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Elué R G Nov 2018
I'm afraid to see your eyes change;
I'm afraid to see them rage.
I'm afraid to see a tear rolling down your cheek
when I tell you what I did.

I deserve a slap;
I deserve to feel the stinging pain.
I deserve to hear you snap
to keep your voice inside my brain

Attatch your words around my neck;
Attatch them with a burning chain.
Just so I can feel the pain
I swear I won't complain

I regret every single moment I've spent away,
I'm sorry I ran away,
for I did an stupidity
In the process of escaping this reality.

It looks like this is a sad romantc story
Deb Jones Oct 2017
Cataclysmic entities
Earth, wind, water and Fire
Have joined forces
To teach us a life lesson
About taking them for granted
Earthquakes
Hurricanes
Tsunamis and flooding
Fires burning so fast people
Can't evacuate soon enough.
It feels like Biblical prophesies
Are happening so fast
How many of us will outlast
This chapter in our lives
We are scarring our land
With fissures
With withered shrubs
With thousands of acres filled
With blackened stumps
With flooded cities
With mud and mold
With countries devastated
With yet still, talk of nuclear war
With so many people
Without the simple basics
Without water to drink
Without food to eat
Things we normally take for granted
My states treasures are burning so fast.
Napa Valley has been wiped out
So many deaths and lives left
Unaccounted for...
The blind and deaf elderly
Woman who died in her driveway
The 26 year old wheelchair bound
Woman who was forgotten by her own father.
The elderly couple trying to save
One another
But the fires were burning to hot and fast.
Miniature Stephen King stories
Of unimaginable horror and pain.
But yet...
The mass shootings carry on too
The police accused of brutality
While still trying to save others
It's never enough
The Trump pretense
The microphones ****** in the faces of people during the lowest point in their lives
And yet...
The undauntable human spirit
Continues to thrive.
The rescued, the rescuers.
The beleaguered, the relievers
The respect.
Media, leave us alone to try and Fix our homes and hearts.
Don't feed on our immediate pain
But don't go too far
Just wait until we are ready...
For our close ups
Xaela San Jul 2018
Dancing under this beautiful moonlight

My wings brought us high as the mountains could reach;

Listening to the songs of the wind whispering in our ears;

As the stars illuminated us with its light

And through our hearts beats in unison

Our love grew strong as time passed;

For I looking in your ever green eyes shines

Our memories, our histories of hardships

Like raging waves of ocean's wrath upon us;

Like you looking in my ever violet eyes

Brings back memories of how we hold our hands

Under those cherry blossoms in spring's time

Of the time we survived the stormy seas;

Of us looking up in the night's sky starry view

And of us looking through our own breath in the winter's cold night

Like you said "you are my darkness and i am your light"

It is a fate of two lovely souls of opposites

Truly one and extraordinary yet never old;

Yet the story of our love was heard from the heavens and hell

Eldest, my master, the God of Gods was disgraced;

Hades, your father, the king of the underworld was disgusted;

For I an angel, a guardian of Eldest's kingdom

Fell in love with the darkness' son;

Our love caused chaos and wrath in the heaven's peace;

And made hell burn a thousand times its self in anger;

Eldest, whom was displease, cast my death

Upon my soul and separated us with his command

Like I, a flower dying with its own roots

Withered and had slowly losing its own life;

Yet as we stand forth and supported each other

Our hearts connected even after death's command

As the reaper stand and awaits to take your soul,

To take you back to the place you belong;

There is nothing we could do but accept this inevitable

As our beating crimson heart cries silently;

For even the Wraths and the Gods do us apart

Our fathers and masters hated this love;

Like the night meets the light at dawn;

Our souls will find its way back in each others arm;

Even us can not cease this burning desire

To never let go of our ties;

In this world or in our illusions

It is our story worth dying with;

