Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Alice Wilde Jul 2018
She was born of a forest
And rests her heart  
Shallow in pooled dreams
Dripping further than her tears
Falling to soft earth.

She eats rosed lilies
And pickled cattails
All while
Her footsteps leave no absence known
As her lithe nymph body melts into foliage.

And her arms permanently reach
Into the void of
All unknowable things.
Grasping at gossamer threads,
Like thoughts that can't be spun together.
Anne J Nov 2018
handles of time click
permanently forward without an
eraser or a reverse
Lately, I've been thinking about the embarrassing, pathetic things I did when I was younger. The saddest thing about the difference between the past, present,and future is that there is one that you cannot change the events. We all know which one I'm talking about, unfortunately. :(
Ruby Nemo Nov 2018
you've stained me like a burn
a sizzling cyst that persists
tainted my perception through gore, imagine
twirling eternity between *******
oh love, how you've lost
and abandoned assuming good sides of me
a scratch unexpected
I never could have guessed it
don't speak, I am only a ghost
altered visuals because of your preference
don't push me, I'm high on the ground
through stammers and handshakes
I'd lose in the end
but honey, worry not for your misaligned friend
in a way, I'd have liked you to stay
so I could disappoint you everyday
that look locked on your face
it's fatal, humiliate
bring divinity into a life so uncommon
and tossed for the sake of desire.
11-03-18
Americans, well, at least in the media believe that the way to change behaviors is to punish either criminally, civilly or socially anyone who doesn't fit the societal norm.

Think about that for a minute,

...when someone is emotionally conflicted to the point that their behavior is no longer considered within a range of acceptance and THEN society decides, or any group, movement, political ideology or party to shun or expel, to incarcerate, admonish and thereby torture an, "emotionally conflicted," soul what you have accomplished by society's response is to create permanent anger and hatred.

Permanent anger and hatred.

American society therefore can be said to relish hatred and permanent anger as a way of life for all of it's citizens since every single person whom is inflicted with pain upon suffering will be assured to continue inflicting whatever pain and suffering they can on everyone else the rest of their life. So your only solution is to remove these souls from society permanently.

Was that the intent?

Is that the goal?

Do we need law, rules and fantasy crimes for every single thing a person says or does?

Is the endgame to remove these from society or to reform them?


Imagine now,

America arrests or imprisons one million people per year for using drugs,

...there are forty million felons alive today.

Wow! Lot of bad guys off the streets huh? Let's put that another way shall we?

America ruins a million people a year.
America creates a million 'soon-to-be' violent felons every year.
"Felons," who were nonviolent before being tortured by society and tortured in prison...forty million angry people live around you right now.

Forty million people!

America must want the nation to fail for every year we destroy a million people just because we want to be able to say at least I am not as bad as that person and point your finger while knowing there is no reason, no civil crime, that warrants bankruptcy, imprisonment, violence, ****, abuse, belittling, shame and banishment just because you personally don't like video games.

...or you don't like gambling,
...or you don't enjoy ***.
...or you don't smoke marijuana,
...or you hate Hollywood liberalism.
...you can't stand alcoholics,
...or you're afraid of the mentally ill.
...or your jealous of the *** you perceive someone having,
...angry because you think you work harder than someone else,
...because you deserve a better life so why not destroy others right?

Hatred as a virtue.

I wonder what our economy would be like if the 'fifty-plus' MILLION alleged criminals had jobs instead of listing away producing the smallest amount of productivity possible because YOU THINK they deserve to have a worse life for acting in a manner you do not agree with PERSONALLY.

That is one out of every seven people in The United States.

Hatred perpetuated.

That is American culture and that is why Black Lives Matter.
Rose Aug 2018
3 may 17

sincerely hoping to tear this page out.

i promised myself i would never write about you because i know that once this pen grazes paper, the thought of you will be permanently engraved somewhere, and although not physically, but mentally and emotionally in the depths of my brain, figuratively.
my outlets these days are quite scarce. i tore out my sheets and tried to erase the thought of you, of our intimacy. but what i've ceased to comprehend is that it's not that simple. i can change my sheets, remove my posters, switch my nightlight, remodel my whole room, but, that doesn't change it. change the fact that you still consume my thoughts like a virus, spread throughout my body, filling my core to the brim with inadequacy.
i love you, i hate you.
it is a constant cycle of indecisiveness that floods me with feelings of deep desire, love, and infatuation, to the less constant but still present, feelings of rage, anger, pain, and resentment projected towards you.
i can't wait until the day.
the day when you are either out of my life for good...
or
prove to me that love still exists.
-v.la
Jasmin Jul 2015
I once knew a kid
who smiles at little things,
who cries for stolen candies.

I once knew a kid
who cheers for fallen flowers
who jumps for random kindness of strangers.

I once knew a kid
who fights for everyone's right
who stands for people's freedom.

