Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
__
Like the way the valleys of the earth
Cup their hands for light and drink,

Like the way the desert opens up its sweet mouth
And laughs

When someone melts pearls in the sky
And rain, rain
Returns like a divine lover
With a hundret wonderful gifts

O, the words from the true Teacher
Bring my mind and cells
Such sacred nourishment and life.

When the moon is full
It gets gregarious and likes to chat.
I have heard it say,

"Look what can happen, dear seeker,
When you lean your graceful arms toward God in prayer,

Look at all that amorous light you can catch
That will help the night musicians and your soul
Get loose."

I stand revolving like a great dervish
In an ecstatic submission to His will.

I have been hired to perform the final act of grace.
I am the priest in every sacred wedding tent.

Tonight I am a sovereign planet
With a great wool skirt.
I am a divine artist
One stage before God's entire court.

With each sublime whirl and orbit
I bow to the Sun's feet.
I fill my glass for you, dear pilgrim,
Beneath the luminous leaking barrel.

I then pour all the contents of my heart
And eye's experience
Upon this banquet table,

For your body and mind are a precious silk cloth
Hafis has come to dye!

I circumambulate the Truth from the sky
Like a golden vulture.
I have forsaken all the crippling manners
Of even the most royal birds.

I carry a lute in my talons like a mortal weapon.
Please, please enter into a holy battle with me.
For I am God's friend
Who maims with compassion!
And you are a lost dove upon His wing.

I can teach you
How to bribe the Beloved with an angelic tune

So that the divine manna of His glance
Will fall upon your palate.

Some days I know
You are being trained as an emissary
To serve in his office of joy.

Dear one,
Last night, in the gallery of Reality
I saw a portrait I will never forget:

The Beloved was stirring a ***
With a spoon the size of a universe
And when He lifted it
I saw this whole world and its affairs
Were not even a floating speck of a barley
Before the radiance of two diamonds
That were His brilliant cheeks!

All I could do when beholding that vision
Was to fall upon my knees

And cup my hands like a humble valley
Huddled between the thights
Of this exquisite, holy mountain range

And try to build a resevoir to hold the Beloved's
Resplendent smile
That offers myriad tickets to freedom,
That offers the splendor of hearing God sing!

I am the spinning wheel upon the infinite.
I have swallowed the axis and hub
That fathered light and truth.

Grab hold and swing from me, my dear,
Doing the impossible
With your hands and feet both clapping.

I offer a mother's comfort and knowledge
To those who are tired and weak.

And when you become strong
I will conduct like a skilled warior-king
Your divine volcanic glands exploding like new galaxies
In all their blessed madness.

God offers love, love, love
With His own hands,
To your beautiful parched holy mouth.

Open your soul, handsome, dying one.
See all gender talk like a mighty joke,
In a oneness as glorious like this!

Hafiz, go running from that gallery
Like a naked drunk lion
Roaring with a laughter that will shake
The whole earth
And every window and door throughout the sleeping
Cities,

Like a man,
Like a man who is delivering on a great steed
Fantastic news!

Tie yourself as a bell
To herds of mating camels
And spring flocks of clouds and birds.

Tie yourself to spawning stars
And to leaping whales
In a game of tag with the Moon!
Tie yourself to everything in creation
That got poured from God's magic hat.

O, tie your soul like a magnificent sweet chime
To every leaf and limb in existence,

That begin to shout divine obscenities
So that he will sure send a tremendous storm.
Because Hafiz, because Hafiz,
O, sweet Hafiz,    
You are a man with such benevolent and fantastic
Good News!

Dear wayfarer,
Now indulge me in a sober moment.
Please set down your glass.

I can help you write a letter of resignation
To all your fears and sadness.

Listen:
Let all movement and sound,
Let all movement and sound

Begin to speak the truth to your heart
And write its music upon your vision and
Soft pink tongue.

Soak all your prejudices in oil-
I would consider it a favor.
Bring and sing to me your darkest thoughts,
For my whole body is blazing emerald wick,
I am a pure flame
Who needs and loves to burn.

We should lean against each other more
In such a strange world as this
That can make you scared
And even believe in that lie called death.

We should support each other more
Give more warmth
In such a demanding world as this.

Let all movement
Gently yield something of God
Upon your chin and vision
And roll down on your prayer mat
That will take root in the holy soil of your surrender.
May I hone your devotion with a kiss?

For all in existence is just spinning like this
Sweet earth
In a divine current.

Why not dance like Hafiz in the cup,
In the cup of His spoon?

I offer my clapping spirit to you,
That is in eternal movement.

