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soul Aug 2018
Loosing is not an option
its a choice
sucess is not permanent
it is a roller coaster ride
goes up and down
slide left and right
at the peak or at the bottom
sometimes high or sometime it clatters
someone cries at the end ,
someone got it a lot better
aftermath,they got wobbly legs
can't stand straight
or enjoys it before it ends.

thrill excites but never resides
fun is  transitory but still entertaining
hardwork is persistant and challenging
Tears become companion in the journey
happy or sad eyes let them flow

choose as per your desire
because there is no turning back
never saw turns that left behind
chasing the speed
to overcome the distance readily
we all do need some motivation to keep chasing our dreams
Shannon Oct 2018
and i put my phone in aeroplane mode
so i dont hear it when you dont call.
is that selfishness
or self protection.
Chris Weallans Jun 2014
ECG
ECG

They showed the broken rhythm of my heart
With inky ripples traced in peaks and troughs
The night when sudden life was torn apart
Left echoes like a dry persistant cough
This paper trail more signature of self
Than any scribbled scrawl of given names
More indication of my vital health
Than any poet’s talk of light or flames
My quick survival charted there as fact.
“And here, you see a murmured aftershock”
The remnant spider scribe of heart attack
My ailing pulse, my brittle ticking tock
Once took a moment’s beat to catch its breath
And left me reeling at the edge of death.
Helpful Anon Dec 2010
Although it may be Christmas,
One thought reseeds,
Which will be chosen,
Which is your need,

It's one or the other,
Because both doesn't work,
So make your pick,
Choose your path in this fork,

I just want an outcome,
To these never ending thoughts,
That I fear so much,
That I've fought and fought.

So please choose one,
If its not me whatever,
I'm just losing my patience,
Underneath this weather,

My patience is thin,
I've waited so long,
Give me an answer,
Because neither one is wrong,

One final thought,
Is that I've tried so hard,
Some things may seem scary,
But this decision is my shard,

So please make your choice,
Make it quick,
Because I can only hold out so long,
Before this glue no longer sticks.
I'm actually in a really good mood, just being poetic with my thoughts. Really hope I can get this to stop.
Danielle Shorr Apr 2014
Nobody ever speaks of
The sadness that can be felt
In your bones
The kind that can be
Encompassed
By your whole being
Nobody ever tells you
How to manage
Feeling like a stranger in your own body
Sometimes
I am a stranger to my own body
Depersonalization
Is a term that
I have come to know all too well
I have come to know
What it's like
To watch life happen
From a distance
To feel
Persistant and constant
Dissociation
Nobody ever told me
About the depression
That can take over your soul
While simultaneously
Forcing you
To watch it happen
Without any ability to stop it
Sometimes I feel as if
I can't feel anything at all
And that in itself
Is truly terrifying
But I am trying my hardest
To take hold of the steering wheel
I refuse
To let it take control
In the past I have
Locked all of the doors to myself
Thinking that
If I was the only inhabitant
Than nothing could get to me
But lately
I've realized
That letting people in
Will not be the downfall of myself
Lately
I've realized
That opening up
Is the key
To finding answers
Is the key
To finding help.
Mazzy Ram Aug 2016
The Doubts,
The constant,
Sporadic,
Persistant,
Doubts.
Riding on a ferris wheel,
Going up and down,
Riding through the wave,
Then all alone in my cave.  
Going up and down.  
The doubts
Come and go,
Set me free,
Then prison me in bitter sprees.
Oh, leave me be.
There is no room for doubt,
That is the key.
Nigel Finn Mar 2016
Auden wrote "weep for the lives your wishes never led."
But I think it's better to be happy instead.
Why need I shed tears and feel such regret?
I've the rest of my life to achieve better yet.

I might not be sportsman, I might not be a star,
I may not be rich or drive a flash car,
I may not be known in my own local bar,
But who is to say that I won't travel far?

"Wheat is wheat" Van Gogh once said,
"Even if, at first, like grass it seems."
I've amazing things inside my head,
And I can paint my dreams

And oh, my friends! The things I dream
Would make you laugh and cry
As they focus on the age-old theme;
The persistant question- Why?
Sometimes I'm the cat who's got the cream,
Others; a web entangled fly.

