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Tate Morgan Jul 2015
A collection of thoughts and prayers for our friends their families and the whole of humanity. Written by 76
voices from around the world.

The biggest star shines, proudly announced he arrived
My lord Jesus Christ was born to witness the truth
He granted identities to all of us, lost and unknown
Taught us love, peace and harmony, while forgiving all
A. Amos - United States

An ancient mission, a veiled plan
The Son of God, the son of man
A virgins wonder, a humble birth
The King of heaven is born to earth
Adanette - United States

Winter creeps in as fall fades to an end
frost coats the ground and snow begins to drift
tis' the time of year
Christmas is near.
Alicia Schroeder - United States

Let peace on earth begin at home
And spread to friends far and near
Bringing together all those we love
"It's the most wonderful time of the year.
Ana Sophia - Canada

Little excitement triggering at night
What Santa will bring for me this night
Little wish of mine; do listen my lord
Let Santa bring this time happiness for all...
Anne - India

Egg nog, holly, and Christmas wreaths
Pointsettia's white and bright red leaves
Fat, jolly Santa and Jesus' birth
A bright star arises and alights the Earth
Anne - United States

Adorable boy wiping the blur window pane with his poky hands,
and have a wish that santa claus will bring joy through this window,
Gracefully chanting jingle bells, he became santa for his parents,
so santa given the happiness from this side of window
Anshul's Vision - India

Dreamy hot chocolate kisses
steamy snowflake sprinkled wishes
lists of who's been naughty or nice
blend together this wintry spice.
April -United States

We have no jingles or Santa Clause
We have no snow
Still we have spirit of Christmas
Love and hope
Avinash - India

Christmas in Australia,
Sun, summer heat, Christmas outside
Backyards, and Barb-B-ques
Yule tides under the stars
Barb - Australia

Soft Smells of frankincense.
pine needles of fresh scent of bright Christmas Trees
Frosted windowpanes Magical time of the year
with children playing in the snow
Benita - United States

The season of love and joy is upon us
Sunshine or snowfall, no matter the weather
Smiles and laughter, and good cheer among us
When friends and family gather together
Brian - United States

The count down starts
for the best gift ever received
let peace reign in your hearts
as you wait to unwrap it.
Cassie - Kenya

Time is right, the time is near Christmas will soon be here.
Bells will ring and folks will sing "Oh holy Night all is bright
Children will wait with anticipation for Santa to come
Hearts will be warm, and love will abound Christmas is here.
Cheryl Davis - United States

He is the gift.
Jesus Christ,
He can have our burdens lifted,
By the gift of Christ.
C. Lee Battaglia - Unites States

Wind has licked the poor trees clean
All brown and bare in desolation
All except the evergreen
Soon to be sold as decoration
C. Rose - United States

The snow flakes dance in the wind
Shining lights like a magical dream
For those holding on to promises
To find in these times their wishes.
Dayran - Malaysia

Flash floods of snow replace once august plains of paper white
Mystic rivers freeze over as December lets her true colors shine
Incandescent light spreads throughout the ethereal winter night
As chariot of Christmas comes to life for yet another fiery ride
Doorman Dan - United States

A Merry Christmas poem
Always brings me Advent Joy
As we laud the Christ Child
The Birthday of the King
Douglas Raymond Rose - United States

Shattered crystals float to the ground
Stillness lay upon sweet earth
Warmed by angels silent sound
Jesus love bless yuletide hearths
E.Noodle - United States

To the poor and sick this year
I wish a bit of Christmas cheer
From the homeless and forlorn
Stable where a child was born
Fabian G. Franklin - United States

Christmas shines shimmering bright.
Stars spotlight a dance with the snow.
To welcome a merry season with cheer and light.
Bringing peace, joy and warmth for all to know
Fran Marie - United States

Snowflake kisses, full of holly wishes
peaceful rejoices bestowed upon fellow man
warmth of hope abiding a Joyeux Noel,
& muchly good cheer throughout the coming year
Frieda - United States

Lights shimmer,bells jingle on Christmas Tree
Half asleep eyes waiting for Saint Nick
Straight from the Pole wrapped with love & care
The gifts arrived our homes with a conjuring trick!
Frozen Eyes - India

The night before Christmas is known to be magical
With snowflakes in the air and Santa in the fireplace
And a smile plastered on our child's face
When the morning comes, all the magic will be done
Haley Wilson - Canada

Distance keeps us far apart,
Despite the cheer within our hearts.
The Spirits of Yule sing far and wide,
Let their songs brighten our minds.
Hime no Yuki - United States

Stuff your face, there's more to come
Before the games, the laughter and fun
in lively repose we'll mark the feast
With music and song and family treats
IanJohn63 - United kingdom

This reminds us of the true spirit
of the season.
It is much more than the material dreams dancing in our head
peace and love are the real reason
Jacob - United States

Unpack socks,yes this year is dying.
No child on this day coming should be crying.
I would be lying if I said Christmas isn't exciting.
All joy and glee,wouldn't you agree?
John - England

When children dream each year of Christmas,
Whispers from river and mountain pass --
Touching each language, corner, and part,
Wishing this year's dreams unwrap each heart.
K.L.Goode - Canada

Family visits,
where strangers find each other.
Long lost smiles reborn,
to sister and to brother.
Kusa Da Shin Avira - United States

Shining great star from heaven into hearts
Intimate wooden barn with manger in place
Celebrate the birth of Christianity and Jesus
Who died to keep humanity sin-free and safe
Lady Ann Graham-Gilreath - United States

We danced the year's temporary rhythm
Hitting the high or low steps to each tone
Like black and white in a composition
Let's find forte in harmony made
Laury Hitch - Ghana

