-beats?

Why do roses rain over us
When we share our chromosomes?

Who are they?
There, below the waterfalls
Behind the mountain caves
The two magical unicorns in LOVE?

Who will pray "TEFILLAH"
When we are in
Ultimate union of LOVE?

Who will "TENEBRAE" our lives
To illuminate our souls?

So that we "THEOPHANY" the
LOVE deity of ONENESS

Now tell me...

Will the clouds answer our LOVE-call?
Will the first ray of sun ever find us?
Will the moon ever illuminate dark lives?
Will the stars sparkle over our springs?
Will the dew drop give birth to seedlings?

To save the cosmos & planet EARTH
Let us embrace into
Single semantic of LOVE


Mrs Robota Jan 2017
Have you known? Awhile

In coffee shops I sit for hours
Trying to compose a symphony  
As eloquent as the words on the pages of the novels I’ve read
But nothing comes
Sweet Lullabies - I hear
Black Swans
Float away

I’ve seen the way the light hit the maple
Small delicate bites across the table
I’ve been waiting for summer days like this
Hoping to be inspired
But nothing comes
Sweet Lullabies - I hear
Black Swans
Float away

She smiled at me
I smiled back
The words echoed through
A slap to the face and I woke up
Sweet Lullabies - I hear
Black Swans
Float away


So underneath a chandelier of forgotten hours is where I’ll be
Surrounded by open windows staring through me
Dancing on a cloud of thorns and bleeding ashes on my tattered pink dress
Wondering “Does it make a difference?”
After all, I was promised your undivided attention
As soon as you walked through those doors and took your seat
The lights dimmed, the curtains rose
I came out, ready
Yet my movements were ignored
My voice forgotten
My masterpiece shattered;
Sweet Lullabies - I hear
Black Swans
Float away
Anakaren Davila Jul 2018
I always wondered
who taught you how to love
was it the fierce full moon
while it lighted you through a blackout night?
or the night owl
who sweetly sang you lullabies?


it wasn't until I had you
At the darkest hour of the night
Howling under the moon
And saw your hazel eyes
So vulnerable, yet fearless
That I knew
it was the wild wolves
who gently taught you how to love
skyler May 2017
lullabies laced with lies
i sang them everyday
convincing you and everyone else
but i let the truth decay
said i no longer cared
and at the moment i really didn't
but deep down inside
i knew i couldn't believe it
because at the end of the day
i really did care
but i knew it would hurt you
and it was a truth i didn't want to bear
i wanted to push it away
and appear the perfect person
but after so many mistakes
it's about time i learn my lesson

s.s
Third Eye Candy Jan 2013
[From Fragments,  The Following...]

... so it was that the Urth bled less. The Birch Moot was becalmed by the Anvil Cloud of Impending Deluge.
The Young Gods made sport of Their Names, and aimed to Oblique the colony of clever flesh
groping at the tender roots of an insipid devastation. The First Ones had vanished.
But Time was born and the Mortal Whirl released the Hounds of Change. Transition fused -
with the Eternal; and the offspring of unloved Spirits, roamed the Tangible. All Suffering was amplified
in the diamond lungs of a divine corpse, dreaming.


... for when the iron heart of The Cast Out was retrieved, the Legion of Heaven poured unseemly Grace upon the Fathoms
and the High King of Doubt, forced his blade ' Nimue '
into the soft palette, of the First Mouth.  The Stars were born and The Void overheard the First Naming.
A solid drizzle of enchantment cloaked the oaken Yggdrasil
and The Pattern unleashed the folly of Pattern
to mask the virtue of succinct Chaos. The Children of The Lower Sky ate their Masters and thereby swollen -
gathered in the underbrush of the Fecund.
They came to Know Regret by Answering Prayers. The Kingdoms of Wane were waning in the fearsome riot of Creation
and not a boy, a man from no woman
and no woman
a man.


... the siege lights of the petty stars, babbled in the wake of yawning eruption and nullification. the ****** theater of blood
was made Holy by way of forcing camels into eyes of needles in constant dystopian joy.


... and that's how the rain gets in.



[ From the ' Kingdoms Of Wane ', a Lost Tome from Antiquity and Dada ]


What ?
Emily Oct 2012
i wake in the morning
though never from sleep,
rather
shaking off demons
that live in day dreams.

crawling –
               crawling –

worms in my head
i shout
“get out!”
get out.
i weep,
“get out
-please out.”
You leave.

no-
not You, never You.
i’m hysterical.
i’m content.
oh well,
oh well.
no one said this made sense,

simply convenient -
we need to forget.

i scratch at myself,
i’m dead.
i drown.
i don’t own my mind
a darkness surrounds.
it murders my soul,
what will i feel? what will i be?

nothing.
i’m nothing.
a slave to disease,
i hide under covers,
this sickness I’ll please –
or else..
… what else?
what more can it seize?

victims screech from the street.
lullabies.
sinful sweet lullabies,
they sing me to sleep.
Shane Leigh Jan 2018
This is not poetry,
and this is not heartstrings
playing sad lullabies
in the deep spaces of your mind.