It matters not much what I do,
Much more so what I think,
So to quote the great W.C.Fields;
"I believe I'll have a drink."
“If I am worth anything later, I am worth something now. For wheat is wheat, even if people think it is a grass in the beginning.”― Vincent van Gogh

When Van Gogh was a young man in his early twenties, he was in London studying to be a clergyman. He had no thought of being an artist at all. he sat in his cheap little room writing a letter to his younger brother in Holland, whom he loved very much. He looked out his window at a watery twilight, a thin lampost, a star, and he said in his letter something like this: "it is so beautiful I must show you how it looks." And then on his cheap ruled note paper, he made the most beautiful, tender, little drawing of it.

When I read this letter of Van Gogh's it comforted me very much and seemed to throw a clear light on the whole road of Art. Before, I thought that to produce a work of painting or literature, you scowled and thought long and ponderously and weighed everything solemnly and learned everything that all artists had ever done aforetime, and what their influences and schools were, and you were extremely careful about *design* and *balance* and getting *interesting planes* into your painting, and avoided, with the most astringent severity, showing the faintest *acedemical* tendency, and were strictly modern. And so on and so on.

But the moment I read Van Gogh's letter I knew what art was, and the creative impulse. It is a feeling of love and enthusiasm for something, and in a direct, simple, passionate and true way, you try to show this beauty in things to others, by drawing it.

And Van Gogh's little drawing on the cheap note paper was a work of art because he loved the sky and the frail lamppost against it so seriously that he made the drawing with the most exquisite conscientiousness and care.
anne Mar 2010
dear Life,
i take vitamin c with chicken noodle soup
cause i need a double boost of immunity to you,
Life, you're virus-like
slow and steady persistant stream of attack
on my will's white blood cells,
eventually wearing me down with:
     term papers,
      lies,
      paper cuts,
      and a nicotine addiction
dear Life,
i got a triple boost of immunity today
i drank orange juice with my vitamin c and soup.
HA.
silly.
Samber Sep 2012
equivacol memories of my past present and future
writing other peoples papers better than i can write my own.
music is my only vice on these cold days. These independent sounds breaking waves and my spirit.
being omnipotent in a fantasy world. learning to trust the ones i need. recognizing that need.
procrastinating my daily missunderstandings.
stalling to make imperative decisions, remembering undying affection for a persistant happiness that is impossible to reach. only to let that effort slip through those fingers of deception.
as i linger in and out of minds of those less deserving corrupted corrupted young souls. you're the only voice who's vibrations floating in and out of my atmosphere held any distinct significance.
idealistic reminders pushing our hearts. the ones we try so hard to ignore.
time was on our side and ironically we ran out. with ones heart in ones mouth you are spilling out secrets meant to be kept between you and no one but eternity.
the inconsiderate notions we carry are losing depth.
breaking glass into a million little pieces like those broken moments.
lets sit and decipher those indescribable images with mega pixels transfering what words cannot.
this is all what were avoiding.
skin secrets burning into my memory like affection. oh how dishonest our acquired tastes has grown.
WARNER BAXTER May 2015
It has never been my intension
nor was it ever a bone of contention
to alter or disrupt the social convention
but now is the time to pay close attention
to the decline of the human condition

Responsibility rescinded creating moral decomposition
accountability abandoned causing legal repercussion
right and wrong are muddled in a malicious juxtaposition
public opposition has festered into social imperfection
the omission of tradition by politician’s redefinition


HEED THIS ADMONITION OR ARDENT APPREHENSION
SAGACIOUS SUSPICION AND PERSISTANT PREVENTION


Of the decommission of the Physician, Pediatrician
the Technician, and the Mathematician
and give this acquisition to those with no ambition
even those under suspicion of sedition
or held in detention without fear of restitution

This is the deception of the devolution
of the middle classification
and the total destruction
of American personification
praise the Lord and pass the ammunition
Paul d'Aubin Dec 2016
L'Espoir, quand même et malgré tout !

( Une poésie, bien pour notre temps )