The festival of lights is near
"Happy Hanukah" a wish we will hear
Every sundown, one candle more
A wish for peace in our hearts will endure
Lydia Shutter - United States

Bright patterned paper parcels waiting
with ribbons gold, green and red
while children peaceful dreaming sleeping
of the stockings hanging on their bed.
Mad Englishman (Clive) - United Kingdom

Drifting droplets over Christmas Tree
Spreading white foam of cracking snow,
Santa stood beside distributing to all free
****** Mary blessed divinity from above.
M.A. Rathore - India

Son of God, salvation of man
At last unto the earth is brought--
Who will remember, indeed who can
Unless final Ipod or Bratz is bought?
Mark Teague - United states

Thoughts toward the poor, sick or dying
Yet another year passes without some knowing
Of Christmas cheer, frolics for them too annoying
All symbolism meant only for those who are growing
Martin - Ireland

The gift of love.
The gift of peace.
The gift of happiness
May all these be yours at Christmas
MBUYISA - South Africa

To one and all I would grant a gift,
blessings for the holiday season.
Hearts overfilled with a joyful lift
from the angels bright holy beacon.
Michael Greenway - United States

In this season of Christmas
Through the eyes of the child
We look up and do believe
In Peace and Mercy mild
Momzilla - United States

Better than men than me,
Make their own mark
on world
and modern history
Moriarty Mesa - United States

Red and green dress our doorsteps
as our holiday dreams of
smiles and laughter, friends and family
fill our hearts with warmth and love
Ms Jewel - United States

O heart, receive Him! "There is no room in the inn."
May that cease to be our case.
May our blessed Savior be most welcome
in our most holy place.
Nautili - United States

Flakes of snow have come to remind,
Regrets, sorrow should be left behind
Prayers, hopes n joy to everyone's mind,
Family come together for dinner and wine.
Nitesh Poojari - India

The rhythmic snow cascades and falls,
Its beauty overshadows the polar air,
And welcomes the Christmas season,
In a glorious dance the waltz …
Nisa - United States

Christmas morning, early, dark, silence abounds
Coffee in hand, watching the deer on the lawn
Waiting for the family, and their rising sounds
Is there anything more peaceful than Christmas dawn?
NoelHC - Canada

Writing out a list, while sitting in my room
Christmas is approaching everyone soon
Decorating my beautiful green tree
Fairy on top, presents underneath
Noodlebumble"Sye" - Scotland

The wheel of joyful tidings on my mind.
We celebrate love and the gift of life
Our hearts rid of hate and squalor
As we dance to the sounds of Christmas
Norbert Dwayne Weweh - Ireland

We came under the inspiration of poem
To celebrate you, often nobly, is your season come?
Delighted hands trenchant: you reign!
Creeping towards the Bethlehem to be born again.
Onyia-ota, Kingsley C. - Nigeria

The problem with his beard
when the child isn't looking
is the rustle that is heard
when he opens up the stocking
Pete Langley - United kingdom

A fire in the heart as angels sing
Young and old caroling sweet and clear
Wishes for love, and Peace on earth
Merry Christmas & a Happy New Year
Phibby Veneble - United States

Where the cold bites and snow may fall
there is always a lesson of beauty within for us all
hold the hand out, next to your own
see the unity of the season,that brings us home
Poppy Ruth Silver - United kindom

Let the tolling bells bring peace on Earth
Be the only fire, your yule-log's warmth
The only red, the cheer of holly
The only fallen … a snowflake's folly
Pryde Foltz - Canada

Excesses of the season have commenced
Remember those beyond your fence.
Beyond the reunions,parties and the food
Find in in your heart to do some good.
(Rachelle) Mara Lin - Philippines - China - UnitedStates

As we celebrate in feast this Christmas Day
may you heal our land and the sick
for your touch of love strengthen the weak
a perfect gift for Christmas Eve
Racquil - Philippines

To each in season warmed at the hearth
Soft carols play as we serenade by the fire
The little babe come of a ****** birth
We come to offer blessings of your desire
Realmwriter -United States

This Christmas cold with winter chill,
snow flows free upon the hill,
within the home, warmth from the hearth
parents give love and children laugh.
Richard Allen Beevor - Cyprus

Star of Bethlehem, snow in the air;
red suit, chimney soot, Santa beware.
The stars all sing from high above
and Christmas wraps my heart with love.
Richard Williams - United States

The warmth and love of those amassed
Gathered 'round the family tree
Brings cherished tales of Christmas past
And gifts us with sweet memory
Rita L. Sev - United States

There shone warm light on a cold night
with the angels over head
Keep watch along with the Wise-men
over this blessed child's bed
Ron - United States

Sharing the joys of sharing
sparkling how life meant to give
receiving the blessings of each day
hallmarking the key role of sharing and giving
Roy Mark Azanza Corrales - Philippines

Stockings hung,carols sung
Tinsel on the tree
Don't forget to thank the one
"Twas born in Galilee
Samuel Dickens - United States

The poinsettia alone in a darkened room
Faithfully again begins to bloom
No particular rhyme or reason
Just a beautiful reminder of Christmas season
Sharon L.H. Kelly - United States

A sunny celebration under a winter sun
never put up a tree, no presents
yet holiday spirit excites, brings fun
amidst cake, tales and dear ones: lovely time spent
Sindu - India

I found myself following the Christmas Star
To Bethlehem not too near or too far
Throughout the dessert I roamed
To meet the Christ Child at the Stable Home
SmittyJas - United States

Hoist the glass to men we once knew
those of us who passed on before
The moments shared with precious few
whose souls we knew in times of yore
Tate Morgan - United States

A feathered mess of ****** bird,
Let's feast the corpse no room for third,
Dear pudding flame cause acid nose,
Let's run it off St. Nick's repose.
Thomas - Ireland