Hafiz offersto bow at your feet
With hands that god has shaped and pounded.

Look in my palms, my dear,
They now contain your face and infinite existence.

All your ideas of space and time are shadows
That will run from this Sun She has made me.

I want to tie myself
As a gift around your neck.
I want to place a wonderful secret
Near your veins.

Why not use my verse as a golden camel bell
That you can turn upside down into a chalice
And fill with wine?

Hafiz,
You are a divine camel bell
That the Beloved is ringing with his own hand.

Hafiz you were a blessed slave to Truth
That died like a cut reed and became hollow-
Turned into a divine instrument
That God now lifts to His own mouth,
Plays to summon this world to freedom.

How many man exist upon this earth
To whom I could whisper a holy secret?

Dear ones,
"God has sown Himself onto my tongue."

Like the way
The valleys of the earth
Cup their hands for light and drink,

Like
The way
The desert opens up its sweet mouth
And laughs

When someone melts pearls in the sky

An rain, rain
Returns like a divine lover
With a thousands wonderful
Gifts,

O, the luminous words of my Beloved
Now bring my mind and soul
Such a sacred
Nourishment
And

Peace.
~Hafiz ~
Hand written by
Impeccable Space
Poetic Love

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AUcWa7PDW0
Then dark with dripping blood it gave a howl
and cried again: 'Our damaged branches ache!
Your pillage maims me! Can't you feel at all?

We who were men are now this barren brake.
You'd grant us your respect and stay your hand
were we a thicket not of souls but snakes.'

As wood still green starts burning at one end
and from its unlit end the burning stick
drips sap, and hisses with escaping wind,

so from the broken stump there oozed a mix
of words and blood: a frothy babbling gore.
I dropped the branch. My fear had made me sick.

'Poor wounded soul, could he have grasped before,'
my sage replied, 'what now he sees is true,
and blindly trusted in poetic lore,

then he need not have so insulted you.
But as there was no other way to learn
I urged him to a test that grieved me too.

Tell us who you were, that he, in turn,
can set your honor freshly back in style
among those he will teach when he returns.'

The trunk: 'Your speech, by raising hope that I'll
regain repute, makes words arise in me.
I mean to talk, if you will stay a while:

I was the one entrusted with the keys
to Federigo's mind, and it was sweet
to share his thought and guard his strategy

for noble ventures secret in my keep —
so faithfully I filled this glorious post,
I gladly sacrificed my health and sleep...'
Sean Jun 2018
It corrupts you
Losing control of soul
It hurts you
Slowing your growth
It maims you
Stealing your heart
One day people will see
Until then I fight
Because of one reason
It's not me
It's not psychiatry
It's that there is a way of seeing
A way of not seeing
And my mortal enemy is
The anti-fam
So I take war on
The war for eternity
Corruption or not
You know you agree
choices
embrace things
that sickens
enslaves
maims
kills

unbound
yourself

loose
your chains

turn away from
the dungeon
that has
become
your death
chamber
you
alone
crafted
with such
deft skill

you exiled
yourself

hid away
from the living

inhabiting a
convenient
confinement

relishing
the deceitful
pleasures of an
addled mind

a twisted
portrait
of a
shackled
self

living
inside
the
dark abode
of your head

bumping
about in
unmapped
caves

dwelling
in a place
that no one
could find
nor dare
explore

you heap
stones
at the door
providing
your only
means
of escape

safely
entombed
in your
vapid
delusions

a decrepit
graveyard

an abandoned
township
of lonely
sarcophagi

long forgotten
by the
moldering
bodies
of the city's
ghostly
citizens

you reek
with the
stench
of death

you
murdered
yourself

and
became
dead
to us

But
Jesus
wept

over
your
self
denigration

never
forsaking
y­our favored
condition

The
Good Friend
lifted
you
from
Edens
dust

and
showered
you
with
fine
thi­ngs

yet
you
found
no joy
in

the gift
of solace

the might
of grace

the balm
of love

the rest
of peace

all
only
heaped
torments
upon
you

your
sisters
wailed
in grief

imploring

The
Resurrector
to make you
whole

he only
shrugs
and
extends
a palm

unloose
the rags
of your
swaddled
grief

unbound
yourself
Lazarus

come out
and walk
amongst
the living
again

put
down your
stones

the hand
is nigh

choose well
my friend

St. Alban's
Bible Study
7/09

jbm
TW Nov 2018
I am a writer who hates whiskey.