This is not poetic;
this is not reading
stanza after stanza
wanting to know what's at the end.

This is not rhythmic,
nor sensual, nor smooth,
nor is it flowing like words should
from the tongues of those
that know which words to use.

This is simple.
These are words
that make sense
without peaking around corners
or hiding behind luscious similes
or over-used metaphors
and out of touch symbolism.

If this is not poetry,
then
I refuse to dub myself
a poet
and will continue on,
but write prose instead.
© Shane Leigh
Enjoy (:
Anastasia Webb Sep 2014
I'll be eaten alive one day:
one day, i see it in my mind
so close to closure along an empty street
late at night
(owls just retired and birds
not yet up),
orbs of light tethered to tall electric poles
cast dappled circles on cracked pavement;
illumination and safety
(for that two metre radius).

Stepping between them
like a girl child on stones
across a garden,
I anticipate each missed step
as sinking into sand or frightful waves.

Singing drunk back-alley lullabies
i'll soothe the skelebabies in their sleep,
their poor crusted noses snuffled against
a cold shift of air
(their private torment plastered over billboards
with corporate logos and dim colours,
suggesting the city's lights have gone out and
the local government is in frantics.
That is, after all, what you'd focus on)

Girl child games were so tipsy and magic
(and so close to real coldness);
between two orbs of light i'll slip
through the cracks
in the pavement.

THE END.

(eat me alive,
eat me alive,
eaten alive by the
wolf at the door)
Idiosyncrasy Oct 2018
I went straight home speeding and brought another blanket in
But you said the pain is enough to warm your skin.

I said the sun found another reason to leave at dusk
And the moon asks for praise for saving us.

Maybe they should have let the stars shine brighter in the day
So the city lights, come dark, could lead the way.

Across cities, you have listened to my lullabies
Should I sing to you one more time or would you be the one to say goodnight?

Tuck me in and say goodbye
This time
This
time.
Unexpected.
One magpie on my balcony
makes me finally begin to feel
I am in the need of company from
Either the only thing that is real
Benign life being alone aloof or
To morn a dark separate from night in my sleep it took away from my eyes
All of my best years with a symphony
Of skeletal men set on high
Stabbing and singing me
These death lullabies
Howling my bones away
Hollow as child's play
One magpie Singing me to sleep

And the songbird gives me hope
When sleep offers no home
Waking up hours before the end of the day
Night
4.24.2014
Amanda May 2014
It was Saturday mornings like this;
or don't you remember?
Five-year-old me riding shotgun,
watching your cigarette embers
blow hastily out the window,
listening to the engine hum.

The Beatles would play on the radio,
you'd sing along,
and try to teach me, too.
“Close your eyes, and I’ll kiss you,
tomorrow I’ll miss you,
remember I’ll always be true…”


I’d watch your fingers drum rhythmically
on the steering wheel -
something I’d thought only daddies could do.

You may not have realized it,
but at a young age you taught me
how to love life, and embrace it completely.
With loving words, and a strong heart,
you told me I could be
anything I wanted to be.

I remember being young:
you, a drummer, on the road.
I’d wake up, startlingly,
every single time you came home.
You’d leave us each with
a kiss on the forehead,
promising, always, to come home.
“Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you,
tomorrow I’ll miss you…”

Singing us Beatles’ lullabies
with promises to never leave us alone.

Some nights I’d wake up
in the middle of the night.
In a panic, I’d run out to the living room
just to see the glow of the TV light.
“Daddy?,” I’d say, in a tiny voice
that only little girls laced with fatigue
can have.
Waking you up out of a dead sleep,
I thought, maybe, you’d be mad.
But you’d just look up,
and look over
to where I was standing,
And say,
“Baby, come lay with me.”

In your arms I found safety,
and the first protection I’d ever known.
You, daddy, are the one that I’ll come to
if ever I want to come home.

The TV lights glow soft now,
and that little girl is little, no more.
But don’t you ever think I’ll forget,
your voice when you’d close the door:
“Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you,
tomorrow I’ll miss you,
remember I’ll always be true.
And then while I’m away,
I’ll write home every day.
And I’ll send all my loving to you.
All my lovin’, I will send to you.
All my lovin, darlin’, I’ll be true.
All my lovin’, all my lovin’..”