Hope is born on Christmas Day
Bow our heads give thanks as we pray
Peace to family and all our friends
Peace to those across all lands
Tina Kline - Unites States

Another year has come to pass...
With many an opportunity missed...
Yearly resolve comes around so fast..
preceded by yuletide bliss
Timothy Woodfin - United States


Spirits or Christmases past,look on those who celebrate today
With the celebrants of Christmases to come, in life's circular way
We think of those who've past on gone, tell of times past we did enjoy
Knowing someday the child will talk of us, whose engrossed in his new toy..
Tomas O Carthaigh -Ireland

Remember Jesus love of mankind
As we celebrate the holiday
With family and friends
Spreading cheer and love to all
(Tootsie Harvey Novels) Valerie L Harvey - United States

Our lord was born into flesh and bone,
dazzling star above his manger shone,
came to pay our debt though vastly great,
that we may enter the pearly gates.
Valormore De Plume - United States

Dry sands in this winter season
Lonely may seem at heart we rejoice
Hiding vibrant happiness for some reasons
Life in this dome, still we enjoy
Willyam Pax - Saudi Arabia /Phillipines

With smiles all on the children's faces
old folks prepare stockings for the fireplace
Churches singing Amazing Grace
preparing his birthing place
Wordman - United States

"Lovebirds dance with Christmas song
Divine message make them happy
Children clatter ding **** ****
Christmas made them quite sappy"
Zainul - Bangladesh

From our family to yours please try to be good to one another this year. The Cafe is a refuge for us all to hang out, share our lives and dream

Merry Christmas Everyone !!!

Tate
Can a thought or feeling be larger than a universe? Love is the only trait that is worth remembering because it is meant to be given away selflessly. The recipient is as happy to receive it as you were to give it! To my friends those of you whom I hold dear If you'd like to be added to this years Canon message me. I will do my best to add you to this poem.
Zainab Attari May 2014
Look into my eyes and you shall see
The innocence and solitude in me
I am all alone in this massive ball
No one to pick me when I fall

Touch my body and feel
The absence of countless meals
I have dug into several bins
To find a morsel from trashed tins

I have slept on cold hard grounds
A better place, still not found
I was soaked by the pouring rains
And disturbed by noisy trains

I have played with broken dolls
Drawn with charcoal on overfilled walls
I have prayed to all the gods I know
Their love makes my soul glow

I am a child too
Don’t deprive me of you
Cuddle me in your arms
A little crave for love means no harm

I know I am an orphan
And might not even get buried in a coffin
But don’t shoo me away so recklessly
Where is your humanity?

Don’t throw that money and walk away
Please hear me out or for a while just stay
If you know of an orphanage, take me there
I no longer want to live in despair.

-Zainab Attari
I have a soft corner for children and it pains me to see them with no guardians, parents or older siblings to pick them up when they fall or cuddle them in their arms when they feel cold.
I fail to understand the reasons behind poor families growing their bloodline when they have nothing to feed it to survive. Sometimes one needs to be practical rather than emotional. :)
Anais Vionet Sep 2022
It’s Sunday morning. It’s bright and cool, the sort of fall morning that makes the world’s problems seem like fake news. Peter and I are at the Marriott Courtyard, off campus. This morning’s breakfast is Peter’s 19th birthday present to me.

I’m redorkulously happy and surprisingly hungry. Somewhere, in the noisy, happy sounding kitchen, there's a bacon, cheddar-cheese, tomato, ham, green-pepper, and spinach omelette being convoked in my name, and my tummy is growling in anticipation.

Our waiter brought us large white mugs of nutmeg coffee - God bless her for that. Sipping it, I scanned the dining room, where carefree, normal people were enjoying their brunches. They didn’t look like they had hours of reading and problem-sets (homework) waiting for them later - but who knows?

Peter leaned forward, smiling, to refill my mug and then, when adding some cream, he almost overfilled it. I couldn’t help chuckling. I enjoy this awkward man’s company beyond all sanity, to the point that it’s a little cringy and embarrassing. Our smiles seemed to clang together, like symbols. I wish I could bask in the warmth of that smile all day.

“You could do me a favor,” I say shyly, “a little extra present?” I said, trying to look pitiable.
“What?” he asks, with a skeptical look. I open my bag and pull out my latest physics PSET (a homework problem set).
“This problem haunted me in my dreams last night,” I say, smoothing out the wrinkled paper and rotating it so it was right-side-up for him. “#6,” I said, confirming that with a pointing finger.

He glances at it. “Ahh, classical mechanics?” he guessed. “Right,” I confirmed.
He looks up at me through his bushy, blue-black eyebrows, “You took AP physics one in high school and physics 2 last year?” He asked. “Yeah,” I confirmed, “but this problem is throwing me.”

“Well,” he says, motioning me to hand him my pen, “you’re perspicacious all right, but you’re basically a biology major,” he begins, “a set of studies that involve a memorization mentality. For physics one and two, I bet you memorized Maxwell's laws, the Kinematic equations and the table of equation cases, ya?”
I nodded yes.

“Unfortunately, that’s not going to cut it here,” he says, shaking his head, “All of those nice simplifications aren’t in play here - there are no cases to rely on - it’s derive as you go.” As he explained this he was briskly scribbling something on a paper napkin and the answer was there, on that, a second later, when he rotated the paper back to me.

His eyes are a dark, gingerbread brown, but despite that darkness, they seemed warm and lit from within. A swoop of his dark blue-black hair has fallen across his forehead, I leaned over the small table to tuck it back into place. “Thank you,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief, “did you show your work?” I asked as I folded the paper and napkin away.
“Of course,” he says, amused, “but we’ll review it later,” he assured me.

