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William Eberlein Feb 2013
You stick to my thoughts like an adhesive.
Ever wandering the canvas of my mind.
You travel at the speed of light,
through the nonexistent confines of oblivion.

Foreverness...
Without time, space or action.

The deeper I go,
to hide,
to get lost,
to be alone.
To think a thunking thought!
The closer you seem to be.
The tighter you cling to my chest.
Warming my heart and crushing my lungs.
You squeeze the words from my mouth,
without ever touching me.

The sun looses all essence of light and life when compared to you.
Like an ember among the black atoms of nothingness.

And if you were stripped of all that you are...
I could,
and would,
love you for this alone.

Yet, oh how I hate you for it.
patty m May 2014
Overturned are my
struggles to find the jewels of the sun.
A stealth of time, purveyor of death,
watches me constantly.   He is the sole survivor;
bag of bones, a Lazarus, rising from the grave,
his dark half my constant shadow.
Shrouded in mist the ghost moon rises.
I feel snared in its web of dreams.

Null regions, temp idle chance,
The Mirrored Realm on high,
indeterminately drifts.
Dog Chewers battle the Serpentine Lynx'
their violence flares.
                 Hugging the thorn-bush
I become both **** and victim,
making frightened noises
while rooted to the spot.

Then a brief interlude as War-birds fly over,
and the hunters flee their domain.
The shore line winds bone-white
past deserted fishermen's shacks as
gulls shriek eerily over a turbulent sea.

Vaporous thought, as a perpetual chill
seeps through my skin,
how I yearn for yesterday's blankets,
but yesterday was years ago.

I slip into oblivion, boulder-gray
blown about in frantic wind gusts.

Suddenly tiny creatures
descend through the darkness;
each small hand holding a glowing ember,
as they flit on tiny wings
offering hope from up above.

I stare, dazzled by sunlit-ice
no mouth of death, this,
but a luminous feeling of well being.
Now descending  is a glorious presence
scattering  goodness upon the earth.
Two embers she gently places in my hands,
jewels of the sun,
                 see how they gleam and flicker,
or could they be stars?
I like to.....

to drink a cup of coffee
to listen to mellow tracks
to sit beside the window
to stare into oblivion

as I think of you,
as I watch my teardrops fall down from the sky,
as I watch them turn into floods of emotion
as I feel the cold breeze remind me your touch
as I taste coffee turn into blood
as I listen to mellow tracks become as enraged as myself
as I sit beside the window with the rain pouring on me
as I stare into nothing    


...as I think of you
    in hopes that you're thinking of me too  

these are the things I crave for on rainy days
but what I crave for the most is you
Does it rain only on my side?
Valsa George Jan 2018
Mind, like a deciduous forest
has lost all its foliage,
all leaves torn away
by the autumnal blasts

The brain where great schemes were concocted
is now an abyss where spiders sway
It is bare – dismally barren
of all memories – sweet and sour
Like a kite afloat in the boundless sky
moving nowhere, but as the wind directs,
cut out from the past, turned from the present
with the future yet to surge from the abyss
or like serpents intertwining,    
hissing in turmoil within the brain,
unable to sense the gusty blast,
or hear the whispering air,
dead to sounds that disturb,
deaf to songs that soothe,
like a phantom he moves weird,
drifting far away
to a space and time impenetrable  
with nothing to make the mind agog
or depress it to let out a sigh.

Loitering on roads without hurrying feet
with no bliss coming on the way
to run or hasten to embrace
or fear to be missed sore
passing through dark labyrinthine tunnels
forever barred with no exit
churned in oblivion, oblivious of all,
he remains a spectral facsimile
of his onetime self
plummeting into a black hole

The pulse of a heart beat
is all that keeps him alive,  
all else is dead…… !  
with dreary nights ahead
that shall not know another morrow
Only others can throw a little light in the dark lives of its hapless victims!

(With a heart heavy with gratitude, let me acknowledge my poet friend -  Kim Johanna Baker who gave sunshine to my poem who has thus honored me several times !)
chloe 7d
You were standing there
An empty expression painted across your face

A tear rolled down your cold cheek
You stepped towards me
You whispered into my ear
Are you okay?

I smiled
I locked my hand with yours
I will be soon

We walked into oblivion together
The dark void of nothingness consumed us
We were okay now
Raven Jun 2017
Witness to eyes that don't fall on me -- bury me into Egyptian sand and
let the mirage spin me into oblivion.
Gilly Sama Jul 2016
Pink cheeks pluck from your smile
Enticing me to your touch,
Cruel admirations lurking
I was lost hoping.

Rose as white as your lies,
A fake reality I was with.
Tearing me apart,
Grasping my breath to oblivion.
Ming Sama // Poem No. 9
Do I have a tongue,
Can I speak too?
In this strange world,
Am I a human too?