I once knew a kid
who would make others feel happy
who would comfort their solitude before herself.

I once knew a kid
who is afraid to die
who doesn't want to permanently close her eye.

Now, I know this kid
who screams for God's name
begging to keep her away from her mind
and to stop the burning flame.
Growing up is painful.
Bella Jul 2018
I Send my words hurling into your airway like swords
I bite off your tongue with every sharp response my body conjures
I have every witty comeback on speed dial to drill into your spine
The way your **** drilled into mine Pull old pennies from my pockets and throw them into your eyes
So you may not look at me the way you have for so long
You're are barely worth my pennies anyways
Here's a donation to your sorry ***
How about I grasp your neck, at just the right spot, just hard enough, to crush your voice box
To dwindle your air pipe just a little
So you cannot throw those trash comments at anyone else
How about I crack each of your fingers
Push them deep into your pockets
So that you can't feel anything without remembering me
You look at me like a mannequin in the window of your favorite retail store
You try yo put a price on what I'm worth
Maybe you can try me on
Throw me on the floor
Grab another
How about I tattoo my name on your chest
So that you cannot take off another piece of clothing
Take off another girl
Throw them in the floor
And not remember me
You will never throw me in the floor again
For I am permanently burned into your chest
How about I burn off each hair on your body
One at a time let it Sizzle down and sear the skin
Let each tiny poor feel the pain one at a time over and over and over again
Until you are left, raw

This
Is the day I speak back when you cat call me from across the street
Bison Oct 2016
To love is to wait
for silence, observing earth
This vigil for death

Is all consuming
Life to love to death and back
To the space between

The lines are defined
The church bells ring as the bombs
Collide with my eyes

Holocaust now and
Again, it's a good thing, light
Destroys darkness falls

Crush me in silence
I left my shadow behind
A wingless angel

Permanently still
My impromptu modern art
May you understand

Death is no true end
Overcoming existence
To see love turn truth
pitch black god8 May 2018
are you generally happy?

a semi-innocuous query
now actualized as a two sided bladed poker,
hot stabbing me smack dab in
the chests hollow crown bullseye,
continuously,  as in all life long, and eternal longing for a
“yes”

it fits inside a pubescent aged wound that
refreshes with every breath;
a life long struggle for an accurate definition,
be a general of genuine happy,
that alone would deliver, bringing on bright day satisfaction

as a human, one operates on parallel continuums;
slide slipping on well oiled poles that over the years,
their lengths, increasing with add-on extender poles
formed by
twisty turny slips and falls of sundered hearts and sad loves,
marriages nicknamed Titanic, children found and lost,
complications responsibilities that are denied meeting the words  
  “The End”

a life that many would envy, questioning what’s wrong
with you dude, are you blinded to the riches yours,
reality is
shoulders permanently bent, a spine that’s held together by
spit and solder and curved by wearying wearing longing for
a straightness that is also called crooked unobtainable
and a piece of a peace that comes and goes
like a highway billboard that you pass too fast to be fully read

the body is corroding and worser yet to come and that’s a hand
you selected - luck of the self-selecting-drawing -

the opioids of the mind offers are rejected

the clarity of painful self exploration valued overall -
the place where the poems come from,
and go to die,
a landscape of a scene repeatedly visualized
but never been and never left,
the crazy contradictions come in two flavors;
vanilla smiles and chocolate weeping of tears that have
etched pathways cheek-chiseled

the city is a struggling strife for most,
the next red line on the side
of the measuring cup  and
everyone has a cell, a credit card,
and a measuring cup
<•>
here I stop can’t finish  
someone missing alerts me
to their real worlds troubles
making my complaints super superficial but
the silent running of the stilleto
cuts shallow
repeated hourly
the cut color,

pitch black
A Henslo May 30
That it took some time
Overtaking our fear
Is now a precious memory
Reminiscence of yesteryear

Today it's indisputable
Permanently clear
Our bond became eternal
Our concord ceaseless and sincere

In passing I take a sniff
Scenting a souvenir
Of your folded pajamas
In case you're no longer here
AH 2017
Alice Wilde Aug 2018
Dead heavy eyes stare...
Glued to stoplights lining rain soaked streets.
An arid tongue placed, no permanently stuck against pink flesh bone
Waiting for when everything doesn’t seem like a dream.
She thinks blinking is a way to clear her sea foam eyes,
Like how polishing stone makes it brighter.
But no matter how hard she rubs
The rain falls harder and
Clarity seems like a wish
She dropped in a puddle.
Izzy Apr 2017
I don't think in linear paths
I think in images, not words.
I think through what I see
                       what I hear
                       what I feel

For instance, that night,
I found my sisters body
I saw her lifeless body hanging there
I saw my mother fall to the ground, a strangled mix between a scream and a gasp escaping her lips
I saw the red eyes of my father
I had never seen them before and I've seen them too many times since
I saw the strongest people I've ever known fall to their knees in the rubble of my family
I saw my family fragment, break and stumble under the weight of our grief
But I also saw my family stand up, rise, fight and pull the ripping seams together with our knuckles turning white

I heard my father's panic
I heard my mother's cries
I heard my own disconnected voice as my body and brain worked separately
I heard the voice of the 911 operator in my ear
I heard the sirens
      the ones that now echo in my ears
I hear an unknown voice say "I'm sorry, we couldn't revive her. She's gone," as my mother crumpled into my father.