“Happy birthday ME!” I said, in a whispered cheer.
“Yes,” he grinned, “Happy Birthday, YOU,” he pronounced as our omelettes arrived
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Perspicacious: “the keen ability to understand difficult or amorphous things.”

Redorkulously = so ridiculous it’s dorky
I’ve run towards the fires blaze
Towards the scattered last remains
But I have not surrendered
Nor will I give up
I’ve survived alone on pride
It’s been one hell of a ride
And I’ll continue pouring
Until I’ve overfilled my cup
Em Mar 2021
Give me a kiss
I promise I won’t tell
Give me a secret
I will not spill
Give me a cup
Overfilled
I’ll give you my watch
My time
My life

Why are we skipping
Skipping on stones
Why are we dancing
Dancing at home
Why are we stepping on tabletops
Smiling at the raindrops
Marvelling
At how the world flows

Give me a kiss
I promise I won’t tell
Give me a secret
I will not spill
Give me a cup
Overfilled
I’ll give you my watch
My time
My life

Tell me a story
A story about love
Tell me a fun fact
I’d want to know
Tell me the reason you stay
The reason you wave
The reason we still smile and sing

Give me a kiss
I promise I won’t tell
Give me a secret
I will not spill
Give me a cup
Overfilled
I’ll give you my watch
My time
My life

Lie next to me in bed
We have all night
You’ll stare at the ceiling
Hand in mine
Close your eyes dear
Let them tear
I’ll be waiting for you
At the end of the line

Give me a kiss
I promise I won’t tell
Give me a secret
I will not spill
Give me a cup
Overfilled
I’ll give you my watch
My time
My life

Give me a kiss
Promise I won’t disappear
Tell my story to your children
My heartbeat to your dreams
Count the seconds to the sunrise
The seconds till the moon arrives
In this world
We don’t have much time

Give me a kiss
I’ll give you my watch
I know it’s not much
But it’s all I have
Every moment is fleeting
Every word is the last
But don’t you worry
In heaven
Everything will pass
Harmony Dec 2015
Chennai has seen another flood
After much rain overfilled lakes
Many swim on flooded roads
As if in a lake to get to destination

Houses are flooded with things
All drenched in flood water
How many lives and livestock
All drowned in the torrent
Yet to be seen when water recedes
kier Feb 2021
when you grace the garden
i am overfilled with sunlight!
an intense admiration
leaves me with sudden blossoms
of an ever gentle pink...

won't you come closer?
i don't ask of you to be mine
nor for the warmth of your hands
i simply asked to be loved
every now and then...

and when i realize my feelings are one-sided
my appearance falls apart one petal at a time
leaving me to cry among the decay
when the flower is no longer a beauty
what reason do you have to stay?
it can be interpreted as romantic love but i'm not really capable of that
michele shulman Apr 2014
'All nature seems at work ... The bees are stirring—birds are on the wing ... and I the while, the sole unbusy thing, not honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.'

My fingers can’t trace the origin of the age old euphemism
Its roots planted firmly in childhood paired with sitcom cliches
A conversation never had with my mother

I learned the moment he touched me
My mind buzzed as the sweetest nectar kissed my lips
Arms turned to wings and we flew away

The age of fourteen
A baby learning where babies come from
Innocence poured out like an overfilled glass of milk

When he left I was a hummingbird
Heart at 1260 beats per minute
Fading in and out of anxiety

He was the bee
Flew to the next delicate flower
and ****** her dry like a parasitic insect

Always told to be weary of disguised villains
Old women with apples
Wolves dressed like grandmothers
Never of the natural behavior of pollination
Wren Djinn Rain Sep 2015
The sky is so polluted but it's beautiful, isn't it though?
Feel bad, so to relax, sit outside 7-Eleven with a smoke.
With the way I hold my head you can't even tell I'm poor.
Or maybe you can, because "What's that?" You ask. It's
the loose change in my pockets overfilled to the spilling
You hear me walking, it's no-cash, it's no-wash, the half
blood broke ***. All the bad habits, no natural habitat.
Clothes from the Village feel almost as fine on your flesh
as the high class new tags from the corner off 5th/Saks
What makes you happy? What makes you happy?
With just a little more coming in you could finance your
fantasy, or get more freak and nasty. Green is the color
on top of the clouds that catches you falling before the ground.
Shuck corn, remorseless, you can get it paid. Mesmerize
at the numbers rising higher and higher, coerced too
easily to enjoy your stay. What makes you happy?
What makes you happy? The view from the penthouse
on top of the city. Pity. There's no love in the home you
built. There's no cause no effect no affection waking
you up to touch the world with the passion igniting
your eyes and pulsing out your fingertips. One step
from homelessness without one hope, but faith is
a better replacement in the end and I've got faith
in code.
Sarah Mann Jun 2018
I think I’m in love.
A dangerous longing one.
The one that holds me against my will
Leaves me begging by myself.
All alone ’til my sanity decides to rip.
One by one by one. All alone.
Were you really the one?
The one I’ve been waiting for
The one I’ve been drowning here for
Slipping under the waves of desperation
With a side ordered prescription of hope
Excuse me, allow me to make a correction,
A prescription of hopelessness.
Filled to the brim, overfilled with feelings
Mainly of distress.

Someone came to save me,
I’m not quite sure I remember
Where I’m supposed to be.
I turned them away, all is alright.
Everything is fine.
This is way things are,
The way they have always been.
I lie to myself.
The truth is far too explosive to let out.
My hopes are rising, dependent on you.
And you alone.
I suppose they always were.

