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writerReader Feb 2015
i am watching life and
it's running so fast and

it goes up toward the
pure white stars and
the brown dirt

the blue sky

the black night

but i'm melting

my mind is too tired to sleep
but it's too drunk to run.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Accidents and misfortunes crowding my life
choking out pleasures reserved for a lucky few.
Not realizing that they were there for me too, just to look for
passed by as I chose to look back, blinded to what could have been.

Running in circles skirting the truth
looking for lost moments, ticking into eternity.
My hope is in this new life that I’ve found
awakening the child I’d lost, now born again in you.

You’ve taught me to live, to look now for the simple and pure;
a glass of ***** Cana or a flock of cranes grazing on a hill.
Moving together in the rhythm of jazz
in the early morning sounds and light reflecting on you.

Your beautiful face, angelic in the morning light.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
jane taylor May 2016
deliquescing into nature
i am engulfed in stillness

i encounter a deer as i round a corner
its chestnut eyes intensely sense
something wild within me
we meld palpably
whispering our essence

myopic views warp into acute focus
golden flowers stretch and arch
and yawning into the sun
swell with bursts of luster
whilst violets polka dot the path
with lilac luminescence

dead tree trunks
mutating into masterpieces
yearn for new life
drawing in the squirrels

yellow-bellied birds
sensing my motions
whilst woodland winds undulate
pine scented waves of sea salt oceans

my ears enchantingly enhanced
by bristling leaves caressing trees
as scintillating amber butterflies
dance in synch
with the clock tower’s
ancient chiming

a gust of wind
catches a patch of sand
and sends it quivering
fusing high in summer air
then falling soft as feathers

hidden fairies prance about
answering unheard questions
problems dissolve in emerald meadows
without a hint of striving

essays write themselves
upon my mind
poetry flows through me
wings of meadowlarks
trace my face with nuances
interlaced with connotations

rushing home
i write it down
then bowing i take credit
for what was etched upon my soul
by a sunbeam in the forest

Jesse stillwater Aug 2018
Driving up mountain miles
of washboard switchbacks;
jarring the dusty rearview mirror
in my mind:

"but don't look back in anger"  
... I heard you say
stuck in the cloud of dust
befogging my daydream
back somewhere thereabouts
the washed out bridge
that tore us apart
like a flash flood

It was so long ago
since you were running
and I was hiding in plain sight,
from what the storm
in my eyes did tell

Mindful — you were only watching
the growing distance gather;

finding what you didn't lose
looking back to see
   what you can't forget —

like a hesitant child
reluctantly wondering
if anyone was still looking back
at you ―  still running away
from each passing storm

Jesse Stillwater
June   2018
Thank you for reading my soul scribbles
Deb Jones Aug 2018
Once a man asked me back
To his home for after dinner drinks.
I was comfortable with that.
We had went to dinner several times.
I drove my car and followed him.  
We talked for about 30 minutes or so
And I excused myself and went to powder my nose, carrying my handbag.
I was out of the room about 4 minutes.
When I returned he was naked.
He had placed a metal folding chair
In the center of his well lit dining room.
I know my eyes were as big as saucers.
I remember thinking
“This escalated fast”
Doing a pantomime he held up a latex object that looked like a decanter stopper. Oversized. And upside down.
He waved his hand under it as part of his presentation.
Think of a stewardess doing the pantomime of flight safety rules,
Or QVC seller on television.
He then set the item on the metal chair and sat right down on it with an odd
squishy-sucky noise.
Up until that point
I had not moved an inch.  
I am pretty much open minded about ***.
But the whole situation and the mime-like presentation was so much ick I panicked.
I ran out the back door.
I didn’t say a word.
Just ran.
He obviously couldn’t follow me quickly because you know....
He had something up his ****.
If this topic is too much or over the top I will be perfectly ok with deleting it.
Mya Sep 2018
I am constantly
Running from myself
But I am running out of places to go
If I lose myself
I'll lose it all
Jimmy Bowman Jul 2012
All my days are empty and the pages of my
diary are all silver foil,
With nought but an inky black snake,
Carving its way through the days,
They come at me quicker each year,
But yet I still reflect upon what I’ve achieved,
And ask myself where it has all gone?

