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Vass Mar 24
At night you cry because you're afraid to die.
You wanna drink, get high and savor the blue sky.
Yet every morning you put on a suit and tie,
and live yesterdays lie.
Every change you deny,
you don't even give them a try.
It's time you say goodbye.
Your life is over, the void is nigh.
v V v Jan 6
The nurse said he
seemed confused today,
with a faraway look as
if trying to remember…

But I know the
look she speaks of,
he's in a constant state
of panic and despair,  

as if he’s just missed the
train and now he knows
there won’t be enough time
even if the next train is early
to make it to the liquor store
before it closes.
Dead Rose One Nov 2017
<>

No, He said.

I want you
wanting.

I want to taste the miracle of your desperation,
lick the sweet sweat of tense from the hairline well hid
on the back of your pleasuring neck.

I need your needing constant completion,
but not succeeding.

The airborne aroma of your desires are fiery, arousing,
stimulus sensating me by the unending beauty of dissatisfaction,
this virus desirous, infection, makes my perpetual wanting  
for an incomplete perfect woman,
forever seeking betterment,
perfectly complete.


<>
11-15-17 11:51pm
mixed up emotions re this one; who is the striver, who is selfless   and/or selfish;  can be understood in many different ways
seethroughme Oct 2009
disillusion
stings
and the echo
rings
in perpetual
anticipation
of inevitable
unreachable
expectation
we are human
and we will hurt
Tommy Randell Dec 2014
To loosen with my bare hands
the wide air between us
in explaining something of meaning
I almost feel
I am pulling flesh
from the living and moving moments
possible here.

It is somehow breaking
the natural order of things
to use words alone
of all viable means
in setting out the wind-waves and rivulets
of ideas internally flowing -
but I must try and get something out for once.

I circle in bad phrases
prickling with the itchiness of sharing,
I send out a few vague words
horrified and perplexed
at their translation now they are naked
knowing you too listen
and they are at last unalterable.

Deep in the brain, far back
this is my bad time
but I know where the roots go
down into me
and from the storm’s heart
perpetual agitation pumps hand in hand
with calm acceptance.
The self *****, alternately
to fan and to freeze
whatever doubts or unease are burning.
Talk travels the spaces between us
through the clear air
in the kind of silence
surviving bones may know swinging in a wind.

But I know stillness can become alive
when living mouths bring their hearts to bear -
ears can well hear
what the breath has to say,
as the eye sees
the body’s smallest noises -
face to face we are a field of listening.

The warm comes without sound.
This is only the edge of a becoming.
We are not trapped in the lips -
already we lean inward
to know of each other and to give
not words for the wind
but a dance at ease with all that flows.
Mystic Ink Plus Oct 2018
If One can dance
With the beats of
Their own heart

Never have to fear
When to stop
Genre: Inspirational Abstract
Theme: Way To Live Fearlessly
Jewel M C Oct 2018
cold feet beneath the sheets
i close my eyes & try to breathe...
it's 3am & i'm dreaming of who i used to be
before everything fell apart around me

my life is a mess of regrets
& reasons to stay in bed
i still can't escape the voices inside my head

(louder) they're getting louder now
i try to scream, but there's no sound
no one can save me from my anxiety

so i try to sleep but the voices follow
the nightmares become harder to swallow
& i wake up feeling more hollow

just to have it happen all over again tomorrow...
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2017
I know not how many
million stars there are.
But I know there is
only one earth.

Maybe we have counted
the protons of the atom
as many it has in its nucleus
counted the electrons on the run
orbiting the nucleus.
But the spinning circle is a zero
yet to compute the unifying one!
It's a pattern spans the universe.

I know there are
billions of us human
out there on earth.
But all I want is only one.
Just to count on
a permanent one!  

The big earth
is a bigger zero null.
Standing on barefoot
without the perpetual one.
No glue, no roof nor a sign
only on one pure rigid science!
ryn Jan 2015
.
\       |       /

\               •think my               /
pen's almost dry•it's get-
ting oh so hard•ideas seem to just
\   fly on by•i'm unable to deal any more   /
cards•bottom of the barrel•i seem to be
scraping•trapped in a long, dark tunnel•
coherence eluding...the words that need
inking•i need a simple little trick...•to
soothe this perpetual itch•need my
/        bulb come on really quick•hope-        \
fully as soon as I flick on
/               the...switch•               \
|   ooooooooooo   |
•••••••••
•••••••••
•••••••••
•••••••••
•••••
ooo
ryn Nov 2014
.    _ _
     /   /  
  /  /  
 ||
    
enticed by   \\  the alluring
promise of everlasting sweetness•i had
shed all trepidation to indulge in this lone
songstress•hanging on its own, just enough
within my arm's length•seemed so easy but
a formidable test of strength•i had reached
and plucked without in mind, the doubt of
myth•held it for an instant before sinking
in my teeth•it's the sole mouthful that
had brought about this perpetual
racking cough•it's the apple...
that i should've never taken
a big bite        out of...•
Mark Robins Aug 2018
Inspiration is scarce.

