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Autumn moves fast through the tunnel of love
Push from the top; bottom falls from above
Dangling leaves are flexing about
Dreaming of hope is a nightmarish shout

Cackle of ghouls; a shivering spine
All that is due will be due in due time
Whispering wind softly kisses my cheek
Lifetime of searching; know not what I seek

Darkness emerges as light fades away
Tried to hold on knowing no one can stay
Feeling alive only once I am dead
Listen but don't hear a word that is said

Roar of a flame, the warmth of the light
Fireball streaks interrupting the night
From the ashes we rose and to dust we return
Heart made of ice will not sooth what’s been burned

Holding my breath and not rising for air
Promise to no one the nothing I share
Hugging and squeezing a cuddly toy
Faded reminder when I was a boy

Roar of a racing car traveling fast
Linear stories that live in the past
Afternoon stroll through the paths in the woods
Wasn't enough when it’s all that I could

Didn't regret not regretting a thing
Perfectly still while I sit on the swing
Lazy and careless; the problem I tackle
Chained here forever without any shackles

Future and past presently now amuck
Free man who's also imprisoned and stuck
Roaring, the waves speaking softly to me
Shouting a message using secrecy

Cackling rooster call to end the day
Adult you become but your parents can't stay
Ending's begun and beginning ends near
Enveloped in fog; then it all became clear

Through stutter and stammer, I clearly can speak
World’s strongest man; I am fearful and weak
Worldly observer, I travel through life
Don't leave my house; Live alone with no wife

Peacock with confidence strutting my stuff
Have had my fill but not yet had enough
Nothing I fear but much fear have for it
Blowing out candles that never were lit

Bellowing cheers of "hip-hip hooray!"
Round of applauds for those who've died today
Subtle of strikes from a blatant attack
Gift you are given; already took back

Slapped with audacity right in the face
Composed with the utmost politeness and grace
Then without allergy, still my body reacts
Calmly I sit through a panic attack

Telling a lie until it becomes truth
Speaking with stature his words are uncouth
Deafening silence rang shots from the gun
Finished a race that has not yet begun

"Rule" one time "Golden", now covered in rust
Did what was needed but not what I must
You can be anything but yet nothing you are
Traveling often but didn't go far

Properly set for no expectations
Biased perception began at creation
Feet on the ground and head in the clouds
On display while naked and exposed in my shroud
Written - April 6, 2017

All rights reserved.
nosipho khanyile Jul 2018
I looked at society in the eye
and asked her
why she's so flawed.

she glared at me before saying that

I cannot antagonize her
when all she did was
give identity to a lost world
Alysia Marie Nov 2014
Come sew buttons into my eyes, and allow me to believe all of your lies.
For the beauty of love shall seep deep within; even if perception is fogged by your sins.

                                     Alysia Marie 2014 ©
Sebastian Macias Mar 2017
There is a lot that happens
Throughout the lifetime of a day
24 complete hours of life
Wake up daily, move forward
Know that change is occurring
One afternoon you'll look back
See the last 5 years, changed
You might feel like day to day
Seems the same
The job, apartment, drinks, women
All change, eventually, inevitably
Don't think for one second
That change won't come
It always comes, so work for it
Stay in front of change
You can create change
By moving forward,
Remembering everyday will not last
That change is everywhere
B L Mar 2013
I scream to drown the noise, fight to hold my poise
Against this sonic wave that dismantles and destroys
This place that I called home… It’s all that’s left of what I own.
I fear I’m destined to the desert, or somewhere desolate to roam.
Tried to convince my brain this wasn’t real – that lies are all I feel.
I’m not sure why I fear this noise;
There’s nothing left for it to steal.
Yet I plug my ears and scream; tear the stitching from my seams
I find it difficult to sleep, and near impossible to dream.
I scream so hard it makes me sweat, and my skin begins to gleam
This heat turns smiles into tears, like water into steam.

My head begins to ache; my hands begin to shake
If I chose the wrong path, I made one hell of a mistake.
While my lungs still permit, I’ll keep their volume set on high,
Lift my head to the clouds, and scream at the sky.
I have yet to hear an answer, and while I’m not much of dancer
I learned some steps from Lady Luck in hopes to cure me of this cancer.

Now, I don’t believe in luck – but she still left me with something.
While we danced I took notice; the noise dulled slightly to a humming.
I looked back to Lady Luck – and I’m sure this wasn’t just a dream –
But she had vanished to the air, like water into steam.
I said “I don’t believe in luck.” She still left me something, though.
She said “You can’t predict the world – I assume this much you know…”
“But if a farmer plants a seed, in that spot a plant will grow.”