The realization comes blowing in
Or maybe that’s just because
I left the window open
And in fact, it’s a gust of cold air
Still. I miss the thought
Of you and me,
Together, to be together.
How foolish was I to believe
To invest my being in your
Nonexistent living
I don’t want to wait any more.
I don’t want to be here behind this door.
Trapped.
In fear of my own shadow,
Sacrificing my life, and my nights
For your comfort, for your ego.
I refuse, once again. I refuse.  
Louder this time, echoing throughout the hall.
How are you supposed to get the best of me?
In what reality does that constitute
A fair ending for me.

I love you.
But do you even know?
Have you been paying attention...
I miss you
Maybe, not you specifically
But the idea of you
I’m craving for you, for your touch.
The way my body requires oxygen.
So does my mind with
Who I think you are to me.
Why is this reality so difficult
Perhaps this isn’t really love.
Perhaps it’s just another
One of my unhealthy obsessions.
I'm terrified of being alone,
Being by myself, that must be it.
Companionship seems to be
My only escape.
Perhaps, though I’m wrong
And it's worse than I realize
Worse than what I can see
With my own eyes.
And in fact,
Perhaps, I need you.
Better when read aloud, I'm still trying to come back to who I was. Hopefully it won't be long now.
June 25, 2018.
Odd Odyssey Poet Mar 2022
The many moving things,
moving scenes; that are stuck in between my eyes.
Look at life; and it's fragile creations,
through the window's glass.
Held on the weight of time,
those holding onto their past. But it all must change;
from the old seasons to those anew.
The many winters of cold, soon surpasses on the grass.

So many pictures, so many little things,
and so many moments. All caught in the prettiness
of an everlasting flower.
A tower plant, trying to kiss the glorious sun,
the Son of Man, and the sweetest rose.

The holies of all holies; resides inside of me.
Walking the testimonials upon my feet.
For how far have I gone to seek?
I've seen blackness, as a changing tide of darkness.
A ***** sheet; barely covering the littlest sin. But there's
still the greatest of all light within.

A Christ within me.

How are my eyes shut to the window;
and their curtains covering itself on a dream?
A dream to be free.

Freedom of will.
Freedom of speech.
Freedom to choose peace.

I scratch the tiny hairs under my chin,
biting the collar of my shirt with my dry lips.
There's no duty to being empty all your life.
No command to live that way, or any sort of drill.

But there's a thirst on my tongue,  
running down to my heart. My spirit's cup is waiting
to be overfilled. And to go on and spill.

I as myself,
only long to be spirit filled.
Holy Spirit come inside of me.

A thousand pictures in the window,
and I only long for the one picture of Him.
Latiaaa Feb 2014
There's a party around the block,
Where flamingos run and eggs fall from upstairs.
The roof is tumbling and the pool is overfilled with humans and animals,
There's a zebra and ten monkeys running through the house.
****** ******* is rising everywhere,
To the kitchen and the bathroom, to the backyard and the deck.
Balloons are scattered on the floor,
There's food fights in every room.
There's a car crashed into the wall,
People are running around in togas.
The music is blasting through the glass windows,
Everyone is jugging boos and sniffing toxins.
The bonfire is sparking with Barbie doll heads,
The smell of burning rubber spreads throughout the sky.
People are wild with horse masks on their heads,
They're fist pumping and thumping to the repeated beat.
Males and females are racing around **** in the halls,
Paint ***** and BB Guns are being fired on every window.
Glasses of broken bottles are lost in couches and beds,
People are swinging on chandeliers.
The walls start to buckle and shake,
Cops arrive but are being tazered with their own tazers.
The house is being tee-peed,
No one knows why the tub is on fire.
The music starts to get louder every second,
Tables and chairs are being thrown across the rooms.
There are piggy back rides on the front lawn,
Drug addicts are polluting the air with taboo smoke.
People are sliding down the stairway with helmets and pillows,
Many of the people are hung upside down unexpectedly.
Girls get dragged into the bedrooms,
Fights are happening here and there.
Some people are passed out anywhere,
Others are bungee jumping off the roof.
Furniture is left outside,
Lips are locking in the closet.
Fireworks are going off while people are dunking their heads in water,
Twerking is being done almost everywhere.
The house is a total wreck,
And the sun starts to rise over the horizon.

I don't know about you,
But this party was something new.
Barton D Smock Sep 2014
i.

a child’s edition of your father.  in which

the unused
scarecrow

is found
hiding
the *****

mags, the cigarettes

of a sister’s worry, and other

inanimate
markers

of accounting, meant to be

traded
for fireworks, for fat frogs
not given
to snake…

that is, had the boy
lived
to unsee

the water
he didn’t
make…

ii.

(my handle on death)
is holding
a book.