I felt my blood racing through my veins
I felt my heart pounding in my chest
I felt my muscles moving and tearing and ripping as I ran, fueled by adrenaline
I felt the loss
I felt the icy numbness blanketing my family

I saw a life end that night and dozens of others permanently altered

Her life ended that night and ours changed and came crashing to a halt but we got back up
I got back up

I only hope that wherever she is, she's finally happy

Happier than she was here
Eva Aloezos Aug 2018
Tonight I am alone
because my soul belongs to another era
and my love is dead

all your words constantly echo in my head
I will never forget when you said
“broken people like us, have no concrete place in this world”

I sit alone at night
outside
under a lonely moon
continuing on the ride
that is solitude

No interest in meeting another,
because no one fits me
so
magically
as
you
did

now I cannot get rid
of the pain losing you caused

I have become a martyr
gladly willing to retire my own health
in exchange for seeing your gapped tooth smile
one last time
now that you are gone
my life has no rhythm or rhyme

Tonight I am alone,
having to face this world sober
without you

feeling as blue,
as the day you closed your eyes
permanently
Now
I laugh when I cry
Poison in my eye
Crazy fuggin guy

He who looks ablauf
Could never figure out
What clouds cry about

Cause a dream I wanna had was raining on my best days, and every boring morning there was a blue moon, started after meeting lost souls

Names locked in poetry
Immortal permanently
Unfortunately woe to me

Mind melts
Star belts
Deep felts

-Luca Ivaldi
Ablauf means up but specifically to the sky i guess, couldn't think of a word for it. I'm sure there is one. Root words are "at (ad)" "blue (Bleu)" "up (auf)".
the newbie failure complex(ity)

the poems come torrentially,
hurricane, waterfall & tornado are working adjectives
worthy of the task, yet unequal to the unlimited army
of the written dead of unread poems and poets
that occupy the nether of blog, podcast, and poetry sites,
orphan stars in the un-salvaged junkyard galaxy of verbiage

a faceless wight, once alive, now permanently dead,
we shuffle march, chanting each our own newbie poem,
onward soldiers to ignominy and glory so fleeting,
we are forgot before we are remembered

this is life in poetry,
or better yet,
the worst of it, (sigh)
this is the poetry of lives


all for nought,
nought for all,
at least we pass our prison time
in the company of fellow strugglers
poem #1
I want to wait, come and join me here until it becomes so
LATE
like a last moon of light in cloudy weather never burning bright
and disappears: never comes to its premier shield.  
Don’t be wandering
Wondering
Or in
Misbehaved shape. I want to be
LATE
till ...an event... destroys all fences
play the role of barriers between us.
Then
love bursts in spring reaction of a sudden blossom
and tears, non-stop
flowing on the land of juvenile since it is
LATE.  
we dance
On the spring rush of glancing love,
Gazing permanently
under the shadow of your silvery eyes,
where
No one has remained except you and us!
.
.
  To be a last singer, to be a last dancer…
in the scene of eternal love
wait...wait... to be
LATE!
Ghazal# Ebrahimzade#
Seb Tha Guru Apr 2018
Everybody, wants to figure me out, Everybody wants to understand.
All of these people just want super powers.
They all wanna feel like the man.
I got the touch like I’m Midas.
I got the powers, it’s all in my hand.
I feel like Lebron when I’m wit the team;
I'm trying to take us to the land.


Everybody knows who I be.
S to the E to the B.
Writing poetry.
Im lonely.
Think I’m out of my mind;
things been getting that deep.
I can’t sleep.
Hungry for what’s in store.
Hope it’s success that I reach.
Or, I just might Leave..
Personally..
Permanently.
Cynthia Feb 2018
A rose is active in the storm,
Its smell is an unexplainable redolence
It thrives to flourish.

A rose will wither away
inside a crystal vase or on firm ground.
A liquid substance is necessary to live and to rise,
just like He rose.

I wish to know the first time you blushed.
I wish I were there to pick you up when you fell as a child for the first time, and leaves fell to the ground.
I wish I were there the moment petals where stripped away from your body.

I wish to see you speak with radiant tenderness.
Your words and syllabus pierced through doors,
doors that were permanently locked in the heart of stone.

Meanwhile, I am just an ovule wishing to respond in a corollary way that slowly grows in a dark world
but like you rose
I will rise.
Next page