"pleaded" poems
It seemed the space between us became torn and
Profoundly distanced....................
Jamming bony knuckles and spread eagled fingers,
Lying their mapped out journey.....direction on point patrol....
Adorned by silver decoration, delighting in their skinned habitat
Shafted, deceit punching the recipient of the poison digits
Prodding and pushing their intent....dare you contradict
The intended carved out dose of punishment, Risk and
Safety......not yours and never would be; stooped
Down under the assailing bony palmed attachements
That delivered penetrating power, cupped around
Your arm til it became discoloured, pressure points
Backed you into a corner, up against the grain of the
Brick wall, cold and damp, the odour reaching
And scolding your nostrils with its stale internal vows
Refuse, stretching and protruding its foul remnents
An earlier life, when you were not under threat fades
Your very existance in jeopardy, your eyes pleaded for
Normality, willing someone to hear your silence, grip you
Tightly, not with malice, but with bravery and valour
Right now you need that shining knight, that white
Horse galloping down the blind alleyway, yet you
Know that won't happen for you're already sinking
To the floor, the blow comes sharp and stings, warmth
Exudes and trickles a path downwards, leaving your
Body, finding the cold concrete beneath you, travelling
Outwards................
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 7:58 AM UTC
i still remember the look in his eyes.
The way he looked at my body.
As if i was a piece of meat.
A piece of candy on Halloween.
Like what i wanted didnt matter.
I could tell he couldnt wait to do what he pleased.
Because he knew i wouldnt be able to do anything.
Even though i said no he still pulled me into his grasp.
i was scared
but he didnt care.
he went in as hard as he could no matter how much i pleaded.
his eyes looked hungry
im still scared to this day to see that look in someones eyes.
it gives me nightmares and makes me want to cry
i never want to see those eyes again.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC
his breath woke me up every night
we lay in bed; no, it wasn't
that his breath smelled of toxins,
but of dandelions and poppies.
his hair smelled like he rolled around in
fields of roses and he was
the single dandelion that begged and
pleaded to fit in.
he would never fit
in but he didn't know that, so
he kept trying and it was
so beautiful to say the least.
underneath his skin, in-between
his veins and his bones are tiny seeds that
i planted with kisses and they
grow with my love, when i wrap my
bony arms around him and
squeeze tightly - it lets him
know that he's not normal, that he's
not right in the head but
i love that. so when he wakes me
in the middle of the night, as
i lie between him and the emptiness of
the night, i think that i'm dying
but the moon light lingers and i
know i am safe with his flower breath
and the weeds growing in-between
us and the roots that grow out
of my heels and strangle the love
picture frames on our off-white
bedroom wall. i stare at those cookie-cutter
pictures and wish i wasn't right
in the head, too, but if we both were
psychotic, he wouldn't be a dandelion.
so i stay awake and watch
his beauty radiate in the darkness of
the night and wish that i
was that beautiful too. but he
tells me that my battle wounds don't
amount to anything to him, that my skin
is a ghost to him. i wish
he saw me for me, but his eyes
see the beauty that he grows.
but several nights he leaves me and
i am cold and i am worthless and
i pray to a god that he will
come back and taunt me because
i cannot stand it when he is
not here between my fragile arms
keeping me warm and safe.
i beg him when he returns to just
stay the night, just one more night,
because i cannot bare to
sleep without the dandelion amidst
all the rose petals. i need
my dandelion to keep me safe
and to be the needle in the
haystack - i need him to be in my
arms because idon'twanttosleepalone.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
Past years reminding me of ancient ideas, wasted hope on young lustful love
which now translates to the tune of reluctant,
senseless adoration as I watch
my first birdie take flight
and spread his wings like a majestic eagle in the sky.
I wave goodbye.
You know I'll always remember
the first summer we spent together.
In the good times, and through all the bad
concern and dim hopes were all we had
but then, she heard wings of all sorts
scattered at her front door flocking
My birdie came knocking
stopped the boat on uneasy waters from rocking.
Opened up his tormented soul for me to see
and asked every graciously "forgive me?"
I pleaded, "but it was I who'd sent you away!"
and it still haunts me to this day
that I hurt my best friend
and thinking of those tainted sheets in which I lay.
But you told me not to worry, not to fret
the past is the past,
so lets start off where we finished last
we were stupid, carefree and naive
we knew no greater truth than hair dye & ****
And simple things,
like paintings, a smile and teddy bears
were all we needed.