I find myself sitting in this dark room,
With only padding as my witness,
The answer soon becomes clear,
As I sit in this chair that persists on clasping me in
Its jaws,
The lights seem to dim and it floods back.

Nothing could stand in my way previous to this,
The blue shrills followed me everywhere and cried,
Cried like I did that night,
They led me here seperated only by a cross and thread.

Forgive me father.
jane taylor May 2016
running by your side
divinity colliding
sparks my soul anew

Fuji Bear Aug 2016
Foreign places
Familiar faces
I remember how it started,
But how did I get here?
Coming down
On the ground
I know what's right
Yet my decision remains unclear
I need not say,
I cannot stay,
Far much longer,
Stuck this way.
I'm wasting my youth
Running from this truth
I'm becoming numb
To what my life has become.
Or is it mine at all?
It used to be.
"There's always tomorrow"
I say in the present,
Until one day soon,
There isn't.
Stay off those drugs, kids.
Espresso manic Oct 2018
They always said the sky is the limit,
But they never said how to get there.

When the twists of life tried to keep me down,
i ran away.
When they came back for me,
i packed my bags and ran.
The bags slowed me down and yet, i couldn’t leave them behind.

During my escape i planned my journey and met more travelers.
Their bags seemed as heavy as mine, but our grips were adamant to the load.
Eventually i dared to fly.
Flying was easy. Up in the air, where gravity’s pull is weaker
made my bags lighter, and I soar higher.

Did i dare fly too high? Did i forget about the bags?
Oh mama, no one told me to be careful of flying too high.
Now i’m back to running,
running for one more breath of pure air.
Turoa Feb 10
One step forward
Followed by another
Losing sight of an end
Given time
The destination
Doesn't matter

Never have two words
Been simpler
Or meant more
Than those from someone who cares
Who's always been there
Standing, waiting
Holding a door.

..Stop running
To: You
A certain special person said this, someone inspires and always surprises me; she has been there from the start. Thank you, no words can express how much you mean to this old jack of all trades-dancing-vagabond-cowboy.
From: Me
jiminy-littly Dec 2018
Frz have you forgotten me?

I hear your voice, but its me saying do not listen

Anyway I say, how are you?
the court records a divorce, a child, and a republican,

You were once a brooklynite, a beloved chassid gal, so hollow to hide, have you moved upstate?

me? maybe inappropriately concerned

I dreamt we will meet one day.

I see you, you see me, then run away furtively,

I race head long, trying to catch you, to touch you at last.  

Mind numb, you duck in the LGBT centre.  I stop.  

Leaving you to minds damnation and hell, a palace of fears, fool for years, you lead me down some steps, through an alley,  open a gate, and smile,

stay here, you say, between two buildings.  

I sit next to the garbage cans against a wall with leafless vines, its the first snow, you never said when you'd be back.

It is now a year before I die, cars roll by noisily, far off a lone siren, someone is digging in the garbage for scraps, it seems impossible that inches away you were within my reach
Samantha Nguyen May 2018
he was running.
running away from the pain.
running away from his fears.
running away from the thoughts.
running away from his feelings.
or just running away from me.

—you know you can do it
Carter Ginter Sep 2014
An hour of terror
lost, and fighting.
Even under the eminent cerulean sky
the truth of shadows remains.
Light means nothing here,
where tumbleweeds turn to wolves,
and the slightest brush
is enough
to scare me from my skin.

Enough is enough!
In fear and no faith
I cannot face these demons again.
They say He'll save me
and tell me to find the light
but all he is, a godling,
the origin of this fight.

Sandy footsteps turn to pounding
against the hard porch steps of my nearing tomb..
Match and gas
Gas and match
and a shaky grasp.

I stop, run my fingertips over the veneer of the stair
once more.

My liquid savior kindles so quickly
Flames engulf the world
But wait,
still dark..
He's here.
PoserPersona Aug 2018
The concrete drum
beats two steps;
their sound signals
dear freedom

The cricket hum
drowns the day
and instills a
tranquil numb

The bare breeze
strums leaves and all
and breaks the heat
in welcome

The tonic sum
a blessed song;
allowing one
to triumph
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