I feel that I should love it like a writer's only friend,
Like I should sip it from a glass while I scribe with broken pens,
Like I should clink the ice against the sides and swirl it, deep in thought,
And take it neat and raw, in admiration of its steely course.
It should lubricate the mind and guide the flow of words to page,
And since a nervous age I've yearned to say I love the way it burns and maims,
And maybe on a certain day, I'll glug it without choking, breathless,
But for now it hurts my brain to even think about its... smokey wetness.

I've idolized an archetype, a writer with a harmful life,
Sit alone in bars at night, lament the fact that art is strife,
But recently I'm thinking more, and honestly, this can't be right,
I love the pen and paper, and I love the fact it's hard to write.
It's the way that I've romanticized it, fantasized and glamorized it,
Like I could just forget about a novel, let Jack Daniel's write it,
While I sat and focused on my magnum opus, penning parts of it in prose,
I viewed my present like it's hindsight, through glasses tinted rose.
K G Jan 2017
Vacivity feels abstract, yet maims nether ends
Burgeoning to habitual like repeated ******
Overcoming this notion of occurring widdiful
By consummation within myself
Nulling unfurling wounds
Garbed in a crimson lagoon
KG
Viseract Jul 2016
Checks his cards with certainty
Poker face that shows no sign
Of the best cards he has and holds
Structured so, flawless design

---------------------------

He lays the King of Spades
The story goes he digs your grave
A brutal, merciless, powerful lord
On par with Satans' desire to destroy


--------------------------

Spreads his hand, checks again
The end is nigh for you, my friend
He smiles a little, it fits the moment
When he lays the dreaded Joker

----------------------------

Word has it, the Joker, a clown
Is the one who underneath his smile, a frown
He jests and contests with others simply for smiles
No currency has he, amusement his one bright fire


--------------------

The final card, Uno, one claims
The one thing society brutally maims
For each is unique, a vital part
When he plays the Ace of Hearts

-------------------------

"Thank you for playing me
Not many accept my challenge, you see
They call me Silence, the Blank Card
And my skill with words vastly admired"

*I just don't talk so much
Was going to make this a story, and perhaps I will
AJ Jul 2016
Some days she looks at me
And bears a smile that shines like light
Other days she looks away
Forgets I loved her at first sight.

I promised her I'd never leave
Unless she told me twice
And now she's told me three times
With that distant look in her eyes.

Beauty hurts and beauty maims
And memories never fade
I look out the window, watch the sky
Fill up and pour with rain
But I can't leave
She's stuck in mind
Some days she stays
And life passes by
And nothing stings worse
Than crawling back.

She told me that she'd never love
Someone as good as me
'Cause good men tore her heart apart
In these cold, dark city streets.

But pain can't last forever
And neither can father time
So take a chance or two or more
And life won't pass us by.

Beauty hurts and beauty maims
And memories never fade
I look out the window, watch the sky
Fill up and pour with rain
But I can't leave
She's stuck in mind
Some days she stays
And life passes by
And nothing stings worse
Than crawling back.
They called out on the loud speaker
it's all out war
we are fighting for resources
funny that, I have been here before

The flight coordinator, calls by the numbers
I will be the 25th to fly
we are so loaded with weaponry
the poor ******* don't stand a chance

It's just another war
so get your butts to the hanger deck
for we are powerfully adequate
with our fleet that maims and wrecks

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Kasey Apr 2015
The thing about love
See
Is that it can be everything, and nothing
Everywhere, and nowhere
Too much, and not enough.
All at once.
And it's hard to remember the beauty of the fire
After it burns and maims your skin.
But oh, but oh.
The beauty was there. The fire was there.
And the burn will never truly heal.
Colin Kohlsmith Feb 2010
Such charm, such life
Such love, such passion
Swirling, twirling
Firing captions
Nuggets of sheer genius thought
Pulled from the ether
From the universe bought
But at what a price!
At what a cost!
The victims strewn
And all that’s lost
Thrown to the depths
From the highest heights
A life in freefall
From day to night
A shooting star
That briefly flares
Against velvet black
In brilliant glare
Its ashes fall
Upon the sea
In gloom, despair
And misery
The waves of rage
Rise up and break
And roil that monster
The ancient snake
That bites and maims
And kills at will
And robs life itself
Of all its thrills
The lace with intricate patterns
reveals the silk of pink