Even the history goes on, we shall live in eternity

As the story of the night that meets the light at dawn.
Shadow Dragon Aug 2018
Guys like broken girls
because they are no pillow princesses.
They are raging animals in cages
waiting for any bite
of raw meat they can put their claws in.
September Roses May 2018
Once we were on fire
Young    rebeliouse   free
We stormed the castles and took to the skies we flew we dreamed
We were ablaze our light setting raging screaming fire to the world around us
When our thoughts could not sit in silence any longer
When the kids were engulfed by a wave of fury of the injustice done by this world before we were even here
We screamed and demanded
OUR VOICES WOULD BE HEARD
But now it rains
Now the cold heavy water blankets the restless
The fire has been drenched in worry and stress
The brutal downpour has distracted all with false life or death
The blaze once 100 feet high now nothing but a charred soul

And all the ones put out by the rain
to tired to fight again,
pray on the generation next
That their fire is enough to best the storm
Salmabanu Hatim Oct 2018
She was a raging inferno,
Touch her and perish,
A roaring inferno,
Burns your soul to ashes.
As she raged against the dying light,
Crazy, I craved only for her,
Praying she would go gentle in the night,
My eyes blazed for her like a meteor.
Within me, her anger raised sensual  emotions,
With my gentle love, I desired to tame her,
That was my firm resolution,
And one day,on her lava soil would bloom our little flower.
ThePoet Apr 2016
Rushing ecstasy
Intensive flow
Rising high
Crashing low
Raging apathy
Falling apart
Chaotic outbreak
Back to the start
KaylaMarie Jun 12
The only peace I find these days are in the middle of a storm;
I know it sounds weird.
Everybody begins running inside but it brings me peace finally knowing the only storm isn’t the one raging inside of me,
at least for a few minutes.
I see the rain start filling the streets and I can finally take a deep breath because I’m not the only one drowning anymore,
at least for now.
Everybody starts making preparations and stocking up on items and for once, I’m not the only one going through the motions in order to be okay.
ymmiJ Apr 20
Can you feel my flame
No flicker, roaring raging
Passion, my heart burns
Engulfing old dead blazes
Building torches held for you
Apologies. The haiku needed more, so it's a tanka. It grew!!
Herb Apr 5
For better or worse
It's the omen's curse
No use to rehearse
Fortunes in reverse

Bad tidings are loose
The world's neck in a noose
For those too obtuse
Explanation, no use

Ashes on your head
The enemy is Dread
By Ignorance it is fed
To Mystery it is wed

Pray if you must
Your dreams are a bust
They lay in the dust
Decaying to rust

There's only bad luck
In Limbo you're stuck
Feet mired in the muck
Reality has struck

Will misfortunes lift?
As the heavens shift
The Sands of Time sift
To seal the Dark Rift

Earth still revolves
The future evolves
And danger devolves
As lunacy resolves

Wait out the pain
Full moon will wane
Insanity turns sane
Peace you'll regain
Becca Lansman Jul 2018
My body and mind are at war
two beings occupying the same skin

the diverged desire firing bullets into the heart
creating a cacophony of chaos within me

One--
******* the jar of peanut butter
hidden by the blanket of dark sky
hugging the fridge like a newborn
caressing the chocolate bar wrapper

Two--
crouched over
crying in the shower
pinching my skin until bright pink, hot
with anger

trying to resurrect myself into someone more holy
trying to starve
out the monster within

only to find myself back on the bathroom tile singing gospel songs into the toilet bowl.

a cyclical strom
that will not stop raging

like a perverted lover
always, somehow
dragging you back home.
Aly Feb 6
We are two waves upon the raging seas, pulling away in opposite directions.
Words like the harsh winds of an autumn storm. Swirling and circling waters of deep blue.
Rising up in competition, lifting high above the surface.
With  edges of foamy white that fold slowly..quickly tumbling downward.
Hear the shout of broken water... crashing upon the shore.

What happened to those pleasant summer days? With the calm, graceful dance of the  waves swaying playfully in the warm sun.
Gliding smoothly  on the sand like pages turning in a book.
Rocking slowly beneath the moonlight.
Whispering it’s gentle song.

Not these enraged, hostile waters I can barely recognize.
Waves strangled by more waves.
Slowly sinking down to the ocean floor.
Trapped.
arian Jan 11
these silhouettes strolled across, through the creaking bridge,
walked on it as if they didn't notice the noise,
stepped on it like they knew which path to take next,
but one thing they knew was that they had to cross over
without knowing it would break and took them down
and fed them to the raging waves below.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Away, I’d like to sail away from this land locked life;
free to sail to dreams and lives beyond my own.