Do I have a heart,
Can I live too?
In this strange land,
Am I alive too?

In the midst of Oblivion,
I search my visions,
I once used to dream,
As a young teenager,
In Sea of Paro s
I try to remember,
The faces of people
I had once lived with
Father, mother, brother
Of all those people
I had once called family.

I came here as girl,
I am shared in the family,
I born plenty children,
I am sold and re-sold
In and around
To any men who
Can afford to buy,
I am kept but
Seldom married,
Each street have
it's own paro,
They all have
But the same story.

After some years
I cease to exist,
For the people
Who bought me
I am an old cattle
Who no longer
give them pleasure,
I am now a burden
A liability soon
To be shedded..

They don't throw
me though,
They leave me alone
In a small room,
I have become a mother
Of a girl or two
I have new family
But no identity
fits me ever,
When I come here
I became a Paro,
When my times up
I die a Paro!!

Paro is short for
Pardesi, a foreigner,
I am the girl
Bought for men
From another land
Into there land,
To born son's
For there motherland.

This is ordeal of
A soul that once lived,
Now it's just a body
With no role,
No fiction this
It's a real story
A reality of some
Distant land !!

That land for you
Is so very strange
Where eight young man
**** a pregnant goat!
And the strangest
thing is they
go away and
Roam scot free..!!

Soon the elders in the village
Will have a big meet,
They will give compensation
To the owner of the goat,
And free from the sin
There precious young boys
The martyred goat
Will also have new name,
And so it will soon
Be christened to
A new species of
"Paro"-
a first of it's kind
A Welcome from
an animal world!!

And so I ask again
Do I really exist?
What form of life
Do I have here?
In this strange land
Are they human too??
Does even a little atleast
A thing called
Humanity exist???

Sparkle in Wisdom.
1/8/2018.
Amanda Oct 2018
Awakens to a new day like thousands before
Gone from sight, searches for hope
On the cold dirt she solemnly walks
No trace of possibility in her scope.

"Are you okay?" I long to ask her
Easily seeing she is everything but
Each inch of her body quivers
Lights are off, her heart is shut.

A complex cavern of misunderstanding
Sensory overload dreaded routine
Treacherous image none bothered to question
Screaming child stuck in an eternal daydream.

Starlight mimicking a faint compass
Guiding through the map surrounding
The world gives conflicting directions
Lost in the atlas, heartbeat starts pounding.

Putting trust in uneven difficult terrain
She drags her broken spirit along
A replica of the beauty she once captured
Her touch gentle, bravery strong.

Tossed by foamy waves
In the streets, out at sea
Tired and hungry, long ago spit out
After being chewed by cruel society.

Down and out, no longer expecting
The universe to show any remorse
Bearing her misery alone in the chaos
Oblivion the destination marking the end of her course.
This isn't about anyone in particular although I am the inspiration behind it. This is one of the more vague non-personal pieces I've written.
reaching for oblivion
falling short
searching for a reason
to end it all
infamy is beckoning
make the call
tails we're on a winner
heads will roll
Waiting for Oblivion
A force starting to become drown
in oceans of silence around him
A "time clown"
Laughter, inside of his insanity grows from the halls of uncertainty

Cold waters of future's question pour from his soul
Back into the already unpredictable waters of existence
No boat to carry him
Tight inside..his life situated like a goldfish inside a goldfish bowl
Across and all over a bitter salt-drenched Soul It remains..Raining..
Waters flowing..A dark force growing
Lack of relief as help through these tortuous hours
His darkness cannot run from it
What light that is left inside of him....the force aims to discard such

Knowing...Feeling faded from never being heard from his loud cries
Those about who fail to understand why he calls them out
He remains as strong as he can remain
doggy Paddling
Until his head is drug down and his muscles start to fail
to paddle him afloat
He shall keep in this cycle of pain
Which is like a beautiful castle kept unvisited by a deadly
and dark moat
The test is "now" in such quiet and lengthy times
As he copes until the answer to his shouted question arrives
Through these long and untested rimes.
Rohan Press Aug 2018
i can't recreate the
memories of
you, crumbling

into dust, falling
into open spaces: we stumbled
from

oblivion to
your heart.
look me in the eye and tell me that you love me
or was it all a sad story that you unconsciously believed
while you raided the fridge and fornicated wildly
too late is not really an acceptable position
and later on is usually an example of indecision
and sometimes specimens reject their predicaments
especially if they are eventually going to be your dinner
i am sure that i am here to usher in a new authority
resurrected like a phoenix i must be stronger than before
so even if forever is often equivalent to never
and september is the month of seven (or was it nine) serpents
that are to be reborn in the dawn of Time's obsidian
as our minds have spent oblivion in the forges
of turgidly engorged shores, torn from their former continents
as forms are always gripped in hands who choose intolerance 
take administrators, lawyers, bureaucrats and clerks;
as examples of this; par excellence
Elicia Hurst Jan 21
.
to Emilia,
you are the method to my madness


I will cry my heart out now
for every hypothetical tragedy.
I’ll break my heart now
so I don’t have to— in another life,
or a life yet to come,
drown myself in some apocalyptic loss.
Unceremonious

departures. Haunt me for life.
Mourn you for all the ways you’d die.
Prepare myself for inconsolable grief
in a simulation of a graveyard.
Tombstone upon tombstone:
Dug, prodded, buried, sunk.