But I'm here today to prove
That I will always stay true
To give guidance and support all the way through
Ex-Lover,
Best Friend,
Brother
I love you.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC
The little boy pleaded for his life.
"If I let you go, you will grow up", the soldier replied.
Then he shot the child.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
"come on, Forget-Me-Not!" flirted emerald Snapdragon,
"tell me, what’s it like to have control over me, for once?"
like fire, the cerulean bloom did crackle and hiss
and walked away in a heated, dreadful silence.
"why do you call me that?" asked uncertain Snapdragon,
"tell me, why don’t you speak with me like you used to?"
like salt, the windowed flame did flicker thrice -
and was swept away by the threatening, stormy sea breeze.
"please, my sun-kissed Fox," begged hesitant Snapdragon,
"shower me in loving words like you did before."
like rain in drought, the elusive creature did rarely show his face,
if so, only for laughter’s sake, to break the horrid silence.
"tell me, darling Forget-Me-Not," pleaded melancholy Snapdragon,
"why don’t you love me anymore?" oh how she sobbed
as, like childhood, her Snapdragon self become part of his past -
he shrugged his pale, fragile shoulders, swaying in the salty breeze.
"dear seaside Sunset," wrote tragic Snapdragon, "I am truly sorry,
I miss our days in love. your presence filled a hole in me, now empty."
but far too long in blinded oversight, Forget-Me-Not had stood,
and much too late did adoring Snapdragon realise her mistake.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC
My bestfriend wanted to **** himself last night.
Drunk as **** he called me.
Crying his eyes out as he rants.
Talking about wanting to die.
Begging I pleaded for him not to.
Yet he had no care for what I said.
Telling me he wanted to feel what it was like to cut.
Leaving his phone to go find a razor.
I ran the five minute walk to his house.
Rushing in, he throws the blade in shock.
Then fights me as I try to keep him from going and finding it.
Fights me as I try to stop him from getting another one.
Crying I beg him to stop cutting.
Beg him to stop as he slits his wrists open infront of me.
It was as though he had no care for me.
As though I was some stranger standing in his way of happiness.
He was a different person entirely.
Calling the only mom I trust.
She rushes over and we force him to get up and leave.
We were able to stop him.
Get him to talk.
Yet.
He is still so distance.
So different.
I'm scared to death...
Scared that I'm on the verge of losing my bestfriend.
The guy who got me sober.
Who has stopped me from cutting and more, countless times.
I can't survive without him.
I can't help but pray with everything in me.
That he will be okay.
That he will make it through.
I love him too much to lose him.
He's my bestfriend.
I'm scared to leave him alone.
I'm scared to overcrowd him.
I just want him safe.
I don't know how to feel about all of this.
I'm scared out of my mind.
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 2:58 AM UTC
She hid her heart with fallacious layers of 'don't worry' and 'it's fine',
And she pleaded them not to try and reach her soul.
But their words tore through her defences,
And they cried as the onion girl bled slowly into oblivion.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
I have left, pig-mudding drunk,
having sipped from stock to stock on fraying cheer, stages.
I have stood in foreign basements; sweaty cellars of youth;
begot by attitude breeding spaces of the hip;
drawn circles searching for love in recreating nonsense:
a silly pupil, moon-eyed, out of breathe.
I have heard them quack, reveal their cords;
heard them whisper a thousand and one secrets,
heard them deconstruct their circumstances as pilgrims, penniless and sick.
I have their memories now, an image of a depressed,
ass-imprinted pillow soaked in liquor and a feeling of nausea
where ribs sleep on this couch tonight, every night.
I have heard one refute the weight of living, ******
on the banks of his best friends hospitality, and thought
How much is it worth?
And I have envied every **** greasy pored hipster,
the ones fixing on makingitnew now kind of clan; stared blankly at fashion,
a culture back door where pink fish scales sparkle high from runway halters
to the tops of grown men, bearded and chesty.
And your mothers pearls sit, not your mother’s pearls but your mother’s, mother’s pearls,
that old world clout ornamented around those hairy *******
Oh yes, I have seen men become peacocks, charmed animals of **********
seen them teeth at discourse in the noise they create, wide-mouthed and pointed;
I have seen them masked like frantic felines: wooly bully cats trying-to-roll their own meter,
their tobacco stained black charcoal over soft bricked lips quiver to their beats:
those painted lemmingings, without a parachute: kamikaze felons.