Masculinity ravages like a
starved beast on all
that's pure and painless.

Upon my life it clings and
departs not now nor never.

In hours of weakness it strikes
and pseudo power creates a
pleasant bleakness.

When all is over I lay in sweating
idleness. Womanhood must hate me
but sometimes I hate it too...

*** is a *****
olivia marie Mar 15
the feeling
that you are not loved
is indescribable

a continual absence
a feeling deep in my chest
that something is simply not there

a feeling i wouldn't wish
upon my worst demons

but it is not true
and though i tell my self
every day
it is not true


i don't believe it
ryn Feb 2015
Stuck at this game,
In what seemed like forever.
Stuck at a stage where...
Experience points don't matter.

A game set in an expansive universe,
Rife with problems that arise to haunt.
You can't pass and can't concede defeat.
Troubles' only function is to mock and taunt.

I've chafed my thumbs raw...
Manipulating the knobs on my controller.
My mind is a mess...
In search of a happily ever after.

Puzzled by puzzles,
There are no cheat codes...
Can't blast my way through,
There are no god modes...

Neither are there any hints,
Nor is there a walkthrough...
I'm just running in perpetual circles,
In this game of me and you.
I came to liberate lions from dungeons
I came to share and not stare at you
I came to actualize powers within me
I intend to distribute resources equally
I came to reiterate that all beings are beautiful
I came to make an impact like mountains do
I came to create music with my attitude
I intend that symphonies surround me with their melodies
I intend that children feel safe to open up to me
I came to empower dancers in perpetual motion
I intend to be a witness to the miracles of life’s radiance
I came to scream love songs into forests
I came to hear my own voice echoed by hollow caverns
I intend to create portals that we can travel through
I came to bring back the aurora borealis at all latitudes
sunlight peeks through the curtains
stealing me from slumber.
my eyes open
dazed by the rays of a new day.
his body beside mine
near though oceans apart.
we swim away from the sun
through treacherous waters back to dawn.
dawn
where we are everything and anything except still.
still is the morning,
our rapid current at rest
pause
my mind slips away
thoughts of a perpetual dawn
where the morning never comes.
A.
SEROTONIN FIX FOR YOUR AESTHETICS

B.
WHAT'S PAST IS MOMENTARY,
THE PRESENT IS ETERNITY

C.
ALL IS DUST

D.
PERSPECTIVE RENDERS ALL

E.
THAT ELYSIAN APERTURE DARKENS IN TOTAL RECKONING

F.
PERPETUAL CONTINUUM

G.
LOST IN AN OCTOBER DESCENT

H.
THE SOUL DOES ROAM

I.
EXCEED INTROSPECTION, RECEIVE INTENTION

J.
REAL MEMORY, SURREAL THEME

K.
FOLLOW THY HEATHEN DIRECTIVE (TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH AND) ON TO EXALTATION

L.
THE MATRIX HAS YOU

M.
GLITCHED HISTORY

N.
LET THE SUBTLE WORD SOAR

O.
YOU BROKE ME THOROUGHLY

P.
WAITING ALONE ON THIS SATELLITE

Q.
SHATTER THE SKY

R.
JUDGE WITH AS MANY ASPECTS IN MIND

S.
EMPATHY IS DIVINITY

T.
THIEVIUS RICTUS DEVILISH GENTILITY

U.
ADVENTURE WAS NEVER A CRIME

V.
CONTEXT IS ALL THAT EVER IS

W.
KNOW THY DRUG/KNOWLEDGE IS DOPE

X.
AZURE HAZE OF SUMMER VIBRANCY

Y.
MESCALITO TORNADO ON DESERT SANDS

Z.
DOOMSDAY KISS
{[UPPER-CASE](OBJECTIVE)}
Arianna Oct 2018
"... I am old now, as the poets have warned.

The courtyard smiles still as in my youth,
Immune to the ravages of Time:

                     Pomegranate trees swaying
                     In perpetual motion,
                     Lush, and beautiful like flute girls
                     Unfettered by "the weight of years"*;