My dear,
to my dismay, you are but a mortal,
implicated in the immortality of love.
In the book of all conclusions,
written in an indecipherable tongue,
your name engraved in feeble marble,
an expiration date in bright, blinding red.

How can we cheat Oblivion?
How do we defy Death?

You shrug with a confident nonchalance.

What is Death to Love Imperishable?  
What is Eternity of a moment to Oblivion?

We are in the dress rehearsal
for the season’s première and the grand finale.
The Universe has been on our side all along,
it’s poured every blood, toil and tear into
years of conspiration and orchestration,
for our one delicate point convergence.
One chance against all odds.
One intersection against all parallels.
So come what may—
Take my hand and break a leg.
Jan 2019
.
When I die
I'm going to sigh with relief
(And if there is no after life
then I already accomplished what I want)

If the higher being asked me what I wanted to do
I would say "too sink into oblivion"

But thats too selfish
So spread my soul out thin
like you are scadering my ashes
Throw my soul out into the ocean
I will comfort all the sunken ships
Or lay me in the dirt
I will be compost for the grass to grow

Just please let me be a part of nature
I want to become a part in something that is bigger and beautiful than humanity
ghostbroadcast Nov 2018
Why would you trade a future for a friend?
Looks like this is the end
Better say our goodbyes
Don’t let them see us cry

How can you just walk away
After all of these years?
The good times and the bad times
All the screams and cheers

Don’t walk away from me
Don’t turn your back and go
You’re the only one who saved me
When the shadows changed me so
What will I do when you’re gone?
Your silhouette is all I can hang on to

Will the skies exist tomorrow?
Is oblivion far, far away?
Will sentiment reap my sorrow?
Sunshine don’t matter if my mind’s a sky of gray

How can you just walk away
After all of these years?
The good times and the bad times
All the screams and cheers

Will the skies exist tomorrow?
Is oblivion far, far away?
Gone but I can’t follow
Now my sky is gray

Don’t let them see us cry
Time to say our last goodbyes
It looks like this is the end
Cause why would you trade a future for a friend?
Recollective thoughts of oblivion detailed to detailed satisfaction
Hadn't asked why from before-ance, t'was more an extremity of non understanding then
Asking the questions to fixate as an individual has its time frame
Sky is blue and white it appears
the full Moon was out yesterday
The light was not so shady
the clouds a darkened mist
The stars a faking glistening bliss
It was all about the aces
the places
and not the faces...
to be continued

© 2018 Clarissa van Vreden
Nico Julleza Oct 2017
It seems simple, like all used to be
It might be normal, like everyone's daydream
We would run in endless circles—
In fields of autumn cling, wading ogles—
When this used to about you and me

The sky was glowing like your cotton cheeks
Marks passionately from kisses of your lips
We would scratch out scars Avast
From every unpainted fence that pass
In moments it was me hoping— will it ever last

As we drift up to that very hill— I envisioned
The grass was as different— different,
Different and effervescent than I ever known
And we'd lay blind feelings, forever in making
But it was you who decided to let it go

We only saw one tree, maybe one dotted line
Not knowing all is going to be— a doleful red
One horizon, everything used to be fine
When time stops you to be—
And someone took you from this arm of mine

Never it was the same or even has it been?
It would even stench fake perfumes
I was pushing to believe on what to be unseen
And where I stood, Died— of barren thirst
My sense, which was all left but never heard

And as I broke from your crimson goodbyes
I thought of every promise— A perfection,
And every commitment— An exaltation
But a solitary torment, only to know I'm trap
Oblivion, still my feeling keeps pulling you back
#Crimson #Goodbyes #Broken #Love #Nature #Tragedy

How Love can Hurt in a Million Stab's and how you tend to visualize the Good memories before the Goodbyes

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
M G Hsieh Sep 2018
The fire, the foal, a coming of age
in the light of the darkness
be still.

Faithful, adjourning
take flight in the stars.
Wind gushes.

Away, you fools!
Grasping the straws
of camaraderie.

We light
we sparkle
then fade


Amen.
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