I have desired absolute sterility: white china,
in the egg of a toilet bowl I spewed out, shut-up my exuberance for the night;
sorry-pleaded my resolutions to gag out the naughty nouns in my life.
I have quit; turned in my lust for performing the lioness, paw-licking,
snarly creature: the predator of my youth, and now,
I am pretty-headed, tamed in bath oils and schedules;
a spotted fox, in plain view, one medium-sized mammal getting by.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 5:05 PM UTC
Oh they pleaded,
women, men
young and old,
'let us pass through that sea'
to a place where we could start all over',
yet their voices fall into deaf ears
of their brothers and sisters
from another mother land,
hopeless they remain drifted
in the treacherous sea
feeling unwanted, unloved
forever rejected,
by the policies of the modern
migration...
the unworthy sea-going boat,
becomes their coffin
and the sea and the seafloor become
their graveyards,
the common fate of boat people - the asylum seekers.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 1:44 AM UTC
smoke.
the smell of nicotine
rests on my black
graphic t-shirt.
the dwell of misery
rests on my back,
while music reverbs.
my black vans are
filthy with the weight
of pain.
a wallet,
filled with little notes.
writings from her
in my back pocket.
a very lonely bench awaits
my place as i sit and
try to out smoke
this familiar mental state.
i look out into the
water ahead, the creek’s
liquid mirror reflecting
her aura.
“oh god, not again.”
a sudden and sharp spike
of sadness runs through
me, a longing tear trails
my frozen cheeks.
then i remember him,
and how much i miss him.
i remember him calling out
for me along with mom,
and how harmoniously my
heart would pump gallons
upon gallons of hot burning
blood.
hot burning love.
i take another drag to mask
the molecules of reality
that i wish i wouldn’t have
to inhale.
i look up
at the aligning stars,
and by the grace
of the god i do not
believe in
do i tell you
that i let out a cry
so loud, that he himself must’ve
felt heaven shake.
with water flooding
my brown eyes, i
yelled and pleaded
whatever being
that could hear me
to end me, because
i tell you that
all this pain,
of missing certain people,
of longing for lost love,
of experiencing incompleteness,
of feeling so ******* unable to stand up,
of combatting the poison guilt is,
drags.
at my soul,
harder
than cigarette
smoke.
-melancholicreator
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
With the onset of the sun in the horizon, the little creatures awake
And dance and sing melodies tantamount to a group of chortling people
Oh, how i wish such convival sights be captured
And played back on repeat everytime you feel low
As vagabonds they fly in search of food and shelter
And when the sun does set, off they disappear in their nests
Robbing the nature of its beauty
For every day they have to give a survival test(from their carnivore counterparts)
The broke pigeon was no different, her eyes gleamed better than Cindrella's did
The vicissitudes of life had rendered it to be a mendicant.
But she was a resilient creature and she continued her fight everyday
Her condition started to exacerbate when she laid 4 snow like eggs
Gathering twig by twig and working for an entire afternoon meticulously
She made a perfect home for her babies which were about to hatch
Be it a human or a bird, mothers always foster the children
Off she slipped into a reverie of a bright future with her kids
But the evil nature had its own sinister plans
Her thoughts were interrupted by a cacophony of sounds of other birds
She knew the sound was ominous
Peeping out of the nest she saw a dozen eagles encircling the tree
Her blood ran cold, she wrapped the eggs around her and a teardrop made its way from her eye
The leader of the eagles stoop towards her and hit her with a beak
The broke pigeon pleaded for its life saying-"I will offer myself to you as soon as my kids learn to fly"
The Machiavillian eagle agreed at first, flew up high,leaving the broke pigeon to heave a sigh of relief
The sigh was a short lived one as it swoop down with two other eagles on the broke pigeon
Performing an act of utter perfidy, there was a sly smile on its face
Turn by turn they devoured the broke pigeon
And kicked the eggs down the nest
It was a brutal ****** much more heinous than the ones we see
But there was none to witness the fate of the broke pigeon
And even if there were, they'd never know the events that transpired
Never know.. never know.. never know..
