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Brandi Clark Dec 2014
I hear a voice
Screaching noise
Is it in or outside my head?
Is it mad?
Is it sad?
Is it my brain
Or my heart that's dead?

Well ill cut it out
Slice it up
Take it out to the back
To the streets
To the thugs
Pass it off as ****.

Can you feel me?
Can you hear me now?

Ill shine my shoes
and get my coat
They'll never know
Ill be on top
Be a rock
Be the star of the show.

Am I experiencing reality yet?

Well this is what
Staying up til 5 am does
Ive got an itch that I cant scratch
Im covered in membrane and dust.

Sharpin my knife
Dont think twice
Ill disect the top layer
Take out the bad
Leave the good
But then there is
Nothing there
At all.

Try to put
It back in
But it doesn't fit
So ill serve it on a hot plate
Let you take it all in.

How's it taste?
Whats it like?
Don't ask the price.
Is it hot?
Does it burn?
Does it stick to your tounge?
You can't afford it anyway.
You cant afford it anyway.
You ask me if having a baby in this world is selfish.

I imagine two stout bodied genderless dwarves.
with beards.
hand pumping a minecart down
subway tracks in Boston.

Hear the rattling
cart wheels along iron tracks.
the crackling fire of a lit torch
Illuminating an obvious macguffin
a glimmering maguyvery boulder
in the side of the tunnel.

This vision is a testament to how well I pay attention
When I have tunnel vision.

One pulled lever slows the minecart to a screaching stop
the dwarves zelda bomb their way inside

There is a man behind it
the size of a mountain
hooked up to a bypap machine
umbilical corded to a television

he does not know whether he is nocturnal,
trusts his wristwatch to tell time
Which was over $5,000 dollars.
trusts this watch
about as far
as he can throw his money away.
So He collects watches.

I ask you.
Does this man sound alive?

Do you think he more closely
resembles a metaphor
For children zombied into media leashes.
another pet to pitch in the graveyard
of working class
blades of grass leaning on the T
nodding off to sleep?

Or is he more like us.
escapists
wandering eyes
With roots in our mattresses
Shackled in the entertainment
Always breathing
inflating never creating.
or breathing out.

Would a child help us out?
would that be selfish?

breath can we still
tubes of oxygen up our noses.
can we rip out the catheder
save with will power
would a child somehow spin
eugenic honey
royal bee propaganda jelly
Would we see the world without sepia
no more screen filters
less headaches
less screen time
advil addiction.
Two less pills taken
comitted to attention.
stuck in tunnel vision
smoke and mirrors
are so shiny after blue pills

This mountain of a man
said to ask the man on the mountain
and I was so deep in my grave
I decided to dig down thinking
If This is hell I must be at the earths
molten core, so the road up
is just as long as the road
in any direction so long as i went straight.
But I change directions all the time.
And I still haven't hit the surface
And I keep building boulders
to keep out the cave rats
and making them obvious,
glimmerig macguffins so adventurers
will zelda bomb them open
and find me sitting here
watching the world go by
losing track of time
But always checking the clock on my wrist.
Because it's so beautiful
and biological.
The ticking is so loud
I'm deafened to the humming
of my oxygen machine.
the television,
screaching minecart breaks
My front door being blown open.
By zelda bombs

I'm stagnant with nothing but
my dreams and a metranome
Counting down to the day
I hate this television enough
To turn it off

Trust this clock enough to turn it back.

For a breif moment hear the
screaching subway tracks
The whirring of my bipap,
The bombs going off
not just at my front door
but all over the world.
blowing open my eyes to see finally

that life isn't worth a bomb shelter.
If I can't be selfish,

**** repopulting the earth.
I am going to paint drooping clocks
eat non-parishables ironically
and Die an honest man.
gears turning

grinding

screaching

creating

a mechanical me



ingredients fold into a mixing bowl

a pinch

a dash

concocting a potion

poisonous to exposure



this liquidates in the basin of my mind

mixing with machinary

creating a technical malfunction



I will forget what I forgot to remember

I will try to explain

how I can't explain

why the static in my brain

has a constant refrain



but

all of this is hidden

under layers of flesh

disguising the deformity

under my skin.
Ben Jones May 2014
The Knackers-Yard nursing home, rotted and bleak
Where the occupants dribble and seldomly speak
And the medicine is strong while the coffee too weak
Where there's never a care a fuss
There's a trip to the bingo on regular days
And they visit the beaches, the rivers and bays
For the brick-a-brack stalls and the knitting displays
In a rusty mobility bus

Prunella, the wagon of elderly types
With a blanket for every lap
She's a trusty machine of a hideous green
And she's Queen of the Watford Gap

One morning in May when the weather was grim
Miss Margaret Maywither went on a whim
To converse with the orderly, Terrible Tim
And they sat there and shot at the breeze
They nattered and gabbed a selection paces
And tried to put names to familiar faces
But Maggie with plans to discover new places
Relieved the young man of his keys