an overfilled
pauper’s
grave / transcends
its archaic

reference
to belly.  all mothers

are single.
Emaysee Feb 2015
There’s a line in a movie which goes something like “pain is good, it lets you know you are still alive”. The obvious question that I can hear you asking is “So when the pain goes away you know you’re dead?”  This inevitably leads to a conversation about life after death.
Now that topic can be dangerous if you don’t walk away from the conversation quickly enough, at one of “those” parties, you know the ones; the one you would not have gone to if you knew that the person who invited you believed in the power of healing crystals. So as the bottles of wine get emptier, the part time philosophers get louder and more opinionated about everything from the existence of an afterlife to what was the “real” message behind the final episode of M.A.S.H. And yes, I have been unfortunate enough to actually hear some overfilled part time philosopher postulate a well thought out, theory on the subject at an Italian restaurant in Brisbane and unfortunately was only up to desert so could not escape without missing out on coffee and Muscat and cigars. It was a tough call though.  Ah smoking in a restaurant, those were the days, now where was I?
So given the opportunity to choose an activity which you know involves pain, i.e.: Rugby League, running a Marathon, Childbirth or  listening to drunk part time philosophers at parties, why would you knowingly throw yourself into any of these extreme sports? Well maybe because the rewards of the end result are worth the pain involved during the activity. So that cool night in that Italian restaurant I sat through Scott’s theory, not knowing at the time if the pain of the story was going to be offset by the quality of the temptations to follow desert. And so that leads me to the reason for writing this. A friend of mine recently wrote. “Apparently any given situation can look good if viewed from the right angle. Sometimes I get cramps!”
Well my friend the Muscat was good that night, the coffee rich and earthy and the cigars cheap but free. Scotts actual theory is long gone from my head but the memory of that Muscat coffee and cigars lingers for twenty years.
I am lead to believe that cramps may be a symptom or complication of pregnancy, kidney disease, thyroid disease, hypokalemia, hypomagnesaemia or hypocalcaemia (as conditions), restless-leg syndrome, varicose veins,[2] and multiple sclerosis.
So, given that if in fact it turned out that you had one of these afflictions and the cramps lead you to discovering this fact, I would say the cramps; like my terrible dinner experience, viewed from the right angle looks good! Now off to the doctor with you, I’m off to the bottleshop.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
will Dec 2018
We're so used to violence in our schools and on the streets
that when we go home and see it it's in the back seat.

Witnessing a crime against family,
it's like we have lost our own humanity.

The plague in our minds.
Minds, mindset with no direction.

No distractions

So we take to the bottle
with nothing but empty sorrow.

We drowned in them,
overfilled with liquid hate
and pushed down by the sorrow we saw
and felt in every corner of our lives.

We drank till we thought no more...
Thoughts, Experiences, and Witnesses. I saw violence again today, in school and outside. Why can't we do more? It is me and you who have to put a stop to it. A new generation rises up, don't burden them with today's problems.
SassyJ Jul 2016
She is preserved at the greenery
fading inside the floating yellows
her mellow as the sun set strikes
face wondering on the future mirror

She longs to encase inside her cocoon
unhurt the pain pierced in her ribcage
the spent morrow of blunt perceptions
wavering the chronic deserted day

She is alone in a world of within
without the touch of the yester clouds*
the tremor of her upset is unreliable
watering the chronic ail she donned

She feels the crystal pain on the dial
rails of entrust and forgotten tense
the troubles of the self sacrifice travellers
trespassing ***** gates of wired shield

She knows when her well is overfilled
finding a self that can embrace life
the compromised placid meanders
flowing the alive esse of a today

She moans of eons undignified
trying to excavate her sinking soul
the one that made her feel like she
revealing the reality of her unusual peace

She jumps like a seasonal seesaw
illusions parading the absolute truce
a muse of delicate authentic flavours
transversing the idealised time and space

She knows herself best when isolated
when the moon sinks and the night draw
when vagaries explode in the chaotic skies
*when the pearl starry sun stares in her iris
CA Guilfoyle Aug 2013
Cool winds circling round, deep emerald ocean pond,
in dancing waves you play salty summer songs
of weathered boats and rustic harbor homes.
Seagulls perched about the lawns, some on rooftops peering down
flower baskets overfilled, spilling mad their colors on the ground.
A vacant nest amid the vines so twisty, Springtime birds have all flown
leaving remnant feathers of shell and bone.
Seaweed floats, it clings, wrapped to posts and rings
ocean otters sleeping sound at bay
in a sky of blue, changing hues
soon drifts away the day.
MereCat Oct 2014
You said:
“I’m sick of poetry.
I bet the first poet was ******
But they all just copied him.”
I said that
Poetry wasn’t like that
It was words spilling
From an overfilled glass;
They staggered and slurred
On the page until
They seemed to have a meaning.
And you said:
“Exactly.”
Amanda Fletcher Apr 2015
People say I’m loud,
I just wish my voice would carry with the wind and
into the ears of everybody who’s not asking to hear
what I’m talking about.
You didn’t invite yourself,
I invited you to hear me out.

You won’t hear me,
you’ll hear my object of choice
held high with two hands, to the sky, to the spray of your tear
gas in my eyes,
but be not blinded in sight as you are deaf to the ear,
loud and clear
you see my poison spilled on the mattress my body was mutilated on,
shoving out through my sweaty hands,
drip, drip, dripping onto the streets you defend with
your devices of destruction.

My words weight is less than a million dollars,
less than a tuition,
less than my fore father’s current colleagues
who are counting down days from suits to polo shoes,
making face on the last of their public legacy,
they don’t want a face like me writing slogans on their cities about ignorance and inconsistency.

I guess I’m not loud enough,
it takes more than volume to raise
The roof the roof the roof is on fire.
Save the pen, the paper, your voices and chairs,
your mattress and umbrellas that protect us
from your outrage at my outrageous voice
Silenced by a shield. Silenced by batons.
Silenced by political power without political people,
incorrect intentions, raging with rovers 100 feet above my head
exploding like an overfilled balloon.

You can beat my words down
but you can’t burn my furniture,
bigger than you, bolder than you, screaming louder
through a mouth it doesn’t even possess,
looking on the face of a choir, a whole choir,
asking to cure our disease.
I will hold my symbols of faith, ****, and freedom in my right hand
and swear to tell the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but the truth
until our protest has made a difference,
until my metal chairs have molded your thoughts
into signatures on a page of on a page of social justice.
It just is, bigger than you, bolder than you, louder than me,
Don’t test me, Test my furniture.
It will always be heard.