                     It laughs in garlands of ivy
,
                     And now, as then,
                     Sweetens my tears with roses."
* = "the weight of years", a term I have encountered several times in translations of Euripides' work; the phrase resonates. :)
lauren Nov 2016
i have slept restlessly for  nights now, reliving the events that have conjured within the past 72 hours. i think to myself, how would anyone want to bring another into this world knowing the pain they will endure? yes. you will feel pain, indescribable, chest filling, body aching pain from your head to your toes. i wont try to paint a perfect picture of this world and let you down. hating me every moment for the things i never said. you will be beaten down by others, torn away from the connection you thought you had. you will sit in a coffee shop alone, biting your lip with anxiety, and he will call you in the dead of night pleading for you to keep him company once more. you will miss the way you looked at the world, with innocence and purity, reliving every moment of suffering and rewriting its pages. you will invest your heart in people, things that will only let you down. but sweet child this suffering that you feel will be soon over. it is how you overcome these situations of awkward confrontation and scandalous betrayal. because one day a bee will buzz past you and you will jump up and down like a child again, tugging on the end of your own dress, smiling. you will laugh once again because the perpetual love you feel from those who surround you with positive energy will fill the gaping hole of disappointment that the world has so willingly handed you. like i said, i will not paint a perfect picture for you, because every artist has their flaws, but they cover them oh so well. and you should never have to carry that kind of burden.

love always,
me
Marco Buschini Nov 2016
The pulsating, pearl moon
Harbours the last remnants of romance,
Scintillating, in the valourous sky,
As I surrender to call upon her spirit
To bring her back to me.
I longingly strip, craving the vivacity of her caress.
Irresistible, I would yield to the perpetual
Power of her touch.
Immersed in the shadowy depths,
Rippling serenities of thought.
I glimpse at her reflective soul,
Shimmering upon the ravenous river,
Emanating from the stars
In all their graceful radiance.
Her heart illuminates
The benevolent evening.
The breath of inevitability
Stings my skin, as I dress,
Firing my arrows of impatience
Disconsolately, into the shivering azure,
Hoping for a way
To ******* her very being.
Kabelo Maverick Jul 2014
Picture God rocking on his chair, tired and fatigued
by this constant perpetual cycle of this vanity fair
  where Man proclaim themselves deity
and have unconsciously agreed to be disembowelled of their spiritual  piety, in exchange for the reimbursement of this physical tangy
  they call Reality.

What a kiss of life!!
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2015
be ever gentle to thy words
treat them, your tools, well,
cleansing and protecting,
wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin
that they may be well conditioned and
pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous,
reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage,
they are well-intentioned to exist far longer
than your meager temporal life,
upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit

give them all respect, their fair due,
they are treasure immeasurable,
for which you have been granted guardianship,
custody received from others to be gifted onwards,
yours, but for the duration

so oft we trifle words,
expel them from the country of our body,
without passport and earnestness,
as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler,
day tourists, to be treated as leavings,
refuse for daily discardation,
barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance,
but leaving not, a mark of distinction

more truffle than trifle,
find them in the dark forest of your life,
use them sparingly, just for soaring,
take them from the roots of your trees,
shave them with a paring knife,
counts them in bites and measure them in grams,
even in grains,
for words are the seasoning of our lives,
agent provacateurs that can modify the moment,
bringing out to the fore
the flavor of the underlying

speak them slow and distinct,
for they arrive slow to you,
a trickling of refugees for your sheltering,
harbor them as full companions,
protected by natural law,
provision them well,
prepared and ever ready for a quick departure,
moor them at the embarcadero,
for the next restless leg of endlessness,
which they themselves will inform you
will last longer than eternity,
long after there are no humans to speak them
Oct. 6, 2015
4:30am
Manhattan Island
ryn Sep 2014
Sun up till sun down
Trapped in a perpetual frown
Moon comes then she goes
Drops free fall from my nose

Waking hours in the daylight
Aimless motions; clumsy, puppet-like
Waking hours in the night
Uncomfortable in my own skin and psych

Sleeplessness be my companion
Restlessness be my actions
Despondence be my demon
Crest fallen be my reason

Frantically sifting through my head
Vertically upright or supine in bed
Compartmentalising might be key
To fend off self inflicted insanity

Desperation hangs overhead; ripe and bruised
Excuses upon excuses ridiculously overused
Furiously typing before my mind curds
Hopes of finding peace in these unspoken words
Darkness is upon me... Please excuse my rantings
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?
laura Aug 2017
white girls stuck in perpetual road trips
to nowhere in particular
but they look cute though, always in a red jeep
with red cheeks and red lips
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