Happy Birthday, daddy.
mg Jan 2013
Why don’t I get lullabies anymore?
Why don’t I get someone to tell me that the world will be alright when I wake up in the morning?
When I finally open my eyes after a sleep littered with unsettling dreams
I see hatred. I see garbage, fighting, sadness, and pain.
Am I dreaming the true reality, or are my dreams just coming true?
Even though when I wake up the world is still spinning,
It’s not turning the way it should.
A broken little heart entangles his tears,
that come from a person that he'll never see.
Wet rain boots and ***** feet make him forget
about the darkest nights. His bed and blankets
are like souvenirs from home; a house he'll never
remember. Lies and "I'm sorry"s are trapped in his
hair, dangling behind his ears, whispering such
morbid pain among his lullabies. With every cry he's
screamed for you, can you even hear him? He's afraid
to sleep alone, as the TV erases nightmares oozing from
his eyes, do you care at all? Lost toys and old photographs
make him plead; Oh, but why? He'll never understand the
love he couldn't have, the love you wouldn't give-
I made this poem a long time ago.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Pea May 2017
there was a time before we fell
into this ravine where we are now,
when i reminded myself to know
my boundaries. to recall that i've been
broken enough before to gamble my heart again.
to think things through before i spit them out
of my mouth. i can still remember that i never
wanted you the way that i do now.
i never intended to.
all i wanted was to ***** your monochromatic heart
and feel you bleed sweet technicolor lies and lullabies.
but now, where are we now?
i chased after you, bleeding yourself dry you told me
without turning your head, that you're through with me.
that you're done trying to make me feel sunshine and
sunflowers within me when i'm unhappy.
so i stopped running.
and i watched you go as you carried with one hand
your heart and its veins drenched in black and white.
Em MacKenzie Oct 2017
Sleep; I've been waiting for you every night,
and I'm in too deep, so deep I can barely see the light.
I've been counting sheep, but there's always one more in my sight,
they want to leap, but their small legs don't have the might.

This isn't good for me, no, it's not good for anyone,
A human was meant to see, the warmth and light of the sun.
I've wasted Summer away, we're almost in November,
I'm losing more life every day, I just want to sleep forever.

So sing me some lies and lullabies,
something sweet that won't make me cry,
some sighs for the starry skies,
for just you and I.
Sing me some lies and lullabies,
something sweet to make me try,
some sighs for my tired eyes,
it's just you and I.

I don't wish to live this way, no, no one should be a vampire,
but I do it for the pay, because the rent is getting higher.
When's the last time I felt sane? I don't even really remember,
each breath causes pain, I just want to sleep forever.

Sleep; I've been waiting for you every night,
and I wish to keep, what remains of my brain that's right.
I've been counting sheep, but there's always one more in my sight,
the number's steep, and the fence is closing in tight.

This isn't good for me, no, this isn't good for anyone,
people were meant to be, another animal to hunt and run.
I've wasted my life away, next will come December,
I'm sure I'll feel the same in May, I just want to sleep forever.
Jaii Cure Mar 2019
Heart racing, mind pacing... thinking of the times when everything was perfect. One simple **** up and your greatest fears come to haunt you. You close the windows to your mind to keep the bad thoughts out. The thoughts of fears and sadness. But then, the monsters get in and sing us lullabies to make us feel alright.
The things we would only wish to never go through. Sometimes we feel broken, hurt... we don’t really understand life. Our demons come to us as things we really like.. music, relationships, material things. Things that eat us up inside and and we fight to keep em in our lives but alas, the monsters get in and sing us lullabies to make us feel alright.
We fight and fight knowing that these things are ba *** us but they’re so sweet to the lips like candy in the mouth of a child. We fight to keep these things in our lives because they’re our favourite addiction. Much better than any joint, greater than any video game. We fight and fight to keep these things in our lives, but just when we think we’re about to lose the battle... the monsters get in and sing us lullabies to make us feel alright.
jennee Sep 2015
She sang herself to sleep every now and then
As the tears trickled down her tiny face
During those nights, no one heard except for the pillow case positioned under her head
And the mattress served as a barrier for the demons that lived beneath her bed
As the sun buries itself into the sea,
Its flames die out and so does she
Nights are when she crosses out the days left on her beating skin
Dawns are when she peels off dry scars and have her cuts covered in bandages
Solitary lullabies are what keep her sane
But the words leave the mouth of a battered child yearning for the company of another,
But she is all that will remain

n.j.
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
Touch me not
I am not up for grab
I am everyone's dream
I am happy as it’s
sing me not your lullabies!

Live with me not
I am not for good
time with me is
gone so quick.
Before the cloud
rains down singing
and one response to a tweet.
Then why complain
without happy me
nothing is groovy.

Come to me not
I am not
first come first serve.
But when I come
happy me is spot on
everyone’s rose!