L'Espoir, c'est le sourire entrevu
Qui interrompt les plombs de l'injustice.
C'est Malraux s'efforçant de lever des avions
Dans une Espagne en feu, abandonnée, trahie
L’espoir, ce sont ces humbles que l'on ne voit jamais,
À qui l'on sourit et propose un projet commun,
L’Espoir ce sont l'abbé Pierre et Coluche, délaissant leur confort,
Pour dire que la faim et l'absence de toit sont indignes de sociétés qui se prétendent démocratiques,
L'Espoir c'est la patience de reprendre l'explication si une première leçon n'a pas portée ses fruits,
L'Espoir c'est rejeter toute forme d'exclusion fondée sur la race, le sexe, l'âge ou la manière de croire ou de ne pas croire,
L'Espoir c'est l'évêque d'Hugo, laissant repartir le forçat Jean Valjean,
L'espoir c'est abandonner toute forme de vengeance et penser que l’être peut toujours s'améliorer, m^me s'il n'y mets pas toujours du sien,
L'espoir c'est refuser de hurler avec la meute sur l'homme seul que les médias exhibent au carcan avant de le conduire au gibet sous les clameurs de haine des foules.
L'espoir c'est penser que l'obscur employé et le simple ouvrier peuvent trouver et proposer ses solutions plus simples et plus efficaces que celles abstraitement élaborées par le chef ou par le patron.
L'Espoir c'est refuser de voir piétiner la planète et de laisser sans rien dire prendre des risques insensés au motif que certains puissants savent mieux que nous tous et ont le savoir.
L'espoir c'est se sentir rouge de honte en voyant des SDF allongés sur des cartons et entourés de l'affection de leurs seuls chiens.
L'espoir c'est découvrir des nouvelles et des sons nouveaux et ressentir que ce jaillissement de sons est une plénitude de l’Esprit et des sens,
L'Espoir, c'est parier sur la création des êtres et l'action personnelle et collective pour faire reculer la part de contraintes de la rareté et la résignation à ce persistant malheur.
L'espoir c'est refuser la facilité de désigner un bouc émissaire pour masquer son propre égoïsme ou fuir ses responsabilités et l'impératif de justice.
L'espoir, c'est regarder le ciel qui luit et la feuille d'automne qui tournoie comme l'aurore d'un premier jour,
C'est penser aux souffrances visibles et invisibles des malades et savoir relativiser ses propres succès comme ses prétendus échecs,
L'espoir, c'est s'abstenir de croire que l’on se dire citoyen en se contentant de paresseusement voter en déléguant toute sa vigilance et son action propre tous les cinq ans,
L'espoir c'est se demander si l'on a toujours bien exploré toutes les solutions et toutes les voies pour sortir d'un conflit et ne pas faire perdre sa dignité à son adversaire,
L'espoir c'est refuser de s'endormir dans l'indifférence des autres et de se sentir acteur et transformateur dans l'aventure de la vie,
L'espoir c'est savoir rendre l'espoir et la Dignité à celles et ceux qui sont tombés et désespèrent.

Paul Arrighi
Marshal Gebbie Dec 2010
For my mate Ernest W who cared....

Invisible in silky strands, a gossamer of lethal thought,
Drifting through the nether regions, touching on my mind.
Complication’s vagaries encroaching on the circumspect
Magnifying well beyond solutions I can find.

Nervous in the groundswell now, I feel it all inflating,
Inflating to a curtaining beyond my self control,
Waves of peristalsis in a shrill persistant keening,
Locking out the sanity in holding logic’s goal.

Waves of peristalsis in a bath of perspiration
Panic in a rupture at the coccyx of my spine,
Ravenously eating at the fabric of all reason
Ravenously gnawing at this rationale of mine.

***** in a puddle on the floor beside my footwear
Cloying is the stench of the ***** in my drawers,
Lost are the vestiges of any thought of decency
Gone is the differentiation in my flaws.

Clenching of hands in a bind of blue confusion
Catatonic slowness in arresting the decline,
Vaccilating eyeballs are rolling for the camera
And utter desolation is a flavour on my mind.

Why be concerned with the shaming of tomorrow?
Why come to terms with the maunderings of late?
Why face the music of the mirth and derision
When there’s a more practical direction to take?

Glide to the realm of the smooth overflowing
Slide in the slipstream oblivion makes,
Slip the bonds of your sad  mortal tenure’s
Awful array of destructive mistakes.

Glide to the realm of serene independence
Glide far away from the troubled and hard,
Gone to the gossamer web of the ether
Gone to the nether world’s silky facade.

...........: But what's the guts Courageous,
You happy with your deed?
Are your friends all overjoyed
To see your suicide succeed?
Is your family unaffected
By the loss and guilt remorse,
Your sudden grand departure
leaving kids without recourse?

Did you think about the aftermath?
The chaos and the pain
And the long term implications
Of your shattered families' shame?
The guilt within your partners heart,
The kids who are confused
And the ****** dissapointment
Of your mates.. who feel abused?

The mess you left behind you
And the tangled web you wove
And the bruising of good memories
For which, you once,...had strove.
Your painless, quick demise, you thought,
Released you from all this.....
But the sadness in the silent eyes
Condemns you as remiss.



Marshalg  
In an effort to understand why?
....And explain why not !
9 December 2010



Read more: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/suicide-12/#ixzz17kzvfsTk
Cards and coins and doves and smoke
Just ways to memerize the folk
Who come to dine and hear me joke
About the things I do

Restaurants, gyms and shopping malls
Weekend shows in legions halls
I have some phones...if someone calls
About the things I do

Houdini, Blackstone, Randii
Switching cards at times for candy
All things I must keep handy
to do the shows I do

I'll never make a million
Never do the big reveal
I work just for tips and smiles
Trying to pay for my next meal

Sleight of hand's my favorite
Keep them watching, fool them all
"Now which one did it go under"
"Can you surely find the ball?"

Drinking, drugs, an my depression
A nationwide finance recession
I do not  make a good impression
I'm a magician ...level two

Small clubs, folks homes, and free dinners
Show the tricks that are my winners
Show them to the saints and sinners
I'm a magician ....level two

To most I will stay nameless
***** it up, and I am blameless
Some folks comments , they are shameless
Tomorrow...I'll be gone

I don't repeat my shows  too often
I hardly do a second show
It's not because I do not like it
It's just these are the only tricks I know

I make things appear out of nowhere
It tricks the old folks and the young
I will never be remembered
I"m just one whose song is sung

I'm more slight of hand than ever
I've more patter than I've tricks
Sleight of hand lost to arthitis
Like what I do and that trick sticks

Cape and wand with no assistant
I'll get it right, I am persistant
I'm nothing if I'm not consistent
"Which cup has the missing ball?"

I am a level two magician
In the yellow pages, find my name
There's hundred more out there just like me
And all our tricks, they are the same

Thank you for your contribution
I thinks it grants you absolution
If I am bad, no retribution
I'm slight of hand...not sleight no more.
Vivian Nov 2012
You came to me so docile
Like a caterpillar on a leaf
But like that caterpillar,
You had full intention of
ripping me
apart
with your
teeth

And you offered up some ****
and I gave in with naivety
though I was already high
you watched me
oh
so
steadily

Then you pounced
I couldn't flee
Immobile me
couldn't push
you far
but I said a few
stops
and
nos
and
please don't Charlie
but you kept
on going
persistant

Persistance is key
they say
Well
**** that
I say

You degraded me that night
You
***** me
that night.

I'm never going to accept a sorry.
Makenzie Marie Jan 2016
I was:
a little broken,
a little lost on time,
too much,
and not enough
(But I'd swear "I'm doing fine").

And on every cold night
You held me so tight
my pieces fit together
and you filled the holes
left by storms and bad weather.

Too much is nonexistant
and you love that I'm persistant.
not enough is impossible.
And that's what it means
when you tell me you love me
I'm on top of the world.

I want to say time changes things,
because it's the truth about reality.
But honestly, you're the thing
and you've changed me.
but in a better way than time herself could ever dream.
And now, I'll get to watch change with you for eternity.

Today we're together,
and I'm a little lost on time.
'Cuz I'm in love,
and that's enough.
(I'm doing so much more than fine.)
Once Upon a Time, in a countryside field that expanded far and wide
there grew a massive population of Black-Eyed Susans
Due to the duration of their lineage in this country
All the other flowers admired them quite jealously

They were not lavender delightful like Venus’ pride
or magenta seductive like the frail petaled pink fairies

Black-Eyed Susans grew like Spartan warriors
and sprouted healing wisdom like Aclepius
Their bulbous heads attract butterflied so exactly
every caterpillar is born in love with the color yellow
born in lust for their persistant nature
born with their meager caterpillar lips
parted in marveled awe of how
wonderfully healing Black-eyed Susans are
asking for nothing but the sun’s rays to be warm
and the rain to quench their thirst
Larry B Apr 2010
Sometimes, we simply drift apart
No matter what we do
We always try to make it work
Tho we know, it's not going to

You say that I neglect you
And I don't know you anymore
You need my full attention
Like the way it was before

"It's not you it's me" I say
But no comfort can be found
We sit and don't communicate
We barely make a sound

As days go, by the words will fade
We're both now less persistant
There's nothing we can do to change
We've now become too distant
CautiousRain Oct 2015
My love for you is a different kind,
less explosive and hardened;
no longer plagued by ecstasy.

No romance, roses, or advances.

My love for you is a different kind,
not light-hearted, friendly, or smooth,
lacking tact, natural, or loose.

Not friendship, laughter, and chances.

My love for you is a different kind,
ostracized in form, yet firm, careful,
restless, persistant, and withdrawn.

Not lost, forgotten, or resentful.

My love for you is a different kind,
now,
and I don't know what to do.
Tired. So very very tired. I am not sure what I feel for him anymore, but it is tearing me apart.
Bragi Jun 2018
In conclusion, you don’t want me.
The rest of this is wasted.
Worthless words,

Tasteless,
Useless in their
Needless,
Hopeless,
Pointlessly
Persistant tangents.
Get to the crux.

As beautiful as it was,

As much as this *****,

A dream is all it could be

Because,

In conclusion, you don’t want me.
Dorothy A Nov 2010
I just can't shake
these lonely days,
or my lonely ways,
this persistant, lonely phase

I want to be a confident extrovert
I want to break free
I want to let the lonely days be
completely far behind me

But I fear the loneliness
has a cruel friend become
Like a constant chum
that I would rather shun

I can be lonely in a crowd
I can be content in my own space
Others, I've offered hope and grace
but my own pain remains in place 

I feel like an onion
The layers, one could peel off each part
Joy, peace, beauty-- the desires of my heart
Yet at my core is where the pain starts  

Loneliness, I do not want its pity
Wanting the sadness to go away
Yet those lingering feelings stay
as I live these lonely days
Marshal Gebbie Jan 2010
Across expanses far and flat
The freezing wind doth howl,
Through desolation cold and harsh
No sign of beast nor fowl.


No feet have trod these arid lands
No eyes have sought a path,
No heart has longed to venture here
No settler built a hearth.


Far horizons curve the flatness
Cold stars spray the sky,
Freezing diamonds in the blackness
Crescent moon hangs high.


Sleet and snow and driving rain
Assault in winter’s bleak,
Whilst blazing sun and baking wind
Prevail in summers fleet.


Grasses blow in rolling waves
As far as sight can see,
And cobalt skies of burnished blue
Are cloud and eagle free.


Sand grains blowing, heaping, rolling
Dusty dunes do form,
Moving west in steady flow
Sand waves without a storm.


Silent, silent, shrill and silent
Wind’s persistant howl
Shreiking in the rolling grass
No trace of beast nor fowl.


Far horizons defy logic
Something in the dark,
Huge and vague a shadowed something
Ghosts from Ancients hark.



Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
4 May 2009
- From Watching the Ripples Radiate
DieingEmbers Aug 2012
You're the missing shirt and mismatched socks
You're the barbie dolls and the wooden blocks
youre the iou in the money box

that makes me stop and smile.

You're the open milk and burnt black toast
you're  the dented wing from the unseen post
you're the gravy poured on my Sunday roast

that makes me stop and smile.

You're the scent of marigolds and bleach
you're the persistant itch I cannot reach
you're the shells we found on last years beach

that make me stop and smile.

You're the start of life and end of days
you're the burning hope as the fiddler plays
you're the sweetest thoughts and gentle ways

that makes me stop and smile.
phantasmal Oct 2013
abandonment is when everything you do is wrong
and nothing you do is considered important
when you've blatantly made a mistake but
they smile at you and say that "it's all right"
because they can't be bothered to tell you
what it takes to become an even better person

it is the occasional urge for your heartbeat to
slow down. to the point where it stops, and
is too late to start up again
the persistant desire to step off rooftops;
to feel your body tumbling, hurtling downwards knowing
that the ground will open up to keep you safe

when you feel abandoned, you feel unwanted
as if everyone has decided to give up on you
but still you keep your palms open,
like a child waiting to catch snowflakes in summer
thinking that perhaps, your conclusion was wrong
hoping that the silhouette you watched walk away will
turn around and return to you with outstretched arms

- - -
it´s not that my mind is that dark
that is to say
that my thoughts and moods
are a perpetual grey

blotted and distorted
those happy memories I made
into a dark murky pool
go my sun-shiny days

I know my thoughts might seem cliché..
«the persistant clouds turn my blue sky grey»
but it is the the truth
my truth!
my dismay!

still I find myself begging
for the light to stay
MaSHTONdison May 2014
I am Authentic,
I am Beautiful,
I am Charming,
I am Delicate,
I am Elegant,
I am Faithful,
I am Gifted,
I am Honorable,
I am Idealistic,
I am Jolly,
I am Kindly,
I am Liberal,
I am Moody,
I am Neat,
I am Octavious,
I am Persistant,
I am Quaint,
I am Responsive,
I am Shy,
I am Thrifty,
I am not U,
I am Violent,
I am Wonderful,
I am X- pensive.
I am Youthful
I am Zilliant.

I am Me.
i know some of the last ones arent words but yeap
Monique Olivier Nov 2013
When farewell is said
And no light is seen anymore
When you know sleep is not in the cards
And eyes are all shut around you
The world around becomes your own
Personal hell

You see dancing shadows against the ceiling
And your eyes are fixed on them, you try to follow their way
The smile of a wicked lover reflects from the mirror and it sends shivers down your spine
You hear the desperate shout of a woman
No one will be answering her
Not then, not now, not ever.

The man who sits there, night after night,
Paging through forgotten memoirs, with the dark soul and piercing eyes. He is the one who breaks your heart. With a ciggarette in his hand, he reminds you that life with the light on is just a hoax.

"The bitterness of dissapointed will be the persistant flavour in your mouth if you keep on believing there is more to everything around you." He says, "So go on, little girl, without putting any of your faith in that light."

He became your nightly companion. Said some wise words and made you think. Until one night he took everything with him.
The dancing shadows on the ceiling, the reflecting smile of a wicked lover and the desperate shout of a woman.
And finally you could sleep.
Can't sleep.
Emily Katherine Sep 2012
28.
Missing somebody i haven’t met yet.
It’s like, having a persistant shiver. And I’m so cold. No matter how many things I wrap around me, nothing could compare to what it would feel like to be held by you. To be, well. Kept warm.
ShaeZen Jan 2014
This darkness inside me
doesn't seem to want to go
its created a den inside
next to where i keep my hope

Seeping up through cracks
that weren't there before
Memories of a time gone past
feed the monster more

This darkness inside me
its a creation of my own
A being of light
not ment to fight
hides underneath its cloak

This darkness inside me
wears a mask of smoke, and mirrors
using it to slowly feed on my own fears
Relentlessly persistant
just like my mind
I hope that one day soon
I will unmask this being of mine
k f Feb 2011
And I really wish that I could say
I don't want you the way that I do
But I'd be lying if I implied
I don't constantly think about you

We're two halves of a different whole
Don't quite fit well together, it's true
Yet I find myself drawn
From the dusk 'til the dawn
To all of the things that you do


The dew on the grass doesn't know
It'll be gone by the end of the day
I can swear, I did not see it coming
Your existence coming into play

As I try to avoid misbehaving
Muscle memory drags me to your door
I can't knock, I am weak
And forbidden to speak
I wander the city once more


It is quite sad, what you have made of me
Without thought, I was stripped to the bone
There's no blame, just an aching, persistant
Without nothing, I wander, alone.
(an experiment with rhythm.)

(and, also, rhyme.)
Robert Purvis Oct 2010
Love crashes
On the shores
Of my heart

It comes and goes
High tide
Low tide
But ever persistant
Dependable
And as gracious and beautiful
As the sunset

When low tides comes round
I will come to you
And when you miss me
High tide will come back to me

Your love crashes
On the shores
Of my heart
Loose coins sing like cheap nickel-plated wind chimes
in the side compartment as she slams
the car door behind her.
For half a second, I consider getting out after her--
following, so she can give me those petulant puppy dog pupils
she's perfected through persistant practice.
A better plan: I make a face at her back reminiscent of
three "na's" and a pair of "boo's."
As if somehow cosmically aware I've just hit my daily quota of immaturity,
she speaks.
"You know, I just find it funny h--"
but I'm already in reverse.

*

What is it about driving with nothing but stars and trees as companions
that makes a night cruise so much more thought provoking?
Could it be because I can finally hear myself think?
No. I always think out loud anyway.
Maybe it's because they actually seem to listen?
"****, you are way too high right now, my guy."
"Nah, I'm good, brody."
Okay. I don't even listen to myself;
why would nature be any different?
But there's something.
Picking up speed,
back pushing against the seat,
feeling every imperfection in the road through the chassis--
eyes peeled for parked patrol boys.
Making turns onto streets I have no business on.

If she were here, she'd be giving me one of her looks
instead of standing with her  head out the moonroof
as I would if I were passenger with someone driving this fast
in unfamiliar territory.