People say I'm loud.
I just wish my voice would carry into the ears
or everybody not asking to hear what I am talking about.
Well, I'm not talking,
My object speaks pretty loud.
Written under pen name Jason Red

Meant to be read aloud
Sia Jane Jan 2014
Haunted,
I glance at my reflection in the taps
by the end of the bath
I am kneeling and I plunge my head
down into the bath water
to which I poured scented oils
I feel the weight of my hair
tumble over my head
I don't breathe as my heart
beats faster
I stay under the water
I force myself to stay there
water begins to fill
into my nose and my head
it stings with the pain
I am gasping oceans of water
my head is tossing back and forth
my eyes open,
all I see is the red I paint my
nails with daily
obsessed by the depth of colour
the polish provides
my hands are flat to
the porcelain base
gasping, chocking, I refuse
to allow myself to breath
my chest tightens
I want to stay under the water
until I can no longer
stay,
with no real weight holding
my head to the bathtub floor
I rise as fast as lightening
my hair all over my face
as I sweep it aside
and the already overfilled bath
spills out onto the bathroom floor
knocking over the Sancerre
and there is nothing but my heartbeat
that I can hear,
until at last, I can hear the notes
of Florence,
her album Lungs,
coincidence, or other
Hurricane Drunk
a passing sin, to drown sorrows
in the curve of a wine glass
to dim the noise of
a war within.

© Sia Jane

---

I'm going out,
I'm gonna drink myself to death
And in the crowd
I see you with someone else,
I brace myself,
Cause I know it's going to hurt,
But I like to think at least things can't get any worse.


Florence & The Machine
Mary-Eliz May 2017
I sometimes think it could be ADD
this thing I really know is pestering poetry
it has me by the throat; it has me by the brain
now it has me in my gut, I'll never be the same

it comes when I least expect
it comes when I really don't want it
when I'm trying to do what I do for pay
it comes along brash and undaunted

I try not to do it, truly I do
but it just spills out like an overfilled gutter
"Stop" I tell her "leave me alone.
I don't want to do this" I sputter.

she's always there, that impudent muse
teasing and taunting my head
I can't get her out, I can't shut her up
even at night when I crawl into bed

she sits on the headboard and waits
for her chance to burst into a dream
then shaking me, waking me
in the wee hours she acts out her scheme

she won't take no for an answer
"I'm sleepy" just will not do
it doesn't matter if it's three AM
or if it's barely half past two

she refuses to let me just lie there
"Don't be lazy! Get up and write it;
you know how forgetful you are.
Wake up and don't try to fight it.
"

There she is, that cruel taskmaster
looking down at me with a smirk
"You'll do as I say. I won't tell you again,
Now stop whining and get to work."


she insists that I follow her orders
battering my mind till it's lame
"You may only write junk; you may only
write garbage, but you'll write it just the same!"


I clench my teeth; I ball my fists
I'll show who's the stubborn one
I'll show her who's boss
before this (oh, drat, a poem) is done!
Gary Nov 2014
Listening to the silence of the rain
Sitting in the candle lit flames

Scents of lavender and vanilla
Fill the air , I breath.
Listening to my thoughts
Re-writing some old memories

The wind is violent today
Tossing into the windows,
Is the rain.
So hard, the drops hit my glass
Running down to the ground
To be safe at last.

The puddles are deepening
Sewers overfilled
Streets overcome,
With water they fill.

There's  no electricity now
The rain has silenced,
this blackened town.

Listening to the silence of the rain
Sitting in the candle lit flames
Now all my neighbors, will do the same.
Read a book, or read your mind
Be guided by flame,
In the day times,  night.
Joanna Oz Jun 2015
I wear my watch on the inside of my wrist keeping time by the pulsing of overfilled veins.
If I'm honest, the seconds pass blurry when you are around, red pounding at the blue surface reminding my life of it's vigorous momentum as the watch face marks it's disappearance.
I can do nothing about it's circular cycle, nor the manner in which I mirror it, recycling threadbare thoughts and feelings in ostensible new purpose.
I am a walking contradiction formed of practical mysticism and coffee stained teeth, spinning poetry from numb fingertips onto the ghosts of birch trees, fleeing from my wildest dreams.
Meet me,
half way between belief and reality at the junction of duality and I'll reveal I have no true identity - no creed no name no history,
only chaotic shifting and angry bumblebees drilling sinkholes for visitors toes to curl into as they fashion temporary homes in me.
I am solar soliloquy.
Astrological antiquity curses me to orbit you habitually.
Eye of the storm, hand of the beast, souls of the many downtrodden and hungry, asking for shoulders to stand upon shaky.
Grant me your three wishes, and I will conjure infinity from our palms clasped tight in secrecy.
Tell me,
neglectful lover,
when did my beauty become a pleasurable void, to be touched
yet left unseen,
when did my spirit become matter
buried under the mind of desire and empty chatter.
Humor me,
say that the meeting of our skin is more than physical proximity say,
that you dream of my flowers growing from your ribcage say,
that the gods granted us an opportunity for greatness,
say that our kiss is a portal to Andromeda and that you could get lost there forever - I know I have.
Yet, even light years away I hear the tick tocking ticktick of my heart bleeding into itself.
I am fleeting.
I am deafening.
I am a forgetful timekeeper,

late to my own re-birthing.
Wanderer Apr 2012
Splattered black-red tinged hand-me-downs
Overfilled skeleton closets of thought and memory
Some burn like apollo's flame others are blizzard cold
Stealing into the shadowed corners of my vulnerable spirit
Assisting the grating decay of dead skin dust notes
Back stabbed into flea market food courts
Saturated with the sick sweaty grease and smoke clouds
That permeate the poor and unworthy
Judge with lashing whips, forked knives
Empty cavities hollowed from scraping **** intent spoons
Hungry, ravenous, grasping fallen angel talons ripping
Tearing seams of bleached white from safe haven gray
Not much left inside my stack of broken heart cards
Only spades and suicide kings remain
Grinning spoiled and child like from the seat of a selfish shell
Undo me
Unhinge me
I
Need
To
Bleed
Poetic T Jun 2014
Glutton overfilled,
Food for thought no starvation,
More is not enough.
Zowie Georgia May 2014
Cigarette ends tell stories,
to the untrained eye it's poetry wasted,
like an overfilled ashtray that's quickly exposed of,
so eagerly started and ending so unfulfilled,
why do we always enjoy the beginnings
when the best part is meant to be the end..