I dream of lands where warm winds fan my soul,
and freedom follows me to shores where time forgot.

An anchor tied around my neck, this life has come to be.
Give me strength to find the way in this desert wasteland.

Away, I’d like to sail away, free to grow and live.
This raging need to be myself is screaming to be heard.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Jesse stillwater Jul 2018
there are the ones
that feel it climb up
the shadow towards the light,
hesitation on every rung,
each wave of the arising
      overwhelms  unabated ―
and woe betides those
who are on the run
from a storm's deluge


A rousing ocean breeze
stirs inside the memory
of an unframed seashell
lying on the hearth mantel;
heightened sensitivity
lapping soundlessly,
spindrift plashing
the shoreline
of another world's
feigned peace


Perhaps the muted voice
of guilty pleasures,
hushed by their own
hidden truths
Feeling the unfelt textures
of every stifled vibration
left unbreathed


The naked truth befallen
so cold and lonely
Running in circles,
volatile as all those
     unspoken excitations raging ―
and the whispers of those
who hear not
the voices in the wind


An emotionally enslaved  heart
tarries,  marooned high and dry
in a memory on a distant sand bar
     lain fallow for so long ―
stagnant darkness
of an unsated soul
gathered on the back
of a parched tongue
sullied wordless


Rising up through
a dusty hieroglyph corridor
through an unlocked
labyrinth gate;  vestige echoes
from somewhere left behind
in an incomprehensible
abandoned wake


It's getting harder and harder
   for an insatiable soul to breathe ...
   climbing up a tree trunk―
up within the silence
of the listening tree


  Toes dug into
the rough bark furrows ―
fingers reaching upwards
beyond their deepest known grasp


A shadow stranded
out on a hangin' bough
hearkening without ears that hear:
“perhaps they’ll listen now“  
the wingless bird sings
in psalms that fly away
on tattered feathers
over untamed waters roil


Back to nature’s waning youth,
the bough bends unbroken
to taste the freedom
of the wild absolving seas



Jesse Stillwater
June     2018
Notes:                                                                                                          
a friend sent  a link to a deeply thought provoking modern classic 70's song about Vincent Van Gogh and the complexities of imperfection some of us relate .... i'd listened to the words prior but never heard before now.

  Title is last final lyric line from:  "Vincent" (Starry, Starry night) 1971
Writer(s): DON MCLEAN, ENRICO NASCIMBENI,
ROBERTO VECCHIONI
L B Sep 2016
Route 84 would not lend me
the light of a star last night
Radio blazing at 75 mph
nonsense noise to chew gum by
Crackling political commentary
Static of distance and thick clouds
Invisible mountains blocking
Memories seeping through the cracks
coating the music in a film
I rub my eyes
watch myself punch alert buttons
But it’s the angels’ jukebox tonight

Roll down the window
Watch the heat escape

Summer again

I am building a castle of ancient stones
pulverized by relentless tides
Dragged across maps by mastodons
and mammoth glaciers
The scouring hiss
the ocean sighs
Time has lulled these smoothly
rolling them in the softest hands of sand
and gels of life’s comings and goings
tenderly tumbling
in the millionth moonrise—
Time deposits them here
wet and glistening

For the girl with the plaid two-piece to gather
Shoulders sun-burnt barely say
one week only,
one week of the fifty two
“It’s the time of the season…”
and daddies on the beach are watching….

She has chosen yet another stone
And the castle continues—
in oblivion to all but her legend…

     The queen will be safe here
     from the rabble
     The disgraced Tristan will surely seek her
     Among these lofty cliffs
     Between the raging circuit of the tide
     Here winds forbid the vengeful mob
     Here lovers learn
     the debt of love’s bad timing
     “Drink ye all of it!”
     --the potion that assigns our sorrow….
     She will not sleep—
     while I chew this gum--  GUM?

Roll down the window!