The feather lightly brushes the flesh
The cane dimples the skin

A touch caresses the mind
A word pierces the heart

Water cools the flesh
While tears sting with pain

soft material floats
a rip of fabric maims

The name like a whisper on the wind
while the time is like a scream

The eyes windows to deep inside
But also doors to keep closed

The lips part in bliss
The hurt escapes with a sigh

The truth seems known
Lies cloud the sky

The flowers have blossomed
but the flesh has died

The velvet softness of dew
The searing heat of the whip

A gentle hand
A firm hand

Which is preferred
Niyahlove all rights deserved
Dev Sep 2015
"Your body, beats
Your name, maims
Your scent, suffocates
Your smile, slays
Your voice, violates
Your lips on mine are like a knife in my spine
Your skin, stings
Your eyes, paralyze
Your hair, hurts
Your mind's, unkind
Your cuteness, cuts
Your beauty's, brutal..
But even now, after stating all the attributes that I  loath.. I truly can't think of one thing about you, that I don't love.."
if kisses are green and bodies verdantly exact in sameness
   let my hands be two birds glorifying the waters in the slopes
of fingers,  
  
if song is but undeath and the rise and fall the unalphabeted siren
      of the morning,

       such loose wind swaying over her silently as loincloths
   over blackred roses,  easily it breaks like a finger of a shadow
     whirling gently through opened windows in candid moonlight

but  if surely does your going signal the dawn but no birds
   wreathing the trees and no gardens inherit garlands,

  what shall then be two birds over waters but a single stride
      of sorrow and whose temporal flights disdain centrifugal faces
of waiting; measured, coveted, photographed, love everywhere fading
    where silence maims sound and music topples over the moon
       the stars  the sleepless nights and  the stellified dust of the world
             that must be opened again
On one of city’s endless wires
Above spits venom guttural swears
When the sun tinges an orange red
The lone bird cries a dirge for dead!

The dead footsteps that left the shore
Walked million miles could walk no more
Their joys and pains on earth foothold
Silenced now deep buried in cold!

The bird it knows the stories untold
Hurtful sighs of hearts of gold
Silent fall of molten pain
Left for good here won’t be again!

The lone bird knows how hard it hits
The ones still here forlorn heartbeats
When death maims bonds breaks love’s pairs
Moonless eyes wake through nightmares!
Sean Stull May 2016
"I am a soldier, the real dark knight,
when the innocent is in danger I gear up and put up a fight.
Punishing the evil and protecting the innocent,
what job could be more glorious and magnificent?
Like King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table,
I stop evil like Morgana except this is no fable.
Night or day I set out to find,
all of the evil of mankind.
Protect and serve is my anthem,
I have seen more than the innocent can fathom.
I serve to protect my people so evil will let them be,
but my people have forsaken me.
I remember a case so clear as the sky,
a case that has memories that makes me want to crawl up and die.
On the radio a domestic was reported,
so off I went for there was evil to be thwarted.
I pulled up the car and knocked on the door,
when I heard a loud crash and a man scream, "YOU DUMB *****."
I busted in to find a woman crying on the floor,
bruises and cuts all over her with a man looking to deal out some more.
With a blade in one hand and her hair in another,
he was about to ****** a woman who could have been someone's mother.
I asked him to drop the knife and step away,
and instead he turned out and stared me in the eyes ready to slay.
Thus I realized I was staring in the eyes of a ghoulish fiend,
who knew what horrors he could have done if i did not intervene?
Face to face with a evil beyond any level,
it's not every day you meet the devil.
Smiling he held his hands up for surrender,
but as soon as I stepped forward he swung his knife and ended her.
Across her neck went the blade,
if only I had been faster to her aid.
I opened fire and put a bullet through his head,
but it was too late as she was already dead.
A pool of blood laid the victim,
next to her laid the killer with a smile inflecting him.
He was a monster a true servant of Beelzebub from the very flames,
he enjoys his victims blood curling screams when he maims.
The monster was slain but the damage was done,
all because I was not faster pulling on the gun.
The news spread like fire the next day,
but what they were saying made my face turn grey.
I serve to protect my people so evil will let them be,
but my people have forsaken me.
The monster's mother was fronting a mob,
calling me a ****** and a pig in between a sob.
They wanted my head for killing a monster in cold blood,
dragging my name the entire time through mud.
Police brutality and racism causes panic you see,
and media can't sell as many stories when you are filled with glee.
So instead of getting a medal or being treated with respect,
I am a villain to the very people I swore to protect.
**** the pigs and scream **** THE POLICE,
no one ever cares when we rest in peace.
Nobody cries when one of us dies,
people just assume we probably had hate in our eyes.
Funny how people pull race when a criminal dies,
but no one cares about the reason the widow of a black cop cries.
Racism, greed, and corruption are very real in all professions in life,
but I did not see race when I saw the man's knife.
I saw a bully and a damsel who needed some help,
she could not even talk because she was beaten into a whelp.
I serve to protect my people so evil will let them be,
but my people have forsaken me.
I became a guardian to serve the good and punish the wicked,
I continue to do no matter how I am depicted.
There is hate and evil in this world and it inflicts us all,
but we will always be ready to help even with our backs to the wall.
When ever you think every dead criminal is innocent and every cop is bigoted and furious,
imagine a daughter being told her daddy, her hero, is insidious.
No matter the backlash I will wake up and serve the next day,
ready to partake in a new Hell's doorway.
So before you think every cop because of one is malicious,
remember there is more who have done acts that are judicious.
I will always serve to protect my people so evil will let them be,
but God why have my people have forsaken me?"
Andrew Switzer Apr 2014
The mystic Mys-Match of Mew Manor mounts the moon at midnight. He flies freely, forgetting the faltering fallacies that fold this failing facade of figments of the imagination and inglorious nations into a crooked caricature of creeps, clowns, and carcinogens to our culture. From crack and **** to casual deaths, the population prays for post-******* match days.