One day, my throat gave out.  For no longer could I shout.
And I don’t believe in luck, so I was simply left with doubt.
I cursed that lady’s words; told myself that she was crazy.
When something caught my eye…
There - at my feet - grew a daisy.
A daisy… In the desert…
And despite how bad my head hurt, I thanked God for Lady Luck.
I thanked God that I had met her.
For the noise I heard was her opposite. It was the presence of chance.
I learned the farmer can’t predict the world, but his seeds grow into plants.
So since my only choices are my actions... I think I’ll take today to dance.
Life and Time
are an illusion
only in the minds
of we humans.
All other living
things on this Earth,
pay to either, not the
slightest attention.
The human brain is a
marvelous tool, until
we over think everything.
Perhaps innate animal instincts
are better. When our mistakes
and greed lead to ruin, who
then will survive? Us or them?
Kara Jean May 2016
Knowledge, is not always wisdom.

Wisdom, is not always knowledge.

Strength, is not always shown through muscle mass.

Muscle mass, is not always shown through strength.

Love, is not always kindness.

Kindness, is not always love.

Changing our point of view, helps produce a clean perception.

Be humble enough to notice when our point of view is breaking.

Changing is not giving up, it's simply adjusting.
Gabriel burnS Jun 2018
don’t let all those flowers deceive you
clouding judgment with flower dust
and the charm of colorful aroma
they have agendas of their own
and you are but a step in their ladder
Mystic Ink Plus Jul 2018
One of the leader
Once planned
Poverty eradication

How?
Someone interrupted

**** the Poor
That simple

[Silence]

Breaking the silence
He said
Raise your hands

No one did
No one did
No one did
No one did
Genre: Observational
Theme: Advocate Of Truth
Dons-Social Work-Politicians-Crime || Frequently they Shuffle
zuMee Apr 6
…………..…to   every....................
……...…poetic   moment………..
……......……..its   angle…………...
……………......of   *******….
Madisen Kuhn Sep 2018
i could be that girl
whose voice is low and melodic
and coats your mouth with
acacia honey
whose eyes are the color
and depth of
midnight
whose presence is thick like
new york summers
rosy like
los angeles in early spring
if i braid flowers into my hair
if i write enough poems
if i learn to show the skin of my essence
but remain an abyss—
i will stop making art
when i become it
Priyam Jul 2018
He stood dedicated to a cause,
Which he didn't perceive well,
And lo! He faulted, and behold! He fell,
A story worth to tell.

He dreamt of ridding the world of its,
Dark and Cruel sight,
But he failed to see all the light
and love by his side.

So he perceived them all with hate,
And shunned them out alike,
And stood dedicated to his cause,
Becoming Dark and Cruel with all his might.

-Pri
Ricky Oct 2018
I see this guy at work sometimes.
He looks drained.

Eye lids halfway down.
Neck dropped.
Walking so slow, as if he wants slow down time.

To his left there are kids playing with cups, he looks at them and smiles. I guess that brought back memories of feelings of freedom.

To me freedom is having no fear.
I don’t want to fear paying bills on time, I don’t want to fear trying to create an image people would accept. I don’t want to fear the reality that maybe my life isn’t going the way I’d hoped.

I want freedom from all that.

But “realists” love to say that’s just how life goes.

In African American History class, my teacher told me that Harriet Tubman only saved about 60 slaves, and most of them were family, but there’s a quote from her that says ‘I could have saved thousands - if only I’d been able to convince them they were slaves.’ And that got me thinking. Back then some of those slaves probably thought that that’s just how life goes too. “That’s how things are supposed to be”

Well **** that not me.
I’ma challenge “reality.”
Maybe that’s not my reality because maybe reality can just be your own perception of it.
Mixed in with a little hard work.

So I’ll change what I listen to, I’ll change what and who I’m around because “sweet love and sunshine, if it’s all in the air, then it’s all on your mind.”
Live Ya Life.
Only one chance to get it right.
Kara Jean Jun 2016
Perception is a sickness we conceive.
Letting people control our reactions.
Changing our level of satisfaction.
There is choices in every emotion we produce.
Being offended is a feeling we have comitted.
What you say or do has no effect on my rationality.
Unless, I let your insecurities influence how I carry my body.
Addressing our contaminations helps open our eyes.
No longer being victimized by the lies others drown us in.
We can make the decision to keep opposition or let it roll down like rain.
Having positivity in all is an unlikely belief.
However doesn't mean it can not be studied.
Self control, dedication and confidence is the mixture you need.
Do not wallow in self inflicted misery.
All it takes is you to make a change.
There is no other reasoning it really is simplicity.
Miss Saitwal Aug 2018
Places where we go and free our headspace,
spreading our  hands and feeling the raindrops.

It felt like an unique amalgamation of fright, fury and pure joy.

Fright of all the obligations barged on the soul.
Fright of not being with the right people at the right time.
Fright of falling on our own feet.

Round & round on the playground,
with an overwhelming typsy feeling.

The joy of sliding on the slippery dip,
touching the sky hanging on the swing.
The breeze touching the feet, playing with the hair & ticking the ears, until we fear to fall on the ground.

