Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Joanna Jan 2016
I wish love destroyed you,
But it doesn't do you that courtesy,
It wounds and maimes you,
And it leaves you alive,
It doesn't do you the justice of a mercy killing,
We bleed again and again,
The scars come and never leave,
Forever altered by all of the moments,
Love isn't poetic,
Love is the cache 22 that reminds us that even if you're in heaven right now,
The devil used to also be god's favorite angel,
And hell isn't so far away after all.
© Joanna Mrsich. All rights reserved
Kaila Russ Apr 2014
Naysayers gonna nay say, vacayers gonna vacate.
I like that I don't have to use hate;
so strong of a word to perpetrate,
this simple feeling of discord brought up on ones own accord.
Throw your hands in the ayer
if your a straight player
of the blame game,
taking in all the shame
like a flame that maimes
consuming and fuming

Get on some level
not on my level,
its reserved for those
dare devils
who can't care
or share
but want to.

cut that can't
or won't
*******.
just don't.
its a moot point and
It ain't fair
but to be real
its about the pair
that the universe designed
and that was meant for you
to complete.
you're a night
to some ones day.
youre standing in the spotlight for some one standing back stage.  
a yin to their Yang.
the turmoil
for some ones ecstasy.
or even being alive
while your other half dies.
you never know, but that's the way the world spins.
now
Steadily peel your skin, thin, kin like.
let's not succumb to the vast misunderstanding of human aesthetics.
one just can't belong to someone that needs anything.
to truly love someone or something you must first truly love yourself.
could you love me in this skin alone, walking around unbound by blood and bones and consistency and veins.
because I could,
would
and have done.
to believe you are a shell of yourself is like being your own exoskeleton.
having an out of body experience; lying there looking up at yourself wondering why you are here at this exact moment.
and why
did all events in my life culminate to this one moment of pure universal ebbing and flowing.
now read up on shedding,
that layer you just grew out of,
is unvieling this new glove.
rise above,
this is it.
feeling fit, feeling right.
3 am. weekday night.
widen your peripheral sight
its alright,
your slight change of might
may evolutionize this transition over night.
so its time to revolutionize our position for the right.

Enveloping this
eloping of collective consciousness, knowledge and intuition,
is the slow mellow bass of the  monks on mountain tops or in monasteries;
chanting as well as enchanting beautiful sweet moments of life and strife alive in our NOW.
carrying monotonously and steadily with mellow vibrating chords this unknown marriage of the cerebral bonding of these simple words.
for they are the key to your light and might and tight nit click.
get it?

I'll slow my roll for the roll call of my souls haul and ma's tall story of how worried she was  for her curry eating potato favorite
with some bone marrow on the down low.
she may be sad; however she will be had when the cab arrives.
its funny that he thrives off her drives and my strives for money.
I hope this makes sense, but if not get some intense metaphorical pretenses
up in that co centric dome
let this be known, and let the flowers of a new era be grown upon the previously sown, drones
of past scone munching, baby punching, number crunching, people at luncheons.
who needs that mess
we've got free press
and I'll address
what I think needs said.
so go with it, go against it, either way your thinking about it.

and when the truth is spoken
you will always have your token person,
who thinks their outspoken opinion has never been a
'not to mention'
and needs to be mentioned
but the tension isn't right
because they lost most of their night contemplating their own contribution rather than
what was the plight of the group as a whole.
they may elude the **** and bareness of the truth
but when truth is exposed
all doors are closed.
one can see the hosed, declothed and opposed inmate
for what she really is.

lady liberty and me, we're a lot a like as is, but to be on some other plane **** she ain't on some plain ****.
justice is her forte and the order of the court is death by a journey to sanity and back.
we have continuously for decades been doing the same things over and over again with the same results.
by choice...
this is the opposite of the definition of insanity which is only expecting different results. we have thrown ourselves into a will full suspension of disbelief and it will be our downfall.
who was the deciding factor in this big meeting where they decided how humans would lay out their lives according to a 'normal'.
but wait, justify that.
who can, just sayin, cause she nor me can but blame on any man, woman, can can dancer or politician that has the freedoms of any human being. yeah there are morals and ethics;
but what about those reefs of coral
and jungles full of antibiotics that laugh in the face of illness. who will stand for them?  
Ahem.
we can't say one thing and do another, oh wait.
that's the human resolve to almost anything really.
we don't recall its involvement in our lives, however we let it govern this encampment we have pioneered along the edges of our souls.
Oregon trail for minds veiled seems to fail and impale the true nature of the creature ruled by outside elements all the while toiling and searching for the yearning that it may quench with only the comfort of another being.

any situation, reveals that
there is unlimited potential in this gradual change we are experiencing.
a change for the bettering of humankind.
its provocative and emotive and natural and easy and thought provoking and beauty evoking.
but I'm smoking here and its bad for me but that doesn't stop me from poking my free will into this
while I sit here and am continuously choking on my own words I can't get out in the sequence I desire.
while making what few pointless decisions I get to make in the scheme of things.

why do I get to do that?

why must there be anything else. after all, if all that we are is not spiritual but physical, physics.
then wouldn't my purpose be to completely oppose another force within this environment equally and with as much force as it exerts on me.
something like an equal and opposite reaction.
or
a completion of a pair.
I'm out to find, define, refine, get in line, make mine, and waste time with my equal and opposite reaction.
please take action,
in any case, situation, point, or debate you come to find yourself placed in at the moment.
if you don't
then don't.
I can only dream and hope for a better world for the moment.
at least until I can get into this one deeper than I am already.
those of you who don't understand this I feel for you and hope that you come across some sort of super explanatory device because I'm never going to get it out right on paper in complete thoughts all nice
Sylvie Wild Dec 2018
Creativity has escaped me
Not a thought
nor sound is uttered
This gig has me upside down
I just wanna frown
Days are long
I'm drowning here
Among the rubble
of infamous moments
Then back I go again;to breakfast
A plain bowl of oats
A cold cup of joe
5 hours rest, at best
A sick newborn
O, Lord I pray
Just not today
Smile on me
Shed some light
Before I breakout
That awful fright
Life is full of delight
full of pain
Name it, before it maimes you
Always you'll be wondering
Has the score been settled?
Was victory won?
Kiss the trumpet goodbye
Say hello pig-sty
Why not join the worms?
Down in the dirt
They seem content
to enjoy the decay
They draw nigh in comfort
To dark oozing mud
It's there or the sky
A twisted tumult
on hurricane red alert
Don't be a fair weathered friend
for sure you'll get hurt
Your'e losing altitude
Yet picking up speed
Momentum is dropping
And you have your needs
Sky plummeting hell
Turning and churning
bound for the ground
Funny how the bird
dines on the worm
It's shelter is spurned
Yet deep, deep in the ground
The worm is found all safe and sound
Sheltered from the storms adamant thunder
Till the aftermath
The ***** fact
The rains dispersed
The sun has rose
Out comes the beak
And with a sharp tweet
The feathered fellow, has come to dine
on that earthly mind
Seems the bird has beaten the worm
But what is a trophy without a nest to return to?
The hurricane leaves
the trees all a mess
This hapless handful a homeless reck
No-where to return to
Nothing to do
A paragraph, a phrase
A bitter rage
Different seasons
Different emotions
Fight or flight
Dig a little deeper
Or, fly a whole lot higher
There's no winners, nor losers
Just different circumstance
Us, doing us
What we must
Remember in the end
To dust we'll return
To be eaten by worms
Which are then eaten by birds
A cycle called life
We must all circle through.

— The End —