Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kaliedoscope colors, shaped as a rectangle outline of my door-
and I can't go out and see the beauty of it. A gray room,
with a blue face, laced into rushing in another pumping day.
Provoke the guilt, wilted meaning every breathing being has.
I'll leave someday, in someway, maybe not this moon fall,
but I know I can't live, thoroughly at all-
All feedback is welcome.
My divulging outcries should
match the anguished weeks we've had. I've deceived all of
you with obscured replies, and now this distrustful person
I am is hard to understand. But you see, I can't decipher myself,
for I'm a traveler of my own heartbreak. A nomad without a map, searching for this knack to surviving. Deserted on scattered land, and each fighting "I'm okay" evolves me more lost. An unsolvable destination to which discovered, I may uncover a pumping, breathing new body and fresh spirit clean of a blemished memory. Deprived and striving; I'm holding on for that revival of flared hope, to where I cope with these thoughts in a better way. How long can you
thrive on nothing?
Will I last today?
----------------------
I hold everything in, and then I break. No one gets what I'm feeling, because it usually happens a long time beforehand.
cait-cait Apr 2018
i put my hands on your throat ;

veins pumping red
like little boats
inside the storm ,

your hands tangle around me ,
they grasp, tug, hit:
and this is a fight that
i am losing.

outside, it snows ,
and my pink skins flushes red
as you have burned me
from the inside out .

everything becomes white , when
you touch me
for the first time ,

and then i cry when you hit me .
.

we kiss.
he kissed me and it felt like i got hit.
Jaxey Oct 2018
Hot coco tastes like chocolate
Popcorn tastes like salt
Cats feel too soft
Dogs bark too loud
I'm hungry so I will eat
I'm thirsty so I will drink
I'm tired so I will sleep
I’m alive so I will be
My brain is working
My heart is pumping
I am alive
But I am not living
What are emotions again?
Knit Personality Mar 2016
My heart will beat for many things
    So long as I have breath;
But when it throbs it throbs for you;
    And then it throbs to death.

Throbbing or not, I want you there
    In every single beat:
Become my lifeblood, pumping pulse,
    Vitality and heat.
ryn Nov 2014
Shhh...can you hear me?
I'm hardly a pin
I'm hardly a mile away
Shhh...do you know the pain I'm in?

Look...can you see me?
I'm hiding behind shadowed eyes
And a mask of smiles
Look...will you look past the honest lies?

Taste...can you palate the bitterness?
Sharp and acrid accusations
Dancing on wagging tongues
Taste...will you swallow what is given?

Touch...can you feel my failing muscles?
Every fibre losing this very battle
A futile fight I must concede
Touch...will you save the pieces that crumble?

Read...can you make sense of my heart?
Pounding behind its bony cage
Pumping red into my desperate nib
Read...can you understand the ink staining my page?

Shhh*...can you hear me?
I don't think you can
For I have ceased to speak
In the universe of man
Bijan Rabiee Aug 2018
Life is a puzzle
That won't be solved
By the argument of your mind.
It can neither be cracked
In ivory towers
Nor in the parlors of grapevine.
The mystery of life
Crowns the benighted
With a twist of a wand
Leaving the enlightened
To commune with the dark.
At best, it is a glass enclosure
Attuning your moves
Along the belt of blessing
Beneath the shelter of stars
And at its worst,
A dungeon floor
Delineating your lot
In unbending reality
Under the dome of despair.
Exposed to eternal pumping
Of raw information,
Student of life knows
But a speck of curricula
At any given time
The process of life's lessons
Extend well beyond the grave
Not even multiple lifetimes
May suffice to scratch the surface
Let alone discover the core
Yet the student of life
Knows no limit
Goes to village today
And metropolis tomorrow
Mounts a mustang to Shangri-la
Hops on a boat to outland.
Tantamount to the amount of stars
Are pictures of life
Full of synonyms and antonyms
Boding inflections and reflections
Of thought, taste and bearing
In the academy of day-and-night.
Third Eye Candy Apr 2013
Gemini in seasonable  evening,
serenely swirling in Septemberous
ferris wheels
reeling in the vast domain
of lonesome leviathans
and witch-fires;
nowhere bound in the boundless fecundity
[ the feral joys of creation... ]
twins
meander in gravity's
well of souls,
swollen with unknowns and proteins;
golden rods in pointless foam
brewing the elixir vitae
in the Dippers cup. the Milky Way,
a wayward gush
from an ancient Mother Goddess,
plump and shameless, pumping teats
to nurse worlds
infused with divine rays of gamma and x...
why set dark apart
from firmament burning
spheres?

dragons
must clutch eggs in the void
as much
as fork tongue white dwarfs.
of course, the Source
unfolds
as  Love does. it's purpose,
in thrall of fearless veracity,
spinning yarns for glad garments
to clothe the naked dread
of such fearful symmetries
as roam the wild delights
of the infinite
meringue.

the Pi
on the window sill,
tempting the circular frame of reference
to square with the sublime Will.
another Fibonacci in your
bedpost,
to better hobnob with
broomsticks.
everything annihilates hatred.
from within,
we sojourn to sovereign super-continents
of opulent peace.
profound realities surge serpentine
with Meaning.
we are outdone on the inside by small minds
and farcical
hearts.

so at night
look up.