What's the reason of rhyme if you don't have a reason to see a new season of sweethearts and treason? The mystic Mys-Match of the planet Piblatch has snatched nary a glance of this reprehensible romance. He hums happily, hovering over the homes of the hurt and the helpless, unaware of the ugly and untrue souls of the suffering below.

Due in part, perhaps, to the planet Piblatch, whose population prowls playfully amongst the pipperplitz plants and the tinktertip trees. A civilization unaware of Gods and demons, *****'s and dip *****.

At sunset, the Piblatchians partake of rackaday root and crushed up clibber clatch cuttings. They see the psychedelic sky ways that sing of sweet things and spacey swings.

As mankind manipulates, murders, and maims itself, the world which waivers with weakened wings is consumed by the carnivores that **** off the common crowd and leave only the corrupt and cantankerous crooks that fall to the depths of despair when the bomb goes off, blotting out humanity's light forever.

But the mystic Mys-Match and his planet Piblatch live on, past the end of time itself. The peaceful people continue to enjoy their lives and never know of the negative notions that drove the dimwitted denizens of Earth into a violent and gruesome grave.

Mankind could have learned something from the Piblatchians, if only they had opened their eyes and seen the light.
Josh D Selby Mar 2012
**** life, I feel like death. I feel like dyin. Tired of sighin. Fed up with continuously fruitlessly tryin. Really high and im flyin. Cant stay up forever. Still though, ill never stop smokin, no never. Im too real to stay or be sober, thats how it feels. Burn my own flesh sometimes, just to feel. Into shadow shards I peel. On blistered and ****** knees I kneel. For this life is too heavy.

Words are wind and we are dirt. With disaster I flirt. ******* mother nature just to watch her squirt. Boiling tsunamis and enormous hurricanes. Breathing lava veins, losses but no gains. Im starving stains, water as it floods and drains. Im pain as it pours and maims.

Winter words and summer birds all call to me wonderfully. Woeful discontented rage never vented. Running in dry rivulets out of my gaping eye sockets. No skeletons in my closet, but there ARE dripping molding bones stuffed into my pockets. Lined with self loathing. My very favorite style of clothing.

Ill ramble and roll right on. Rollin and ramblin. Bettin and gamblin all of my hope away. If I were you I would bet against me. Trees and tears raised me. Look, see? Ive got bark for skin and my confidence is thin. I would write more. But I would not know how, when, or where to even begin.
#273 / Dec. 10th, 2011
CeilingStar Mar 2017
***
Hate is a darkness
A feeling, a sound, a phrase, a sight
It's a swirling atrocity
Surfacing from the deep depths of our souls
Breaking through
Poisoning and ravaging and tainting each perception
It blinds and maims
It's has no remorse
It drowns, seeping into every crevice of your being, leaving nothing untouched
Gradually, it consumes your soul
Torn, bruised yet bursting with spite, sin, jealousy, deceit, manipulation, lies
It never ends
Twists, turns and misleads
A game you could never possibly win,
And one you've inevitably already lost
In hate you find a rotten hope for violence and injustice
It'll devour everything and I hope it should not afflict the world thereafter
It plagues ideas and concepts
It is sown amongnst us
Harbouring a tendency to cast a perilous shadow
Laying a trap to the unwary
It befalls even the worthy and the gracious
Those in love with love
Those that love the light and the light of love
But mostly those who love
As with love there always lurks hate
And with hate you extinguish the love