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
life didn't have to end up in such a place
I'm stuck, no escape, it's to much, it's making me go apes
all I see here is nothing but shame, regrets, and sadness upon everyone's face.....
grew up into what the world views as a **** up, someone who never made it, someone that just wouldn't come to a stop
it slowly developed as a 10 year old who began smoking ****
18 now, **** became his need
I'm happy as can, theres no-one around tell what I can't do, I don't have to come to a stop
next thing you know theres knock on the door
oh **** it's a cop
promised the cop I'd throw away anything that has to due with drugs
but the cop was way to smart for that, so he stayed and made sure I did what said
instead all I did was hide all of it under my bed
a month later the same cop returned, I tried running but I'm only 103 pounds and haven't seen sunlight for more than then a day
he caught me in the quickness, I pleaded and pleaded that he let me go
"I'm only doing this for your own good, don't you remember me, I'm your only brother, please stop trying to runaway"
didn't recognize him at first until I looked him straight in his eyes
I began to tear up but I didn't want to cry
the pain was getting held back, next thing you now I black out
he thought I was going die
he rushed me to the hospital and everything made sense
that's where I truly opened up my eyes
he wasn't a cop and this wasn't me
I was just in the land of the killer demon bees
that place was where I felt like I was in charge and had nothing but power
now I'm sitting in a place I call home
thinking hour after hour
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 5:42 PM UTC
Sofia clung tightly to the black tipped violet wings of the tenuous butterfly.
She softly pleaded to the intricate friend.
"Please stay," a tear caressing her cheek,
"don't leave me."
Her mother walked up behind her.
"Oh honey, don't hang onto his wings, you will only **** him."
Sofia turned to her mother's chocolate eyes and quietly muttered,
"Let go of my wings mommy."
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
Your song on repeat
like a soundtrack to pain
and with every listen
I feel you again
Just as soon as I forgot
but I can't let you go
now that you've tugged my sleeve
and pleaded me, no
But your face in my mind
is not close to me anymore
I looked through the window
just as you closed the door
and saw you glance back
but never turn around
Some things that are lost
are dead and can't be found
The song of your heart
I understood back then
too well to believe now
I'll never see you again
You were a sister to me,
so your brother is my brother, too
Now you are his brother
and I don't know what to do
except to sing
except to miss you
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 7:50 PM UTC
In a world of goblins, orcs and the likes there lived a hero. This hero was a person of peasant blood and a friend to the weak. Every day the people of his little village would go to him for help. The hero would never turn them away, and always solved their problems. However, the day came for them to ask of a task too large. The hero was sent out to fight a battalion of goblins, orcs and trolls. This battalion was well known for being the most ruthless and devastating in all the land. Everywhere they went they left a trail of destruction and despair. But the hero being bound by honor went to confront them head on. He sliced through the goblins with his expertly crafted sword. He pierce the flesh of the orcs with the precise shots of his bow. It was truly a sight to see, one man taking on an army. But much to the villagers dismay, by the time he got to the trolls, his quiver was empty and his sword had broke. He still took them on with his bare fists. As if possessed by a beast, the hero tore through lines of the battalion slaughtering all in his path. None stood a chance until he reached the one who lead the battalion of death. Without saying a word, the hero grabbed the leader by the neck and lifted him off the ground. Squirming in his iron grip, the leader begged and pleaded for his life to be spared. The hero contemplated this for a time but the leader had tricked him, he pulled his dagger from his sleeve and stabbed the hero. The hero succeeded in saving the village that day, and that's why we're left with you. The son of a hero who gave his own life to save his people. The fate of the village left in the gauntlets of his son prodigy. there's only one problem with that: you don't know how to be a hero. You can't fight, in fact, you can barely pick up a sword. The mere chance that you would've failed to get even one of your fathers traits is amazing. With you being the best "hero" we've got left, you're being sent to a larger city to train. The shining city of Miridas, a cultural capitol and center of innovation. There you will me the man who will cultivate your potential and temper your skills. That is, if you have any skills. You leave tomorrow at dawn, to start your new life.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 4:32 AM UTC
She shouted from the roof tops
Her love for him
And how it would never stop
He simply stared at her
In utter shock
nobody could ever love me
Or so he thought...