Angels escape with the heat
Waking me with the brush of their wings

As that eighteen-wheeler hugs my flank
And leans on the horn
Lights flashing
Rude rumbling under right tires
Tantrum of snow
In the draft of mass and velocity

…and the angels?
They’ve chosen another good one!
They must’ve liked the 80’s
Their wings slapping the windshield madly  
Their hands steady the wheel
As a fourteen-year old, I picked up a book to read at the beach about the legend of the lovers, Tristan and Iseult.  I was so captivated by their story that it ruled my imagination that summer.  

Anyway, I still think of it when I think of the ocean-- as I did on this cold dark occasion when I should have pulled off somewhere for a coffee, but I was trying to beat the snow storm home.
Route 84, also known as Dead Bambi Highway, has a desolate, treacherous section going over the mountains between NY and Pennsylvania.  Didn't have much option for music at the time, so I leaned heavily on the radio pushing the search button to find anything bearable-- not too much static.
Song reference in this: "Time of the Season" by the Zombies-- all time favorite beach song that happened to be on the radio that night.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBxK3CcOQD8
Tammy M Darby Aug 2013
Royalty
She dwells in the sea- green palace of her father
The mermaid swam alone on blustery days
The seed of the water god Neptune and a river nymph
Her beauty blind the sun and his morning rays

On days of boredom
She swam with the white dolphins
Riding high on heaving rolling waves
Other times with Omura's whales dive deep
Or play in a red coral reef bay
Tickling blue ***** that walked on the sandy bottom
Exploring the dark octopus caves

Floating often with the deadly jellyfish
Keeping her scaled tail very still
Or wiggling through the raging currents of the ocean
With the graceful ribbon eels

The day passed passed
She became weary
Came time to rest her head
Returned to the flowing green kelp palace
And did sleep on a starfish bed



All Rights Reserved @Tammy M Darby August 2013.
All Material Stored in Author Base
Bea Autumn Nov 2018
Swimming in this river current
Guided by its endless flow
Trying to make my way to reach your side
on this endless rivers tide
This raging current torment
I'm swimming for my life
To get it right this time with him
Down underwater dark & deep
Seeping inside my skin so cold
I'm wet down to my bones
Only by my love to make it through
No maps or routes nor guided plan
Just waves of this current over flow
Holding out hoping waiting still
swimming breathlessly I'm knowing
My rescue by his hands he will
karin naude Jan 2014
a storm raging in my chest cavity
refusing to yield
relentlessly battering my convictions
my one great weakness
immoral conduct of a "community leader"
my self-destructive vice
my Christian duty compel me to fight my vice
my conscience keeping score
my one enemy i cannot destroy
deliverance!
Umi Mar 2018
Of ones heart with shadows lurking to take over spite is made precious to be felt exciting while it is in fact trecious, but a sleeping terror awakens at times as well, thus a rampage is made amongst it,
A thrill wandering down your spine when you wrong someone and see them tremble through your actions a cold shiver followed by spite
Choosing a carefree life, yet unable to hide the fact that no spark would be able to illuminate whats in your dark, where angels fear to tread, only to explore this loitering abyss within you for some time,
All this blood lust must bring you to insanity, make you a lunatic,
But let it happen, in this emotionless shell it's what feels majestic,
The storm raging inside, waiting to feed on this caused chaos,
Evil and vile, heartless not carrying a smile while mercilessly continuing this riot of a resented soul waiting, longing for destruction
Feeling alike to be burning up, priceless about this act of cruelty until the wanted realisation drives its way into your soul and you question yourself what you have done, or why you have done it for anyway,
But the time will come again for sure, so be ready for it to arrive
When the sleeping terror awakens for another dance

~ Umi
Addiction *****
It's such a killer
Addictions fun
A raging thriller

Weathers its a bag of twack
Or a fat green sack
It doesn't really matter
You could shoot pancake batter

**** or ****
*** with Beth
Just remember its not fiction
That disease you have is called addiction

See it works in such a horrid way
It controls you'r thoughts and what you say
And when it comes down to the end of the day
You probably going to do what it takes to pay
© Zachary J Morsette 2013
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