Cigarette ends tell stories,
so many that will never reach the stage,
but I wonder the most common theme.
Escape, in hail, love, loss, longing,
to the mystery of what interests me.

Cigarette ends tell stories,
memories embedded in their remnants,
so many stories,
I want to know of them.
ZL Nov 2015
Rain are my tears
so many prayers
for so many years
Heavens water capacity
overfilled,
God sends them to me,
as a reminder and gift
in hopes that I heal.
Kayla T Mally Jul 2012
By the shore there is a table
Old and rickety, to hold much 'tis not able
Upon that table is a glass of wine
Delicate, beautiful, its contents fine.
But the shore is cruel to the fragile little glass
For it sends terrible storms that pass
Over the table, the wind makes it sway
Taunting the glass, O cruel bay!
The slightest of touch will make it shatter,
Yet the shore sends the rain that comes a pitter-patter
The cup over floweth, fine contents spilled
The poor crystal seems to cry as 'tis overfilled.
This delicate glass will fall at a touch
Why must the table sway so much?
Yet all it needs is a firm hand
To secure the table to a stable stand.
Little wineglass, where is your help?
A little security is all you need.
kayla Aug 2015
uncovered comfort in
empty nothingness.

outer space and
fields of wildflowers.

drunk on orbits.
jumping off skyscrapers filled with dust.

consuming vases overfilled with memories
and scattered pieces of home.

dark matter summoning tranquility.
wordvango Nov 2014
Into a Dollar General I brave
scalp and pillage
looking for a new hatchet, a new pair of mocassins,
a cheap gift for Pocahontas!
Only went to the General,
because my horse was tired and overfilled,
with Thanksgiving oats and felt weird in the pilgrim hat I had on his head.
was too far to go all the way to Wal-Mart.
Sorry, so bad ! I apologize S Creeker
to Rick
had to do it!
Max Neumann Jan 2021
on the route of longing, i met you
don't know where you are now; where are you?
my hands are covered with silver sweat
and i am looking for a soul mate

how long will we overlook each other?
at which day will we unite like halves
that become an entirely new creature?
in the moment of sweet oblivion...

the streets are overfilled with ***** beings
are you one of them? are we two of them?
i'm looking for unreal love, you know
just for an idea, maybe for a mate

the difference is located in our greed
the golden lion with the twinkling mane
was roaring me into the land of dreams
is this a correct sentence in english?

can you help me to find you? how?
it's unbearable to be lonely
isolation is a grey, howling wolf
an animal, too close to me, go away

of longing and greed is this poem
its first part revolved about drugs
the second part is about you, babe
if i could only spot you in the masses

will we arrive together at the beach?
you know, in this old hut, close to the waves
it's always warm there, baby, every day
a nice place for kids; an arrival's place
Devin Weaver Aug 2016
The dream is one of life’s great ironies
A word overfilled with the vaguest hopes
A word impalpable, of fantasies
And yet, the tangible within its scope
When nightmares leave us restless and afraid
Mother soothes her child with “it’s just a dream”
But when bold men dreamt of what they then made
Matrons held those thoughts with profound esteem
Each is urged to trace whimsy’s beaconed path
For boys and girls can be all they desire
Heed not reality, nor aftermath
Set reverie, each night, newly afire

I found this same paradox to apply
When I dreamt of you, my deluging love
Saw heaven in the depths of your brown eyes
But sleep’s hellish guile pained my heart thereof
You smiled at me and walked amid soft light
Under a glowing willow tree, we met
For hours, as friends who were once lovers might
We merged with warm embrace our silhouettes
I cried for joy to hold what seemed so real
Lost in you, I forgot of earthly time
And to have foregone breath might bear appeal
For, in that false world, you were truly mine

This sweet conceit is such a cruel scheme
For, when I wake, it’s always just a dream
Max Neumann Dec 2019
my past is filled with oedipal encounters:
many men i needed to rival

today i unintentionally travelled (really?)
today i involuntarily travelled (no way)
today i travelled into my past:

memories of many men that i needed to rival.
due to my fatherless childhood i didn't have
a man to compete against; that's why i JUMPED at countless chances to do so. none of these conflicts happened by chance.

i picked strangers to compete against.
but then there was this day. a certain day. a secret night.

since then, i have gradually and later on gently overcome my need to compete.

i was bewildered today because i competed against another man. why?

out of the dark, i developed an affection for a woman younger than me; a brief moment of ****** interest. the competitor involved walked her home after a meeting the three of us had been together.

while they were strolling down the street, i followed them. i wanted to see what they were doing. i wanted to observe how they observed each other's attraction.

did so for a couple of minutes; they didn't take notice of me; or they were playing dead while their mouths were overfilled with squishing sounds of saliva.

and then ––  as promptly as old patterns of rivalry had emerged ––
i lost my affection for this young woman.

affection left my soul like a spirit leaves a dead body. the affection vanished into thin air since it couldn't find a shelter in my soul. so this wired affection went on a quest for another creature.

i didn't say goodbye. just wrote something down.
Inspiration for this poem gained from YouTube: "Native American Flute Music: Meditation Music for Shamanic Astral Projection, Healing Music"

— The End —