The alarming feeling of how precious our life is.
The joy of constantly working on ourselves to improve in life.
The joy of keeping ourselves first.
The joy of not missing out & living in the moment;

The joy of emphatic long conversations,
The joy of selfless efforts with no expectations.
The joy of doing the right things,
always at an unsuitable time;
The joy of being intutive over calculative.

The joy of spending fruitful earnings;
& believing in karma.

Feeling no need to explain our way of doing things
& doing what makes us feel good about ourselves.
Absolute joy of not being too ******* ourselves.

All joyful things go wrong, because it is their job to.
We make all dreadful things right, because it is our job to.

It all makes sense now,
We must get up,
spread your hands,
feel the raindrops,
and say,

“We made it all worth.”
nosipho khanyile Jul 2018
if life is a perception
let my eyes be
the illusion
that pitter patters
on your skin
all over your body
into your mind
then soul
opening the door
to your reality
Q Jan 20
here's a string
a piece of me
un-thread me with my willing glee

i shift my gaze
allowing haze
to fog my vision, blame cabernet

reaching through
i grabbed your hues
just memories woven in rosy blues

not lust beneath
nor salty wounds
left bare and clean, my soul to rule


s.q.




.
Order perfects creation
Willie May 22
Look through the eyes of a child
see only pure things
See only the innocence
not what evil brings

Wonder as a child
about the future not the past
faded memories do not concern you
they have all passed

Seek those who make you smile
Make others smile too
Seek happiness for others
And they will bring you theirs too

Never lose the sparkle
of childlike innocence
of naivety and wonder
as I have
island poet May 2018
“Moby ****,”  Herman Melville

<•>

~for the lost at sea~

after a year of saltwater absence and abstinence,
return to the island caught between two land forks
surrounded by river-heading flows
bound for the ocean great joining

the Atlantic welcomes the fresh water fools,
bringing with them hopefully, but hopeless gifts of obeisances,
peace-offerings endeavoring to keep their infinite souls

sea accepts them then drowns the
warm newcomers in the unaccustomed
deep cold salinity, which
sometimes erodes
sometimes preserving
their former freshwater cold originality

I’m called to depart my beach shoreline  unarmed,
no kayak, sunfish or glass bottomed boat needed,
walk on water and my toes, ten eyes to see the bottom,
no depth perception limitation,
reading the floor’s topography,
millions of minion’s stories infinite,
many Munch screaming

god’s foot, heavy upon my shoulders,
a daytime travel guide, hired for me,
not a friendly travel companion,  nope,
God a pusher showing off a drug called deep water salvation,
designated for the masses, can handle large parties

my in-camera brain  eyes,
record everything for playback -
the lost and unburied, bone crossword puzzles

walk shore to ship, on soles to souls,
is this my new-summer nature welcome back greeting?

puzzled at the awesomeness of vastness,
conclude this clarification for me of the occluded-deep,
is a stern reminder of my insignificant existence,
my requirement to walk humbly, spare my sin of vanity, and
forgive my trespasses upon the lives of others

perhaps then the infinite of my soul perchance restored,
older visions clarified and future poems
will write themselves
and sea to it my predecessors
be better remembered

Memorial Day 2018
Tete Rudo Jan 21
We are all
Bricklayers
In life

Some are laying bricks
Some are building a wall
Others are building a cathedral

The power to choose which
Is yours.

All yours!
Jessica B Jul 2018
A constant is control
Your every surrounding contains a constant
Constantly ever changing
in what ways are we shaped by our own constant?
Our society?
How does it mold our perception?
it is but a constant
I am who I am
I can only hope that
creativity defines me
As my flaws weave through each definitive line of my life
And My colors define me with each shade of its own
It was once spoken that
“Imagination was greater than knowledge”
Because It is all its own.
Creativity is freedom ❤️
MaxiM Jun 2018
Dark clouds do not point to a storm,
just as clear sky's do not point to calm winds.
MaxiM16: Assumption
Clueless Oct 2018
What's real to me
May not be real for you.
I may see red
But you might see blue.

So,
What's really real?

Reality is only a perception
And exists only in one's head.
I completly rhymed on accident, yay go me!
robot mom Jan 2016
Admire the proportions, the features, the confidence.
These are supposed to define the ideal male.
These things have nothing to with my perception of ideal.

When I put myself in that position.
I call myself Michelangelo, David in front of me.
I admire his proportions, his features, his confidence.

I throw myself so far into the fantasy, reality becomes a fog.
Enamored by him, his features, our closeness.
I am entranced by him, we transcend into the unknown.

I return to reality, and realize that I've gone too far.
I can't take back the words I've said,
or the time I've spent staring into his eyes.

But I'm no Michelangelo and he is not David.
My inspiration is much closer to my heart.

The love in my heart.
The passion beneath the gaze.
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