Love's Tongue Is
Love's
Word.
Graff1980 Sep 2018
Nobody knows the
the darker corners
of my decrepit soul,

a stale and stinky
nasty shrinking
***** of abstraction,
that is less than
a fraction
of nothingness,

a shadowy space
where people cringe
and strangers displace
their rage
till tension and resentment
fill this smelly place.

Nobody knows
that my heart
does not grow
but disposes
of the red roses,
dripping paint
of crimson pain,

beatings
taken in exchange
for struggles
and anguish,
pumping out plump
plumes of poetry
and prose
to express the truth,

that nobody knows.
The uniVerse Aug 2017
words at most
are sign posts
never touching
what's real
minds watching
yearning to feel
and at least
the beasts
of burden
I'm sorry
i beg your pardon
i didn't mean those words
that cut to the bone
the words said in anguish
the words that you moan
love has its own language
that communicates by touch
you speak to me
you tell me so much
the words I weave
are a cry for help
please don't leave
this is what I felt
fault lines through and through
cracks in my sentences
words no longer the glue
the endless relentlessness
of thoughts
circling like sharks
they haunt
my deepest parts
the weakest heart
pumping out words
of dread
this is what I said
you said
the words that line our bed
sleeping on novels
we are apostles
of language
tell me how you manage
all your words
how do you discard them
with such ease
no gratitude
no need
your smile
sells more
empty words
than I could ever write
I'm never right
how could I be
when words are all I see
so please
use your lips
to silence my sentences
wrap your tongue
around my words
i promise you some
you've never heard.
words words words
what are they for
I don't want words
I want something more

https://www.instagram.com/p/ByQesvrH0_q/
Stephen E Yocum Sep 2018
Visiting a friend on his Quarter
Horse farm, the day sunny and warm.
We walked out to his brood mare
pasture, the ladies were running,
awaiting and sunning, anticipation
in the air and their nervous behavior.

Noble his name, consistency his game,
a reliable aging stallion, sire to many
fine sons and daughters, years of proven
pairings, came halter led and prancing.


He had their scent and his spirit awakened,
the three ladies believed to be in season began
to snigger and whinny, their excitement growing
as the stallion entered their grassy domain,
the dance was about to commence.

The handler led the big fella' forward,
both sides began their quizzical inspections.
one young felly more aggressively willing
than the others. Noble excitedly returned
her heightened interest.

Within a few minutes Noble began to rear up,
he knew his job, his august appendage extended,
trying several times to mount his mate intended,
adrenaline pumping his back legs began to shake,
on his fourth failed attempt the eager proven
suitor fell to the ground, rolled over, paused for
a moment and struggled to stand on unsteady legs.
Appearing somewhat embarrassed.

The mare moved aside, kicked her hind legs in
the stallion's direction, whinnied loudly and
ran away. Rejected the old stallion stood looking
perplexed, failure was something unknown to him.
His spirit was willing but his aging body was weak.
The old stud slowly returned to the barn, his head
hung low, no longer prancing.

For every time and being there is a season, aging
is part of the cycle, like this stallion, we all reach
this moment of understanding. Sometimes gracefully,
most times with stunned disbelief.

From Noble to nothing in one afternoon.
The allegorical parable here is impossible
to ignore. Unless your are twenty four.
Sidney Chase May 2016
falling for you
stings like a mosquito
******* your strawberry blood
pumping through your veins
attempting to reach your amending heart
unsteady breaths rapidly increase
hoping this bite won't sting like the last
Sebastian Macias Sep 2017
River of dark lust and pain
Clouds draping over the trees
A storm has passed through here
Mist and fog in every direction
I know how cold it is
Within my bones, she aches
Blood is pumping faster
After each step deep and deeper
My eyes are heavy, focused on
You and I at a battle
You're in a long satin black dress
Covered in old blood stains
I am naked and beat and bleeding
Your tongue is 5 feet long
Lashing at me, your claws are high
Screaming at my direction
Still as possible, I look deeper inside
Colder, and colder the night falls on us
You scratch at me, I shift my head
There is music we both hear
It's pumping more and more blood
We share one heart
I get jacked
on the +

my habitual needle
pumping somedays
into my veins

it's how
I stonewall
this tsunami of pain
Next page