She smiled with her arms spread apart
Waiting for a response
He stood there silently
Unable to move but wanting to walk
Walk away from the lies
Cause he'd been hurt too many times
She begged and pleaded
Trying to make him believe
It's the truth she said
But he couldn't respond
Simply turned around to leave
women only hurt me
Was all he could believe
Too much pain and abuse
For those lies to become the truth
She sunk inside herself
Filled with pain and so many tears
After years of trying
She finally faced her fears
Only to be hit with rejection
Imperfections of love
Shown at there finest
She couldn't stand her thoughts...
He slowed his walk
Thought about the past
Suddenly came to realize
This life is your last
And there on that roof top
He may have finally found some hope
So he stopped his walk
Turned around to accept the truth
Only to find
That she had jumped off...
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
At 5 I was convinced I was
a flower
whose vocation was imitating
their final hysterical
wail
once Winter awoke from its
anorexia.
I pleaded my case with
a botanist
whose seamstress wife consented to stitch
a tutu of Kadupul
flowers,
like a fairy godmother warning of their death at
dawn.
At 16 I finally danced
their goodbye,
petals whisked off as if molted
layers of skin
and only when at the end I stood naked
did the concept of death have
definition.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
I am a masterpiece
beautifully crafted by you
I am a canvas of bliss
painted in a vibrant hue.
Yet you never admired me
instead, you ignored the beauty within
how cruel is my destiny
the end of me is about to begin.
You disheveled my peace
I pleaded but there was no sound
slowly, piece by piece
I fell on the hard ground.
Soon, I will feel no pain
for the strong me is now awake
one day, I shall stand again
and by then, I'll be a wonderful mosaic.
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
She knelt and she pleaded
For a world of peace
She knelt and she pleaded
To save a friend in need
She fought for what is right
While giving all her power and might
Yet there's still the anger
Gripping her tight
It hurt her
To see how her world is fooled
By a prideful man
Who continues the feud
She has accepted the offer
Of death itself
For she knows who she is
And she is the Mockingjay
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
Once
The sun was beautiful. She moved with the sky and never ceased to shine,
But
She soon became ill. Tired of herself.
The moon watched her every night, grow to dim more and more.
The moon whispered to her each night "Why so beautiful but so sad? WHy have you stopped shining my favorite star?
The sun dimmer and cracked her once melodic voice now in comparison of sand paper, yet fragile as a leaf in Fall.
"I've simply forgotten the beauty of myself."
Each night the moon would cry. his tears making the most beautiful stars.
He would tell the sun his tears reminded him of her exquisite beauty. She would only sigh and remain dim, for she could not see his love if she did not love herself.
The pain and torture of inner hate did what all pain does.
It began to **** the once beautiful sun.
The moon would call to her still, and show her his stars but she could no longer look
For they outshone her each and every night
So she hid
And she cried
And she weakened
The sky screamed for her, cracking the grounds,
Crashing the waves
Moaning in the loss of their sun
And when she died the earth went still
The sky made no sound, created no catastrophe
But the moon
The moon screamed earthquakes that split the world in two
Howled Winds that confused nature of its purpose
Cried oceans that grew deeper the more his sorrow filled them
When we came to the moon and asked
Why he cried oceans and screamed earthquakes
He sat
In molded Silence
And stared where she once rose each dawn
He claimed she was once beautiful in a sorrowful timeless voice.
Who?
His love.
He told us of her glimmering smile that awoke the world gently each dawn
He told of her shining hair that reached the very farthest and darkest parts of the earth and welcomed what it touched with warmth and love
He told us how she would dance across the sky as though it was her partner
And then
He told of her in a different way
Where she no longer glimmered and shined
Her scent no longer of summer, but of a sick winters child
Her hair, pale and dead
Her skin ashen as though a blow of the wind and she would disappear like dust
She no longer danced, but hid, sauntered, concealed her beauty from even herself
He told us why the stars were so vast, that each night he cried and mourned her and his tears made the most beautiful stars
He bestowed millions to her each night, telling her their beauty was in no comparison to hers
But she would only sigh and turn away
When he ended his tell tale of broken love
We had become stone in his garden of aching hearts
And again he turned his back to us and moaned to the universe that made each planet, star, galaxy, bow its head in sorrow for his lost love
He begged, pleaded, for her
He begged into eternity, with only silence to greet his presence
And when every star, galaxy, and planet had died he remained
Calling for her
Wishing to see her dance through his no longer existent sky
When he finally gave in he fell from the universe into oblivion
A stone moon that died with an aching heart.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC