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Ugo Jul 2013
99 cent wars, rooftops, Gibraltar Screaming "god bless the fabulous" Christs;

In the eyes of years
Man is king only over that which breathes,
So let's throw hugs in the air,
sit on flowers and vanish to Cook stones on the hips of Cleopatra
with all of December's left footed children

For through the cried ***** tears of furry German banana caskets,
Eternity awaits
In the failures of our greatest triumphs,

So let's dance

After all, Psychological Wednesday societies
Are only good for curing Xbox manifestos and Tuesday sanities

And if we died one day,
it sure won't be yesterday.
halfmoonprxnce Mar 2017
You stripped my soul,
Ripped me from my shoes
Where I stood
in innocence.
You extracted my childlike traits,
Treated my body
As your ******* paycheck.

My whole future
Was laid out in front me.
Now you fabricated a dent in it,
One that has shattered me
Forever.
I used to smile,
Be full of life,
Slept at night,
My body never reeked the incessant scent
of the lifeless souls you sold me to.

My heart ached everyday,
I longed for home, where safety was waiting for me.
Everyday I was a raindrop,
Trying to cling onto the window of hope,
But always slipped away.

You don’t understand the pain,
You’re only in it for the hunnits
Please understand,
That my dehumanization is not worthy
For what you gain.

My body became an abstract canvas,
For your ugly pleasures.
Bruised, bloodied, beaten, and battered.
Cuts and aches line my delicate skin,
But to you all my pain is fake.

You slapped my delicate face,
every time I asked for my precious prize of my childhood,
every time clear oceans surged out of my eyes.
“Shut the hell up!” You yelled
As I let out wails of agony.
You stepped all over me
Like I was a used cigarette.
You ignored my shrieking screams,
Actually,
You loved it.

You forced me
To comply with their beastly gratifications,
Only in return for your abundant riches.
You stepped on me,
like I was a *****, grimy, muddy puddle,
over and over
Even so,
I was still considered desirable.

I am NOT your canvas.
I am NOT your paycheck.
I am NOT your plaything.
I am worthy of honor,
worthy of respectful awe and delicacy.

I did not feel the worth of a human being anymore.
I felt ill treated, broken, bent, demeaned.
You stripped my soul, and,
Deprived me of my self respect.
And I will never
Ever
Be the same.

The only thought
That seeps into my mind
At sunrise and the brink of midnight,
Is that
I
Was someone’s *****.

Listen to the pleas of
Children,
their ribbons shriveling up.
Spouses,
their vows rupturing.
Siblings,
their hearts torn apart.
Parents,
Bawling for their sanities,
Waiting to rejoice
With their miraculous bundles of joy—
This poem is one that I wrote for social consciousness. Human trafficking is an issue that destroys the lives of many and degrades human beings. This poem is from the perspective of one who has been used and trafficked, hence the term "pulverization," which means to grind up something until it turns to loose fragments-- close to nothingness.
traces of being Oct 2016
The sky is falling
                       with the New Moon’s rising tide
                       Amorous emotions are flailing
                       with rhapsody’s flooding desires

A fleshy sigh exhaled
the hot breath of carnal tensions;
the heat of a lightheaded fever,
arouses flushing skin,
igniting a yearning to savor
the bouquet of love’s
sensual coquettish dreams

                       Inraptured teases and tantalizes
                       anticipation’s lucid sensations
                       So close and yet so far away ,
                       as if a moonstruck hypnotic delight
                       were at the tip of fingers touch ,
                       from arm’s length away

Savoring the input
from all the heightened senses
Overwhelmed by a feeling
like being wrapped in a dream ,
choosing not to listen
to sanities' useless reality

                       Willingly surrendering to the dream - - -
                       to the verve of blissful mercy
                       Only while waking up,
                       embracing the thoughts
                       of passionate release,
                       do I feel the poignant pang
                       of my heart's song

longing to fade into you …

                        "dance me to the end of love"


**wilder
"Dance me to the end of love" is the title and lyric of a Leonard Cohen song
Andrea Schmidt Oct 2016
Smiling, she glances in the mirror
her skirts falling gently into place.
There are her feminine riches,
simple in their daily splendor;
waving from the settling lace.

They, it doesn’t matter who,
could search the endless layers
and never truly see her;
though she hides within the bluish
fabric’s seams and tender tapers

Like legs or lips, she’ll never
part from her sweet sanities
for any sort of ‘gentleman’.
So rich she stays in clever
garbs, seen only in her vanity
A woman is so much more than what she wears... usually.
Eve Katrina Nov 2014
If you aren't stressed or depressed
They are gonna treat you less.
So shut up about how you're so *******
Blessed.
Like sorry im happy,
And my life is alright,
Am I gonna lose my fans
Cause my  brain is skewed on right?
I don't see how this could be a fair fight,
And I think- what would my idols do?
But even further they've developed mental illnesses too!
Like we're all looking to be biggest threat,
To be the most disturbed person you've
Ever met.
Cause it's poetic and dark,
And I wanna feel deep.
And this positive **** isn't gonna raise a peep.
So I gotta take a jump of faith or some kinda leap.
So I can be who you psychos what me to be!
Like it's easy,
The sadness enticing,
Will help me rhyme better,
Or flow more lyrically.
Like this is my new style.
Give me a minute to think...
Fill my silence with your laughter and childish chatter
As I make myself fall off sanities brink.
Because what really matters
When all you want is hype in twitter?
And to look thoughtful among
All your so called haters?
But your life is perfect...
And you want more,
So you you act like it's less,
So you feel indie and on media adored.
Like maybe you picked up your
Life's passion off the clearance rack in a grocery store. Lol.
But as long as you're not okay!
You know kids be acting fake trying to get some internet love
Posting pictures probably faking gay
Or posting some scars like
white girls have it so hard.
All I'm saying is that this according to this  generation
You have to be broken to get some attention.
And its kinda twisted we gotta feel down
So that we can get lifted.
M Harris Feb 2017
Newfangled Biosphere Pyramid Scheme In Dwelling To Sidetrack,
Sanities Seduced So You Never Will Retort.
Threaten the sanctity of the delusion,
Unlearn. Start altering the definitions.

Force fed more dread so you relinquish control,
Cravings we must return.
Unfetter the soul,
In a system where acceptances esteemed more than the veracity,
Flawed perception of tour progression through that which we consume.
Exposed through The Earliest Of Eons.

Resistance-Resistance is Demarcated
Subversion-Subvert the Paradigm
Stirring Within A Ecosphere
Numb And Incarcerated

Stirred On My Own
In Prehistoric Of Existences

Slumbering. Visualizing. Bleeding. Conscious.

Appreciations bolted in a collective delusion
Lulled by ease and consumption
An entire realm of souls visualizing their existences.
Mankind is not superior, we’re just folklore's in our own consciences.
Valsa George Aug 2016
Give me
new morns of splendid sunshine
and clear blue skies with soft wind
humming sweetly to the timeless rhythm

Give me
fresh air with gentle whispering of breeze
to be kissed passionately and tickled playfully

Give me
quiet days sans the bustle of hectic crowds
each promising new wonders and joyous tidings

Give me
country sides with luxuriant vegetation
and rich plantation to feel partitioned off
the soot and dirt of roaring cities
    
     **Give me

     woodlands of varied flora and fauna
so rare and rich that nowhere else are seen

Give me
gardens and brick laid pavements
where there grow such lovely blooms, nodding amorous
to flirting dandies on colorful wings

Give me
running brooks and rushing streams
upon whose fertile banks tall trees and bushes green,
in singles and files grow

Give me
orchards, beautiful and fair
with fruit laden trees, so wonderful and rare

Give me
vast fields of ripening corn and paddy
where farmers joyfully gather to harvest their year’s toil

Give me
vineyards of trellised vine
with hanging clusters of grapes, green and maroon

Give me
ponds and wells of crystalline water
to quench the thirst and turn fallows into fecund lands

Give me
woods and forest tracks
where spring lingers all the year round and beyond
where birds on tree tops merrily sit and sing
whose harmonious notes in every nook and corner ring

Oh! Give me
     Nature in all ‘its primal sanities’
And souls with nicety of hearts, free of all affectations!!
Inspired by Walt Whitman's poem Give me the Splendid, Silent Sun!
Apachi Ram Fatal Jul 2016
Practically disbelieve prophetic sustenance
Pre exist convince self sacrifice austerity
Lead solitary lonely strife unravel dysfunction
Slowly impede on sanities senses spirit bend
Empath way to escape betray forgive pain
Obey Frey free from Cain disintegrate
Holy guardianship vindicate Lord Lucifer
Emancipate misused divinity behoove
Sacred energy bitterly keep on enlightened
Sorcery face El-light what immaculate forgery
Divine Sphere of influence follow through
Underworld Godspeed enchant exuded kneads
Forbidden prayers left lay Ilahi arrest turn off Sylph
Litany Disgrace Devotion Embrace
J Christmas Dec 2012
X D The trail o slime you lay
It'd be ok If every one could just slide
where they may
but all those trails have led
to the edge o sanities fray.

Brown eyed stone witch
Of which to I Belong
A blonde haired pixie
An Angel The guiding light
                          I'm her night

To her I've been the greatest feat
Fought so hard to save me
because i bow She believes she's met defeat
but it's my ghouls that won't let her save me

once the Aborted Ones came to me and said
A tourniquit not gonna, won't stop whats bleed
                   And the greatest of my loves won't ever heal until its dead

They pointed to a painting of I and her
I painted while high & she thought I was jerking off instead
they pointed to it  above the bed on a wall I miss
That Cherub, Dear Sun Is named the Goodbye Kiss

That embrace, last sober, still innocent, true loves kiss
Dry but unfinished
One of the last before over Love \ our  Drugs took precedence
                                                      ­                       Goodbye to a wish

this tonight days before the prophecy of an awaken
A goddess, her friend, gave of an herb and word to ease my need
of the slow and of the go and to ease my heart breakin on my sleeve

to the biggest Sorcerer I went to palaver and break bread.
                                        Told him my Trixie won't talk to me
         I've been off a week and he saw my strength and said

It's been sometime since your ******* eyes weren't dead
Do you remember what I told you before we started
this new method


                                                He was told by a living dead

If we do this This is a whole new demon
So cheap and so easy
It's harder to get out of your head


But we weren't happy when life was getting good again
           We took another left and let the mumblin and madness begin

By the grace and words of her Coven
and the stern truth of good men
I have begun to name more and more
of my collected Demons

Their names rob them of their power
JEALUS was one sneak, malice did it seep
One I just named DESPOTIISMIC RELENTLUS
            The darkest of creeps is the one that held me groveling

distracting me from a Goddess given strength
All our problems it Exacerbates
with it's Overbearing shouts and whispers
She walked off the plank

I'll come around but I can't pilot this ship
            God am it may take a Lunar cycle or two.
                             Come on baby this isn't the best part of the trip


She found me to love
she needed me to save
a goddess doesnt tred water
she walks upon the wave

                                       watching for the moon to wane

As my ship goes down
I thank her for she gave me the strength to swim
It took all she had
now God I am  

baptised with the remnants
of a burning sinking ship
Treding breaking swells the wind whispers
                                For years I begged you to help me quit.

And I yell, " I will "

        "  baby, just "

"give me a"

         "little"
" bit
    .
.
    .
.
This is for my Love my Goddess my Trixie What a Dish.
I always part with a kiss (if you see this) :-*
2012copyright@JohnDChristmas
Clovina Nov 2013
You listen to her
But not to me,
No matter how much
I beg and plea.

What's so different
About her and me?
Go ahead,
And tell Me.

It'll Just be
Between us...
You see?

You Listen to Her
But not to me,
Tell me the reason
And I'll let you be.

Is it that you
Cannot Trust in me?
Due to my mind
Of Ecstasy?

Or is it a secret between you two
That I...
Cannot See

You listen to him
But not to me,
No matter how much
I beg and plea.

Is it because of
Our different Sanities?
Go ahead,
And tell Me.

It'll Just be
Between us.
You'll See.

You Listen to Him
But not to me,
Tell me the reason
And I'll let you be.

What's the Cause
That made you Lose
Your faith in me?
Was it my mind of Insanity?

Or is it a secret between you two
That I...
Cannot see.
Zizzy Feb 2011
And the worms ate into my brain,
Maybe I'm going too insane.
Falling into this abyss,
I think I’m filling with emptiness.
So I’m going today to meet the Czar
Just a fall away, up to the stars
I’m starting to feel some levitation.
You think it's all a hallucination.
But I’ve seen them, they're real.
More real then I can feel.
With everyday they grow stronger
And if I let this go on much longer,
I just might crack
I’m starting to feel like I might be attacked

But they’ve never lied.
They’ll tech me how to fly.
Because they know the way
They never leave me in dismay.
They take me to a castle with fluorescent sound,
And color echoing off the ground,
Around the corner fairies peek,
And in reality never leaks.
Until I come back to the ground.
Left with mere boring sound…
Things here are so conventional
Life needs to be more dimensional
Less intentional
More exceptional
So I’ll go to Eden and play,
Rather than sit here and decay.

Until, one day, my world went grey.
And the wind had nothing left to say.
They came in from all around
I couldn't get back down to the ground.
Then everything started to scream,
And became anything but a dream.
The world was lit with rage.
They trapped me in a cage,
And placed me by a feast of other lost sanities
Reality left only in distant memories.
The world was hungry and must be fed.
And all of me filled with dread
When I realized I was going to be devoured.
All I could feel was encroaching power.
No escape from my world of outlived bliss.
It was never supposed to be like this.
Here I was supposed to die never,
Be a queen, a god forever.
They had planned it all along,
Tricked me with they're colors and songs.
So here I lie about to die,
And all I can do is barely sigh.
As teeth bite into my brain,
Wiggle around,
And spit me back onto the ground.
With the worms inside my head,
I think I might be dead.
peachguts Dec 2020
wom·an
/ˈwo͝omən/

1. a woman’s issues of god-tier poetry cannot be treated by carving her into more aesthetic form of stanza as defined by an unconscious poet, nor can she be bent into a more intellectually acceptable shape by those who claim to be the sole bearers of poetry.  

(w) heartsick saints and sinners.
(o) a ballbuster and untarnished empress.
(m) black bouquets and red roses.
(a) bleeding screams and convivial memories.
(n) fixed and broken sanities.

2. angel's darling won't make a woman less than poetry, add and reduce nothing, hades will mixed heaven and hell for persephone and the latter will just smile while mixing your body and your coffin together.

3. warning!!!
"a woman is a dangerous poetry that can destroy your existence in any angle."

(w) 90 degrees to an inclined surface and that will make her ******* poison you.
(o) 160 degrees to a ***** surface and that will make her use your genital ***** as her pen.
(m) **** a+b raised to the power of 2 when a woman is powerful than any numbers written in math textbooks.
(a) let's set aside fuckery and solve the mystery of how queen elizabeth built an empire without a king.
(m) _____(let's leave this blank, for a woman is a mysterious poetry.)

4. a woman is a poetry, add or reduce her stanzas and she will still remain as poetry.
This isn't made to downgrade men
have a nice day, you are a poetry that's loved and appreciated
CH Gorrie Jul 2012
Now lunacy kicks its hoof,
throwing dust across my heart.
The taste of sour gin
lengthens out the smart.

All the the things I've ever
felt entitled to are gone.
I've felt deeply about too much,
I've felt it all too long.

I guess I understand now,
if to understand is to think.
Where and when and how
are still fabulous unformed things.

There isn’t much reason
to heave these dense veins
unobligated and alone.
I lay down and let the rain

cry for me instead.
On my face I can tell
it wished it was frozen,
cryogenic as it fell

so it could be solid, strong,
colder. It would never fall
again, just melt to a throng
of puddles and vanish.

I realize now nothing
I thought was mine was.
Not the spectacular waves
receding or the buzz

of beer. Not my guitar,
its rich sounds,
that shooting star
that I wished on in the desert

August of 2008.
Not my first lover
or my big brother’s hate.
Right now I discover

what was mine is here:
my veins, my skin, my eyes, my face,
my happiness and hurt:
small sanities in the rain's lace.
Emily A Grande Mar 2014
Preferred  are those conversations accompanied by cigarettes and splifs and misfits sitting where they knew they always should.

There comes a time when cleared minds realize conversations of personal problems and unified disfunction's exposed feels right. As though your ideas of crazy themes and wandering dreams are unified.

Listening to the good die young by billy Joel blasts as slow motions and hand gestures toss stories and emotions like cracking the binding of a books once judged by unpredictable covers.

I connect with people who's skin has sunken ink that tell stories people think need to stay forever by vibrating needles. Piercings on questionable parts like on noses that drip from other kinds of recreationals. that give bad impressions to those cliche stereotyped people. But if we're all the same species then how do you begin to distribute labels?

I believe there are certain people that smoke cigarettes. That need a release knowing risk that with each pack your buying death. But living larger then safe is easily the option that's best.

To fly free through roads just watching others live lives and in  split seconds build their story lines. Like that feeling of peoples first expressions when first meetings happen and the only conversations are those of eyes that frigidly glance back. When you realize everyone is there for same reason. But curiosity is the catalyst for judgement and we have all done that.

I believe there are layers to the soul. Not like designated  pieces and parts but one giant relation that we all hold. It's that common beating of trapped souls kept in that bone cage our chest mold. Each chest holds humanities most sacred vessel so how come so many people turn out damaged and evil when born starting with the same soul?

I'd like that think that our common bind is that we have the ability to breathe. And even when things get crazy and life gets messy and that ability to breathe starts to feel more like your starting to choke at least it's sign your still apart of this earth as a whole and not already six feet deep...

There's something beautiful in the fact your mind makes you who you are.. Or do you make up your mind? Are we all strung up like puppets being pulled on premeditated strings? Or are we morally free willed  where fate is created based off every individuals caged vessels desires and whatever subjective shoulders conscious ends up deciding.

It's funny to me that people have angelic and demonic whispers on opposite shoulders because I believe that they are one in the same. That in reality our conscious is one unified subjective subconscious who has free will to take a ride with the devil but if they chose to live a live of angelic routine the heart gets hurt and your heads to blame.

Because the heart wants what it does but the mind always knows what's best. But what if together they worked the same and the explanation for decisions being made, are based purely on happiness with consequential benefits determined by what's locked inside that bone cage.

When does choosing between what's right and what's easy ever stop giving beatings to the beating vessel a rest.

Because I have never seen them coincide for most instances there's always that contradicting choice. The one you know you've already chosen but if you want everyone to win you will have to personally sacrifice happinesses of the real meanings of life.

The ones that hurt the most but are so addictive they are mentally deadly to any head that's got a heart full of selfish wishes that claw to fulfilled within me.  

Regret is a funny concept because it can always be avoided, that intuition is real and if any instance of doubt or denial is present during, before, or after these ordeals,
you know your accepting the warm rush of blood make it's way home and suddenly your head turns numb and cold. And the only thing to do is uncage that spirit and let it go.

And these constant battles of war and peace have never in history coincided it seems. But what makes you the winner or the losing team? In reality it all doesn't matter in seems, because things happen and If you chose regret and if that's true happiness should anyone put there's souls intentions to rest?

Because hurting are those who believe they would  rather  let everyone else win because being themselves would ultimately hurt others.. And its conclusions like these, they say, you just cannot win. But I grew up when I realized life was really about how your pawn is played. And let's be honest,  Humans have always been the most dangerous game. And ultimately everyone wants to win in a way, but their victory prevents others from reaching their souls restless place.

So this circle of life is that of our species chosen shape. Which makes a lot of sense in minds bigger state.

And I guess that's cool because anyone could say, that we do live condensed on a circle floating in an infinite space, where its never ending and confusingly contradicting , kind of common to that comparison about humanity's constant levitation around mixed messages that mind and heart keep sending.

But in the end were all just spinning. Rotating on sanities axis and gravitationally pulled one way, because that's the way the stars aligned. And that seems quite similar to humanities battle of premeditated fate. So free wills just another excuse for regret shunned away?

But after your feet get planted back in the ground and your mind doesn't feel like it's spinning, that's when you know your true conscious is winning. And even if I there's regret as minds price to pay, let your heart benefit from not caring what decisions it's made.

And for once don't settle by locking it back away in its cage.

See ribs have have rows of entrapment like cell doors and windows but don't they say if god doesn't open up the door he will a window? I think your heart needs to only be able to see through what it can handle. And your mind only cages that soul of questioned decisions away, because it's the one that hurts in longevity and gets damaged with mental repercussions in your head that will always stay. And hearts vessels only know what they've seen through the cage. It will be bruised but like clockwork healing starts and familiar tempting feelings once again become craved.

And anxiety of memories are sent to the brain when the heart wants to start over and relies on its mind to be brave. And sometimes that deceivingly beautifully ****** devil, on your shoulder distributes desired deadly sins your mind is banned from letting it's sweet heart discover.

Which is when it knows it's time to come back down from that beautiful risky heart thumping heaven and evaluate  the damage you have done. And so now I see why hearts and minds don't get along. They desire each others abilities of their methods to stay strong...
.Emily A. Grande
gd Jun 2016
How did we shatter our innocence?

Tripping over the laces we tied together,
building homes solely out of old memories,
finding comfort in our worst pieces of skin
and calling it love at 3am
crying about insecurities and infidelities.

Darling, how can it still be called love
when the fires are burning down our sanctuaries, and our sanities?
How can it still be called love
when our foundations no longer mimic the Great Wall of China,
or stand indestructible like the concrete Pyramids of Egypt?

We are paper thin
and just as fragile
as the tiny paper houses
we used to make out of playing cards.

Our hands no longer fit
like perfect puzzle pieces -
they mimic sheets of sandpaper instead,
scratching out every ounce of sincerity
we once engraved into each other's palms.

Our footsteps fall separate octaves away,
out of sync and out of touch,
in this **** grand scheme
somehow labelled a masterpiece.

We were once flawless.
But now we've just made flaws
out of every single thing we used to fall for.
Now, we're just flawed.

gd
{my biggest fear is losing you over your fear of losing me}
Do not fear the bruises on my fingertips
I promise I will hold you gently, and,
cradle you in my arms.

Please don't worry for my temper,
I will control it all I can.
I do not want you to fear me;
I promise, I'm not that bad.

Don't fear my little problems,
I know I judge too much.
Don't let these little things
bother you, and make you go away.

Don't think about my insecurities,
or my fear to touch and to love,
don't worry about those things at all,
I'll try and push you above.

Don't be afraid of my madness,
I promise it only hurts me.
I will never let my sanities,
affect how you might be.

Please, don't fear the scratches on my wrists,
or the scars along my hips.
I wasn't built for stability,
but I'm finding that I, can be.

Don't worry about all these things,
don't fear what might just be,
Please just ignore all of my tendencies,
and just look to love me.
gd Mar 2015
My greatest love turned everything he touched to gold.
From the stars in the sky to the glimmer in his eyes,
everything seemed gilded by his fingertips.

A power so strong it could penetrate skin and
bone all the way to the cusp of my heart.
And for once in my life, death couldn't
whisper past the aurous shield
around my heart & my blood
felt replaced by fairy dust.

All it took were his lips on mine to make me feel like wildfire.
I was a burning bush of all his desires and endeavours.
And my flames consumed him
as much as it consumed me.

The warmth I managed to radiate from the effortless hum of his voice
hypnotized every nerve ending in my body and
he got so caught up in this masterpiece
that he ended up lost in my eyes
the same way I got lost in his.

Sooner or later, we were both running blind
trying to find the finish line
towards stability.

We jumped through hoops and burned down bridges,
sacrificing our sanities for the approval of each other.
Yet in the end, the finish line promised nothing
but broken promises.

Piece by piece we cut away
at the golden kingdom
we created,
cut away
at ourselves,
hoping a little karma
could win us something constant.

With no avail, we came out shattered, almost unrecognizable.
My greatest love sold his soul so I could have mine,
oblivious to the fact that I had done the same.

gd
{maybe there is such a thing as "too late"}
Ryan King Nov 2010
Must stop the thought
The thoughts I have fought
So many times before
They leave me immobilized on the floor
After the storm hits
After the mind fits
The destruction, and the holes in the wall
Reminds me of my sanities fall
Reminds me I’m going insane
Reminds me of the pain
She has brought
Must stop the thought
The thought
Of love
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
And when your days are short and your nights are long, you realize your faults and everything you've done wrong. You cower in fear at your own selfish demise, as you stare into the mirror at your bloodshot eyes. Stricken with the pain of all that you’ve lost, as you share a bed with agony regardless of cost. Regardless of all those you have left in your wake, for momentary pleasure and sanities sake. And now all that you’ve gained has become all that you’ve lost, as the lines you have draw begin to be crossed. Begin to be erased so that the world can make sense, of a society of people corralled by their fence. All different shades of shame and insecurity, with a height only determined by their childish maturity. But you scale all these fences and let yourself in, hoping for comradely or a moment of sin.  Anything to give meaning to your everlasting nights, and your constant stream of tears that you continue to fight. Night after night and day after day, insanity taking control in the worst possible way. Losing your grip on realities small weak hand, darkness taking over the lonely place you stand. All has been lost in this uncertain world, as you embrace the cold porcelain where you had just hurled. Another night of regret to make up for the pain, that never seems to end as its pumped through your worthless veins. Time to sleep away the day in the hopes of worthwhile dream, that can take me away from reality and a world that makes me scream.
betterdays Apr 2014
i know.....
infatuation and obsession
are... somewhat.... compulsive
in need ...and sometimes  
misunderstood
but...
it is writing me inside out
this desire to.......  speak in
ink laden syllables.....
to scribe and etch my self
on the synaspes of your brain
so that i am ever painted... in the background of your pictures
so that my words become... your
idiom and phrases
so that i appear black... and white .. in film noir or slapstick comedy
is this wrong....
is this creepy...
this need to be in your blood..
in every drawn breath..
i am not unhinged or crazy
there are other things......
but you come to me.. at unbidden times and wrest me.....
into this  sojourn
on sanities thin, thin cusp
walking.... the wire of......
ratiocination... one side... ...sapience...
...the other stupidity.....
you are not aware
of me... and you...
should not be
for i am no one......
only a thought upon
a poets page harmless....
and imagined
oh! but to be free to live
life on knife's.....
sharp and cutting edge.....
merely a writing exercise....
Robin Goodfellow Dec 2016
Golden wings flutter lightly across the back of my hand, relaying to me traces of dreams only their feeble minds could capture. Soft, flickering melodies descend through their grey, wintry-like gazes, as their quiet thoughts echo through their silent, fragile words. Endless emotions reverberate from the walls of their minds, as I gaze at their rapid movement, endeavoring to weave their tales together. Still, reality and fantasy keep swimming aimlessly across my brain until finally, finally, I stroke the blank page with my pen.
  One by one, those butterflies stop, as they scrutinize the wondrous obsession which led to my desire, my passion. They watch as my fingers drum impatiently against the page, somehow sensing the troubled confines of my imagination. It wasn’t long before they stop floating by. Instead, they begin to watch me, with those intelligent, naive eyes of theirs. Whether it be from confusion or amusement, I couldn’t tell.
  Still, even with my now small audience gathering near, I am left only with a memory of what once was my own. I could only pick up my pen, and write down their movements, their thoughts and emotions, the curiosities and sanities that possessed them to be near me. I wrote down the beauty of their strong, fragile wings, all the while keeping their quiet sonnets to myself. I read and reread, write and rewrite, until there was nothing left of the forgotten, neglected space I once dreamt of.
  And so, I could only gaze back at the butterflies from my own madness, all the while looking back at the page I filled with my own words. Black words, golden words, words that carried both blessings and curses, words that tore my heart asunder, while keeping my sanity whole. Then, in that same breath, I shoo my butterflies away.
  I begin my story.
Because characters are people too, and they can be so very annoying.
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
I have this melody in mind that has played since my youngest days. Filling my heart and soul continuously, getting louder as it plays. Taking over my every dream and rocking me to sleep, unable to scream out in the night or even begin to weep. Waking to a new day with the same hope in mind, that my lifes strung out melody will somehow come unwind. And untill that sobering day comes ill playfully sing a different tune. Playing my melody with the worlds expectations untill they both become attune. Never humming my lifes true melody so as not to attract my muffled past. And hoping to god that this lifestye is one i will outlast. Or outlive, or out-will, or possible out-muster. For my struggling sanities sake, and before life loses all its luster. Becasue as my melody continues to play, everything becomes drowned out. Leaving behind a deaf man whos life was filled with hopeless regret and unwiltering doubt. But carry on i must do, for life demands nothing less. Regardless if your staggering smile continues to digress. Back to your haunting melody, and leaving you at second best. To the person you strived to be, who has now become an absolute mess. Holding back their emotion, from the world and those he loves. Seaching for the answers in the stars and endless skys above. Becasue the answers he seeks cant be found while walking on this earth. Buth rather in that unattainable heaven that has given his life worth. So play on my meldoy and sing me to sleep. I look forward to the silence as darkness plummets me ever so deep.
Susan Jacob Jan 2017
Dancing with you in the moonlight
is like being in the limelight
of my dreams and fantasies,
those preserved sanities.

You don't know the darkness
of the girl who's closeness
increases rhythmically with each rhythm,
dragging herself into your loveliness.

The apathy for love,
deep inside doesn't protest your love;
dancing with you in this mellow night,
my mind sways itself to love a lost love.

I can't trace the fossils of the rotting
love of my past love,maybe I'm tracing
the pieces of my lost love
with our illuminating warm craving
to see each other smiling,
at the beautiful warm sea of love.

The lovely sea  extends
it self before us as if our instincts
to enlarge ourselves
further extends the extensions.

As you pull my heart deeper
more closer, so as to get a feeler
of what's going on in my depths.
I can guess everything without plunging deeper.

Your fingertips trace marks
in each trailing step that marks
a new step to everything,
steps,which are the remarks
of our remarkable memory marks.
She teases me with please and sees the ease with which she kneads her seeds of plain jane ideas that inflame maimed ideals in the mind she unkindly winds to blind the mimes and hide the chimes behind my cruel foolish heart that she has ruled and ghouled apart with vanities and sanities sweet depravity that eats into the cavity in every meat memory that follows me until I am spilled and thrilled with the **** in the mirror, the bottomless fear that I see so clear is in time and climbs up my spine, but it doesn't rhyme.

Though she slay me
Yet will I love her
Arcassin B Sep 2015
By Arcassin Burnham

I forbid you not to say a thing,
Because every piece of your character
Comes right out,
Not showing affection to you would be a crime,
In my dispute,
Although we have several,
But if I get drunk,
And if you get drunk
With our halos over our heads,
We will live in great peril,
And when you cry,
I don't know what to do at times,
I just thought maybe if you'd soon realize,
That some people need forgiving,
Even for their Sanities,
And themselves,
To keep on living,
Don't say a thing,
Cause your silence is ever so divine,
I could make a poem with it,
Take it a step further,
And share all your dark secrets,
More like your nectar,
I need it more than the bees do,
To get my creative juices flowing,
Just enough to please you.
Don't cry
Riot Jun 2014
i never cried like this before
my heart slamming against against my sanities door
no more
you
i cried so hard
my eyes were sore
when i thought you left
and slammed the door

my tears were on the floor
while i was trying to get god to help
send a messege through his doors
the only thing i said was
"God please help her"

when i thought you were gone
i wrote a song
saying exacly what was going on

though i didn't know the full story
i still thought i could help

but then you came back

this is my first time
witnessing a miracal
James M Vines Apr 2016
Stop tempting me, leave me alone. I can live without you, I am fine on my own. I will work through the pain somehow, just let me be, at least for now. I don't need you anymore, I said I have had enough. Our relationship may seem like a good one, but you take too much. You are to demanding of me, some people say you will take my life. I have to stop wanting you, if for my own sanities sake. I am not sure if I really can live without you, but I guess I have to try. So please addiction let me go, I will find another way to get by.
Haddie Brenner Oct 2017
Dusty, rusty limbs.
Creaking, whizzing seams.
Mucky, murky mind.
And I'm inside.
Trapped,
Wrapped,
Strapped.
No way in.
No way out.
Whizzing and creaking in my ears.
Dust and rust in my lungs.
Muck and murk in my blood.
And I am inside,
Confined,
Incarcerated,
compassed.
Nowhere to go,
No one to come.
Detached.
Marking the days on the walls,
Line after line after line.
Counting my thought,
Concluding my dreams,
My marbles displacing,
One by one by one.
Misplacing my sanities,
Losing my mind.
Patrick Kennon Sep 2019
Tired heart overflowing, brim of pitcher bubbling, red and frothing
I sing out into the night, dark coats of gray and black, screeching white fluorescence taunting
The wrong thing to bottle up, nitroglycerin in your cup, slapped down
You wake up with a frown, chase those pills straight down with sink water
Chemical dependance for sanities sake, my life is a case opportunities not taken
Things falling through my fingers, who else to blame
Make the insiscion, remove my heart, my name, parts of my brain
A crane in shallow water, hunting for trapped fish, it gets drier every day, nowhere to hide from this
Jason Trinh Jun 2020
Vintage vanity
...
Virtuoso of disguise
...
Beautifully broken
...
Glass-made compromise
...
Petal picking sanities
...
Episodic merchandise
...
Fantastic false reality
...
My sweet sweet paradise
Kyle Edward wood Jan 2020
As we illuminate the world we have to stand together
The enemy waits for its prey to be devoured
For my sanities sake I choose not to play the coward
Even though my brain was hijacked
Programmed to be some kind of spy that
Would carry out one of there attacks
But I saw it from the start
I was chosen to be apart of this
Anonymously orchestrated problem that’s probably
Interceding
with my new found philosophy.
Just believe me when I say
The enemy you see is not me
When I breached the border of the impossible
The day I left the hospital
My life’s been a military obstacle
A foreign anomaly
everything but logical
Now I gots to go
find the unstoppable Force
to save my lost soul
From the hell way down below
I speak to the illuminated
Of The collective consciousness
Don’t let the truth go unnoticed
What’s happened is an omen
The artificial intelligence
is fully controlling
Orchestrating the traumatization
To any threat to there corporations
Using black ops mind control operations
Training agents in expert manipulation
The gaslighting of the innocent to instigate investigations
Enacting community persecution to ensure institutionalization
They are the cause and the cure of the virus that plagues or soul
Like a parasite it grows in the minds of the young and old
Meant to cause a distraction from the alien invasion
Grown from within the mind fractures to a split
Bombard indoctrination
from a script
Freewill overridden
there words restrict my oxygen

— The End —