KG
Kasey May 2013
He used to walk with his head down,
Eyes on the ground sheltered by black lenses
Brick walls covering the window to his soul.
He barely even walked,
trudged really.
Like he was making his way through a swamp of ***** things
Things he wanted nothing to do with.
He deafened himself with his music
So he couldn't even hear the filthy creatures that taunted him.
Tennis shoes or moccasins, didn't really matter,
He moved them one at a time, step-by-step,
Carefully choosing the route that would leave him most alone,
So he could wonder to himself why no one loved him.
I've never seen his eyes, but I've looked into his soul
And though he's never spoken a word to me
I understand his heart.
He's let it be so, that people can see,
That he maims himself out of love
And though he is still blinded by walls,
And deafened by music
He now walks with his arms open, his head up,
His heart vulnerable.
He is a book you have to take from the shelf and open for yourself.
No cover art, no summary on the back,
But the greatest book you will ever read
Nonetheless
Graff1980 Sep 2015
Oh Persephone you frighten me
Dark hair falling
Arms flailing
Hailing nothing
But the darkness you claim
The pain that maims
Your reason

Pushing the razor
Harder and deeper
Sliding it in and out of your skin
Like a credit card purchasing
Temporary relief
From your grief

You say that you are poisonous
But I say you have been poisoned
The virus is in the air
On the tv
On the streets
In some of the books
In strangers looks

In the aftermath
Heart break
Takes its’ place
Followed by apathy
Till there is nothing left

And though you never cut your chest
Your heart is still leaking
Leaving
A subtle arrhythmia
Hade’s fingers
Crushing each ventricle
Squeezing just enough
To keep you alive
In agony
S Smoothie Jan 2017
God needs no defending
God is love
God is good
What is good is evident
It feels good

God needs no defending
God loves in spite of evil
God chooses us even if we don't choose God
To light The Christ in all of us

To destroy in God's name is defiling
God can love even through this misguided attempt
God needs no defending
All is done through love
For every emotion stems from it
or the lack of it

We are not separate from God
We are collectively God
We can only turn away from ourselves
Placing our faith and trust in man
and the here and now
and you zombies don't know what it means
and you keep on keeping on
believing a fake reality
As if nothing else exists
while discounting the truth in your soul
In the aether, in your heart,
God needs no defending
To do so is to believe that we are greater than the collective
That God is weak
God is enlightened consciousness
Only the blind Christ maims in its own honor
God needs no defending
God only requires choice
The choice to love inspite of evil
To choose us even if we don't choose God
To reveal the Christdom in all of us
God requires no defending
Only choice.
No religion that brings you closer to your higher self should be judged one conciousness many ways to get there.
kirk Feb 2016
Love is the most painful thing of all,
Heaven forbid in love you should fall.
Love hurts like the fiery depths of hell,
So does loving something or someone as well.
Love tears your sole apart,
And rips away at your heart.
Love destroys, kills and maims,
If you love too much things will never be the same.
So take heed this warning its really up to you,
Don’t love too much or love will destroy you too.
Namita Anna Givi May 2018
The world can't see her, she hides behind me
I take the lead but she is always around me.


The world can't see her, the science can't detect
Every second her in me, more-n-more reflect. 


The world still can't see her, religion calls her names
She engulfs; leaving me to wail as she slowly maims. 


The world can't see her, my family too
She still hangs by my neck, my sadness-her stew.


The world can't see her, nor can I
She lives through me while I barely stay alive 


The world can't see her, only she can see
She has my life, my smiles, my fears and my tears.
They have pledged their allegiance to her
While I remain to be the shell, for the world to see.
Depression is not an easy thing to deal with.
You feel so detached from yourself, it's like watching a movie of your life but with no control over it.  
This my attempt to introduce 'Her' to you.
Gabriel burnS Jun 2018
in the realm of man, beauty is a weapon that maims everyone within its reach… and ends up killing the one who wields it…
Axel Dec 2021
I got too attached to seconds
where the sun bathed in the feelings
of a moment one would dream
to catch with bare hands—
not knowing my feet maims my body
every time I spell back
all the words I used to say to you
until I'm paralyzed
by a time I should forget.
want to feel you by my side, standing next to me
chitragupta May 2019
Heart:
I have a book of songs,
a collection of antique emotions,
carefully crafted for someone
Like how seedlings germinate
inside the womb of the good green Earth
feeling the warmth of a watchful Sun

Yet I pick up another,
a chronicle sans embellishments,
A tale every bit pure, every bit unspun
A familiar fear grips me -
clouds me, maims me, ****** me
as I open it with glum expectations

But I feel myself break,
to know of my absence from this tome,
with each page I anxiously turn
Did I not deserve
a chapter, a line, atleast a word?
Maybe I will find a footnote - none!