I belong to no one
get me for a song
but in no time
I could be gone.
Then why no one
forgets me not?
Brycical Jun 2014
My body
mind's lobby
old-time-y lobotomy.
*Surfing kaleidoscope time waves,
baking green tree eurythmy cookies,
singing campfire folky-tale lullabies.
We enjoy tasting dawn-squash memories.
We feast,
wheat honey almond pancakes,
feels like deja-vu.
Green Tea gurgle screams--
the moment is lost.

And in an instant I see we've traveled millenia.
Warren Gossett Sep 2011
Early dusk and it's as if
all the birds have memorized
lullabies; they've quieted
to delicate refrains
as the summer sun descends
flame orange and spent
to its western berth. Birds huddle
deep within the cradling
catalpa trees and murmur
in their soft way to one other,
barely audible to those who
would listen, perhaps
reassuring each other that
the night will not be long.

--
sleeplessnxghts Mar 2014
Another case of missing you
And all I have are empty pill bottles
And broken picture frames
Scattering my carpet

I've lost the will to suffer the poison of my mind
And the frailty of my heart
Loose-leaf love notes lay unwritten
Begging to be finished

The ache that writhes inside my chest is your absence
And the miracle of your voice
Faded daydreams fight through the nightmares
Yearning for sincerity in their actions

Inside misty lullabies are arising heart palpitations
And thoughts of "what could've been"
Ephemeral kisses mask my lips
Raging for redemption

Unaligned stars failed to hold us together
And seal our dearest fate
Trite misunderstandings hide my frowns
Beneath the surface of reality

Half-bitten apples like fragments of my heart disperse on the floor
And attract anxious ants
Hallow stomaches crave more than the necessity of nutrients
It requests psychological fulfillment

Swallowed confessions you continue to choke on
And repeating apologies
Distrusting anchors hold me back from the words I wish to say
Begging for love

An ocean, of salty tears
Drip onto the tastebuds that always adored you
And suddenly- nostalgic eyes are all I see
In the mirror
Isaac Golle Sep 2012
Grace.
Let it fall like an ocean
Let it rip through the skies
Let it fill up my heart and pour out my eyes
Let it gravitate my soul
Let it make me feel whole
Let it remind me of why I live
Let it remind me of all that you give!

Grace
Let my heart be made still and let mine eyes be opened!
Let me remember that my ears
were made to listen
And my lips exist for a lot more than just kissin'
Let me remember that these hands simply cannot do it all
Cuz see I wasn't made for that
I wasn't made for that at all

Grace
I was made to live and when I say live I think I mean give
But then I quickly realize I can only give so much!
And there's only so many lives I can touch!
Well how can I love if I can't constantly give
And how can I live if I can't constantly love but
Where's the hope in the God above if I'm the one doin' all the work?
And that's when I remember I accomplish the most when I just let go
And let You grab hold

Grace
Well what were these hands made for if not feeding the poor?
And what are these heart-wrenching feelings of constantly wanting more?
Why do my bones ache and my soul quake at the thought
Of living for myself?
Why do I worry so much about putting the marginalized on the shelf?
Why do I worry
about a life that loves hell?
Well maybe all this
is an unidentified desire to glorify God personified in Jesus Christ crucified

Grace
And maybe my soul's been singin' songs to my saviour since the day I was born
And maybe my saviour's been singin' sweet lullabies to quench the fear in my eyes
Maybe not all is lost
Maybe hope and salvation really come without cost
WELL TRY AND TELL THAT TO THE MAN LIVIN' ON THE STREET WITH NOTHIN' TO EAT
an'
TELL THAT TO THE CHILD WHOSE FATHER GIVES HIM A DAILY BEATING
TELL THE MURDERER'S AND RAPISTS THAT THEY CAN GO FREE
TELL THEIR VICTIMS...
Tell them what?

Grace
Maybe it's time I remembered I don't have all the answers
Maybe it's time I remembered I am a speck of dust in a rolling beach of existence
Maybe it's time I look at what's right in front of me
And not strain my neck as far as the eye can see
Maybe it's time to focus on living and not just surviving
Maybe thriving looks more like trusting than trying
Maybe all the answers to my questions aren't really answers at all
Maybe it's alright that my walk sometimes feels like a crawl
Maybe 100% of the wrongs I do are all my fault

Grace
Maybe God's lookin' at me like a child set free
Maybe God's not lookin' at who I used to be
Maybe God's lookin' right past all the bitterness and apathy
Maybe God really does look at the heart
And maybe He's been holding mine from the very start
Maybe this is all going according to plan and if it's not well then maybe God's still using it to help me become a better man
Maybe it's time I stopped trying to figure all this out!

Grace
Let it be felt
Tangibly

— The End —