If she were here, she'd give me **** about the wind tangling her hair
like I won't use it as an excuse to run my fingers through it later.
If she were here, she'd give me **** about my music being
too loud in this minivan heavy neighborhood
like I won't use it as an example why we shouldn't be mad at kids
who do it to us twenty years from now once we've settled down.

If she were here, she'd be a voice of reason.
For whatever reason
Marshal Gebbie Mar 2017
For my mate Ernest W who cared....

Invisible in silky strands, a gossamer of lethal thought,
Drifting through the nether regions, touching on my mind.
Complication’s vagaries encroaching on the circumspect
Magnifying well beyond solutions I can find.

Nervous in the groundswell now, I feel it all inflating,
Inflating to a curtaining beyond my self control,
Waves of peristalsis in a shrill persistant keening,
Locking out the sanity in holding logic’s goal.

Waves of peristalsis in a bath of perspiration
Panic in a rupture at the coccyx of my spine,
Ravenously eating at the fabric of all reason
Ravenously gnawing at this rationale of mine.

***** in a puddle on the floor beside my footwear
Cloying is the stench of the ***** in my drawers,
Lost are the vestiges of any thought of decency
Gone is the differentiation in my flaws.

Clenching of hands in a bind of blue confusion
Catatonic slowness in arresting the decline,
Vaccilating eyeballs are rolling for the camera
And utter desolation is a flavour on my mind.

Why be concerned with the shaming of tomorrow?
Why come to terms with the maunderings of late?
Why face the music of the mirth and derision
When there’s a more practical direction to take?

Glide to the realm of the smooth overflowing
Slide in the slipstream oblivion makes,
Slip the bonds of your sad  mortal tenure’s
Awful array of destructive mistakes.

Glide to the realm of serene independence
Glide far away from the troubled and hard,
Gone to the gossamer web of the ether
Gone to the nether world’s silky facade.

...........: But what's the guts Courageous,
You happy with your deed?
Are your friends all overjoyed
To see your suicide succeed?
Is your family unaffected
By the loss and guilt remorse,
Your sudden grand departure
leaving kids without recourse?

Did you think about the aftermath?
The chaos and the pain
And the long term implications
Of your shattered families' shame?
The guilt within your partners heart,
The kids who are confused
And the ****** dissapointment
Of your mates.. who feel abused?

The mess you left behind you
And the tangled web you wove
And the bruising of good memories
For which, you once,...had strove.
Your painless, quick demise, you thought,
Released you from all this.....
But the sadness in the silent eyes
Condemns you as ....remiss.



Marshalg  
In an effort to understand why?
....And explain why not !
9 December 2010
An oldie of mine regurgitated, again, by the necessity to present the full picture to a young associate of mine who is horrifyingly, teetering on the cusp.
M.
The old man hunched over, slow to move,
Decided that this day, a honest day's labor,
Was just the ticket in order to have a day,
Productive and so lasting as the day was long.

He stretched and felt every muscle and bone,
Cry out to him in momentary pain and hurt,
But struggled, still, to dress himself alone,
In order to have a breakfast of eggs and toast.

The dinted coffee *** rattled on the stove,
The blinds were open to let in the light,
He put his breakfast on his plate of tin,
And commenced to eat in solitary fashion.

"Today's the day we build the wall,"
"You know, the one to keep the neighbor out,"
Because the neighbor was a persistant pest,
With constant hellos and meddling talk.

The old man bathed himself in silence,
Preferred to keep his thoughts secretly hidden,
Did not care for the company of idle fools,
Who didn't know what honest labor could do.

So, off to the work shed for his tools to begin,
The wall between the neighbor and him,
Walked to the place where walls are built,
Between the pastures of a neighboring farm.

The cold air felt like needles on his face,
The snow crunched repeatedly beneath his boots,
Wind hurtling gushs of shivering air,
With numbness in his toes he forged along.

Perhaps, a wall is something that builds itself,
Or maybe takes a long, long time to construct,
But determined in his quest for total privacy,
He must have felt a mission was his daily call.

"I'll build this wall, come hell and highwater,"
Despite the time of year being such a challenge,
Yet, when he knelt to gather his thoughts to begin,
He told himself tomorrow would be just as good.

Then, back he tredged to the house he had,
Where the fireplace roared and comfort awaited,
So, he could sip his tea and eat his evening meal,
While planning for tomorrow's daily labor.
I haven't been able to think about you without crying
To look at your picture on my wall was too painful
It may have been better if you had died, like Dominick

But you didn't, no you still exist
Strong and persistant in my memory and alive and well somewhere else
I wonder if you meant all those hurtful words you said

I saw pictures of you today happy and smiling
Did I really make your life a sad dark hell?
Or is that just what you're telling yourself

Is that just your sad pathetic excuse
For giving yourself a reason to cut me loose
Because we were drifting a part so slowly

You were the only person who knew me that well
To know the little words that would **** me
So you made sure to say them, knew what insults to spew

I'm starting to think you wanted me to hate you
You told me not to cry, but you knew I would
I'm telling myself all the things you knew I would

That i'm a horrible person, I don't deserve to be loved
That all of my efforts were wasted, never enough
But I hope you know, I'm not the only one I blame

I'm not dense enough to think friendships are one way
You could've made an effort, you could've made a step
Hell there are so many different things you even could've just said

Let me know where we were headed, cause I didn't even know
But instead you left me here all alone
Justifying your actions with the things that killed me

Along with stupid other petty things
You said you feel "I'm adjusting just fine"
Then suggested you'll live your life, and I'll live mine

Whatever happened to the days, for thirteens years
Where we were like family through blood sweat and tears
Your mom isn't there for me like another mom anymore

All of your selfish (or was it selfless) motives closed that door
I keep blaming myself, I rant and then I blame you
I go down the long list of all the stupid reasons why our firendship is through

And what it boils down to, is we bit off more then we could chew
This distance was too much for us it tore us both apart
You were just the stronger one, for finally freeing your heart
Isaac Grimm Feb 2013
This twisted sandman
strangles the sleep
of the guilty mind.
The over-exposed cycle
the why conjoined with I.

Persists, persistant, perspire.

He self-develops in your spine.
In black shadows, as he
dredges through memories
and dredges through memories
and dredges through memories.
All recalled, and in pain
sorted, distorted, and wrought anew.

But never quite to
a wholly dissonant cognition.
For these prints
These prints hold images
impossible to crush
or cast aside.

For there he stands
in his and your own dark room
in screaming defiance of the false.

The light thrown on
He smashes your funhouse mirror
and chemical-burns your closed eyes.
CAROLYN BAYNE Feb 2014
WOMEN OF COLOUR
WHAT’S YOUR FLAVOUR
GALLANTLY TRIUMPHANT
EXOTIC COMFORTS
MAN-MADE FIBRES
AS IT TRIGGERS
THE JOY OF THE WORLD
FOR EVERY BOY AND GIRL
WOMEN THAT WOULD SHARE
OF ECLETIC HAIR
LONG OR SHORT
TO SUIT ALSORTS
‘TIS NOT THEIR OWN
FROM SOMEONE ELSE’S HOAN
ENDLESS SPRAYS AND CREAMS
TO MAKE IT SHEEN
FEELING THE FLOW
OF SOMEONE ELSE’S GLOW
ON TO THEIR HEAD
CHANGING IMAGES OF STEAD
IMAGINERY FALSE
JOIN TO THE PULSE
OF THIS SURPLUS ENERGY
AND SYNERGY
FOLLOWING FASHION
ENDLESS CONFUSION
FULL OF EMOTION

TIME TO MAKE A STAND
FORGET ABOUT TOWING THE BAND
BE PROUD OF ONE SELF
NATURALLY, AND NOT ON THE SHELF
WITHIN THE EXISTENCE
AND BEING PERSISTANT
CLAMPERING OFF THE MOTHER SHIP
AND THE WHIPS
CENTURIES OF CONFUSION
ALMOST AN ILLUSION
MOVING FORWARD TO NOW
HOW TIME HAS GROWN
TO BE ACCEPTED
AS TO BE EXPECTED
THE WAY TO BEGIN
LOOKING DEEP WITHIN
TIMES ENDLESS STRUGGLES
AND MOVING BATTLES
THE DREAM IS HERE
IN THE INNERMOST STRASTOSPHERE
BEING PROUD
SAY IT ALOUD
COMING TOGETHER
LIVING NATURAL FOREVER
THE HUMAN BODY
IS NOT SHODDY
IT IS THE ONE LIFE
OF STRIFE
IN AN EVER CHANGING ENTITY
FROM NOW TO ETERNITY
LOOKING TO SYMBOLISM
USING THE WISDOM
TO BE ACCEPTED AS YOU ARE
THE WORLD TRULY CARES

ONE LIFE ONE LOVE

PEACE

— The End —