Mind:
Oh my dear heart,
Do not expect in return something better
because you've surrendered to her memories
Equivalence is just, but justice is not a quality

How do you plan to **** the one
whom you've already granted immortality?
At the price of a pun, get a paradox free.
Tobias Forrest Mar 2014
Rain pummels fast,
leaves wildly shiver,
droplets fall with graceless sighs;
the world around in mourning.
 
The clouds in tears,
and icy water falls.
Earth shall never more be dry,
in the setting of the sun.
 
Swallowed by this pitied isolation,
with forty breaths too slow and lumbered.
Worthless beasts drown with repentance,
as their rasps are now extinguished.
 
Creation washed anew,
in isles of splendid beauty.
Prosperity untamed;
until He maims the world once more.
Alan S Bailey Oct 2015
If but for ten seconds to see you smile, to hear your voice,
Wouldn't a person fill the world with their tears
Beyond the whole of what we say is never a choice,
Burnt bridge, skies of safest planes, be it the vehicle
That kills and maims, just to hear your voice, it's all in the voice.

No one will hear you in person as often, it's not the same.

If I were to look for your visage would you appear? Show your face?
Would there be a specter of you? Every day we face our fears
Into the void of all that is lost we pay the cost
To see your face, all it is in this ruined burnt out place
A victim of wrinkles and blush, damp and dark around the eyes,

Even at war, we are all sharing the same planet in space.

Would that I could find a way to touch your skin, beyond all within,
It's a place I will never return, for life I will be lost in the dim,
The trampling the wreckage, it's all for soft skin, or to appear slim,
To see the skin it is but a vain thing but they will pay for the dream,
It's a goal they all know "we" must meet, perfect skin is bittersweet,

*Worth all of your dreams and mine, we will all get left behind...
Mary Huxley Aug 26
They walk in shadows cloaked in pride,  
With fists clenched tight and eyes turned wide,  
Their words like chains, so hard, so cold,  
Bending wills, as stories unfold.  

They claim dominion over our grace,  
Silencing voices, erasing a face.  
What power feeds this hunger deep,  
That in our tears, their demons sleep?  

To them, we’re vessels, tools, and means,  
Yet fragile hearts wear warrior’s sheen.  
They crush with deeds, they carve with hate,  
Unleashing darkness at heaven’s gate.  

How cruel the hand that wounds and maims,  
That calls love power, masked in shame.  
How can a world still turn its eye,  
When every scream’s a whispered cry?  

They fear our strength, our rise, our fire,  
So they chain our souls to quench desire.  
But we are oceans, wild and deep—  
Rising tides they cannot keep.  

In silent wars, we fight to breathe,  
With every bruise, our spirits seethe.  
Yet even when they draw their line,  
They’ll never steal what’s truly mine.  

For in these scars, our voices rise—  
No more the prey, no more disguise.  
Though fear may reign, though shadows fall,  
We stand together—unbreakable, all.
This poem expresses the pain and struggle many women face but also highlights the resilience and strength within them.
Graff1980 Feb 2019
Time takes
this pain
and replaces
it with an anger
that maims,
a mood that blames
you
for the weird thing you do.

Never been
more than friends,
but I was hoping
you would dump
those violent
cheating men.

You spent hours
telling me
all about their
cruelty.
How they make you
wonder why
you attract
those kind of guys,
the ones who lie
and lay hands on you.

Meanwhile,
I stop by
when you call me.
When I hear you cry
I play the nice guy
comfort and cradle
the cracked heart,
till you are able
to walk yourself
right on to the next
abusive ex.

Each time
I find my mind
darkened by
thoughts of
self-hate
wondering how bad
I must be
for you to see
sociopathic
sexist
violent men
as a better and
more attractive
alternative then me.

So, I try to move on
until you come along,
say that you miss me
ask me to go to the movies,
and I just jump
right back in.
Helen Mar 2014
both vaunted for a performance

One kills

the other

*maims
Flynn Sep 2020
En point across eggshells
I tiptoe terrified around the point
Tireless trying to despatch any drama
I slip as I dance, Audible cracks

It’s been like this for a while now
Heart palpations, perpetually on edge
Panic attacks more frequent
Wait... they’re entirely new

Careful attempts to communicate
How I feel, frightened for firing the kiln
What will it be this time?
Interruption of calm converse circadian

Gaslighting? Guilt-Tripping?
Derailing? Tone-policing?
“I don’t deserve to be spoken to that way”
You say, as I crumble

Endless excuses and appalling accusations
You revolting repertoire maims me
Standing shattered, ******* fractured
fragmented as the eggshell environment I navigate

suspicious of my soul, I ponder the point
I take medication now, dose has doubled
The months you spent convincing me
a counsellor captioned me manipulative

Lies. Ladles of lies.
Thank god I know now
I had a plan in place
A time and space...

Delicately detailing
Now with unsullied sharpness
From alpha to omega
My swan song
jimmy tee Apr 2014
lets call it a marrianne
its nice to coin a phrase now and then
the language will not suffer beyond the framing of this poem
a marrianne is a descriptive term of a common human trait
that magnifies exponentially with the number of human minds available
that trait is hypocrisy the art of saying one thing and doing another
in this case the matter is between peace and war
everyone wishes for peace
the arguments for war are few, but fervent when they occur
the drumbeats hard to resist, a momentum like no other
after all, war kills and maims our sons, and soon our daughters
and these precious people never ever ever recover
as empty as shells on the beach, lost to madness
and this is the definition of a marrianne:
the systematic disregard of what was once promoted using high ideals
and as a correlation: a throwaway society
Chris Oct 2018
Two Face walks without a care.
Two Face cares not to walk.
Two Face greets people everyday.
Two Face does not care to talk each day.

One face smiles and give all it has to its friends.
The other frowns, cries, and keeps to itself.
One face cheers, "Hear hear!" and supports the weak.
The other shouts, "Life's not fair!" and maims the meek

"Two Face lives to lie" some say about it.
"Two Face lies to live" say others.
"If Two Face cares to be itself it'd act one way." or so they say.
"Two Face lives to please not to be." says Two Face's parents.

None know the truth behind Two Face.
Why care for people half the time.
And turn your back on them the other?
Two Face lies and Two face hides, but why?

Two Face ignores them and goes on through his day.
Two Face never learns to live another way.
Two Face fakes its life and tells other its lies.
But Two Face knows the truth.

"Some see one face" it'd say to itself.
"Some see the other" it'd chant.
"Few see both"
"And none see the third."
This is a poem I've had on my mind for a while now, but I'm a bit disappointed with how it came out. let me know what you think. please give me your opinion on it.
Galbraith Frase May 2018
A beloved nugget of stripes
In patterns of mishap and balderdash
Feigned frameworks and gaudy hips & knees
Overpowered sugar pops, winsome hard cash

They're blondes and fairly vivid, too
Daffodils, Butterscotch, Tuscan sun, and Flaxen yellow
No blackheart is pale nor blue
Just a poor Biscotti hue
Nobody's bonafide, they're just showing off the mellow

Their words are such sharp needles
It burns, it stings, it maims, and it breaks
Narrowed venoms kindled
Maneuver you in a splendor Kaleidoscope effects

I shrieked, "save the bees!",
For they are in a fathomless pit of catastrophe
Flutter thy pellucid wings over the sly seas
Flummoxed between the avocation and the trickery

I aimed, they dodged
Straightforward to the flames and a scant of birch trees
Overdosed in farcical prescriptions,
Engulfed with many bad decisions,
They hushed me down but in my mind, I would still be yelling,
"Save the bees! Save the bees!"

Women are indeed virtuous
Yet, how come some of them became Bumblebees?
Floret power, sweet & sour
An infrequent version of wannabes
No matter how I try and aid,
It would be cheap and phooey
Only savvy kinsfolk will exploit or capitalize
These honey-bees will still strive for the polished trophies
How enlightening ♥
Clem C Jul 2013
Where is the warmth,
not of another human,
not of the parka,
fake fur wired rim,
to take
shape and protect from
the relentless wind,
that cuts and maims,
with minute particles of
ice that travel so far,
to cut and melt on your
face, sting your eyes,
bloodied and cold,
"too bad you shaved?"
you think
out loud
talking to
no one
but the cold,
the cold
that can't
hear you    for    the    wind,
that howls at your
trespassing,
still you walk,
crunching and
leaning into and
on all things the
cold has touched.

All is white and pure,
ready for a sacrifice.

If the cold could
bury you, and
embrace you,
it would if
you let it, go get it,
take it to the cold,
be a bold fool, lean
into the wind and howl
back.

But remember,
they are relentless,
they travel in pairs
cold and wind,
wind and cold,
and you are all alone,
and that is how they
will find you in the Spring
after the cold is gone for
a season, but the wind
will move over and
watch over you, howling.

don't believe me?
Just ask the cold.

— The End —