Prunella, the stolen mobility bus
Where the wings of bingo flap
With a window down and a dressing gown
She's Queen of the Watford Gap

She took to the road with a skeleton crew
Some heart-attack red or a worrying blue
And frequently stopping when tablets were due
They made for a hasty escape
With a foot to the floor and a screaching of tyres
A stopping of traffic and starting of fires
Such fun can be had when a lady retires
In a bus held together with tape

Prunella, the choice of the senior crowd
Each wrinkled lass or chap
There's a lift for the crips and titanium hips
And she's Queen of the Watford Gap

The police gave a chase at a sensible speed
As the Prunella and Margaret rapidly flee'd
When escape is impossible, each one agreed
They would rather be dead than be caught
With a tug of the wheel and a rattle of teeth
With a serpent of tyre smoke writhing beneath
It was probably too late to order a wreath
And the chance of survival was nought

Prunella, on fire and twisted apart
A smouldering pile of scrap
With the wreckage and grease of a dozen police
She's Queen of the Watford Gap
AJ Enemie Mar 2012
Screaching
This is not a love song
This is not a love song
This is not a love song
Aimless rants
Don't you know
Wiseless Johnny
******* man
Just how you inspire me
This is not a love song
This is not a love-songong
Ode to John Lyndon "Johnny Rotten", singer of The *** Pistols and Public Image LTD.
Nil P Sep 2010
How the wild flickering shadows are dancing a cold orange dance on my wall.
Lights are off, that way I can see better with my eyes closed.

I can smell the cold. I inhale it and welcome it into my body.
A hollow heart filled with love, it is flowing over and it eats my soul.

Whispering..NO screaming with my mouth shut tight.
Desire of burning it away, resisting harmful fire.

Do not stick your hand into the flame. Do not stick your hand into my burning heart.
For it will tear it apart, until there is nothing left.

All paint scratched away, screaching sounds of metal and ringing bells.
Can you hear the wind? It blows fierce upon these plains.

Those old stones, forgotten loves and missed chances.
A graveyard of dreams filled with wooden crosses for those unanswered cries.
Those old stones, forgotten loves and missed chances.
A graveyard of dreams filled with wooden crosses for those unanswered cries.
Poet-Whisperer Jan 2015
Its been a while since I last fell in love
And god what a ride i must say that it was
From a rain into a storm, my heart ran amuck
Howling at the moon completely lovestruck
At first it was just hearty and so I thought it would fade away
But soon after Icame to realize that this aint no other dame
She was tiny and adorable, simple and just
Quite different from the rest I should say as a must
She was simple and around almost everyday with me
So how much I ever tried I couldn’t just forget about thee
A love like any other? Foolish I say
This might just be the one who may forever stay

Her eyes endearing in every possible way
Her voice so chirpy I could listen to her speak all day
And although this may sound simple and plain cliché
Im going in for this with the will to make sure she stays

She’s never dated before apparently is what I’ve been told
But many have tried and fallen out without goal
And me? What of me? Im simple as a stick
My heart can’t bare the fact of her reject
Still though I go on and take a few steps up ahead
I talk and get closer to her as days went by
I act like a fool cracking jokes silly as hell
Yet she laughed out loud whole-heartedly so to tell

And oh her laugh was one of a kind
So amazing that I burnt its very image deep into my head
Time went by the same old way
And soon we became inseparable and pretty close in a way
I didn’t want to **** it by asking her out
Im anyways a fool whats that great in a guy like me anyhow?
God im such a fool I dont even know why i tried
Now I’m just gonna be left broken hearted
And maybe go home and cry
But, you see, I forgot I was a fool
One so simple minded too
I walked up to her like any other day
And we began our usual routine woohoo
We talked about kittens and other adorably foolish things
When all of a sudden…
I take a deep breath and slap my cheeks
Ugh what am I doing? I look confused at her
But she’s as normal as ever and just laughed it off without a clue

Then out of nowhere god forgive me it was simply out of the blue
It slipped out at the tip of my tongue
“Would you go out with me this friday for maybe a dinner for two?”
It took me a whole ten seconds to realize what I had gotten into
I was embarrassed and in shock
Completely undone

I broke it, I killed it, I ruined it all
I yell in my head as the picture kept playing in a record
Like god, I do have my weaknesses and I do have my strengths
But this is not something that was meant to go like this

I look up at her and was maybe about to cry
When I see the end of her lips raised up to the ends of her sides
She was smilling like a fool, with a heart so content
Her innocence showing through the blush all over her neck
And I swear to god i thought she was about to run away
When all of a sudden she let out a sweet, soft, screaching “yes”

I was so pleased I nearly lost both my legs
Infact I actually fell down out of the happiness and my foolish attempt
My hearts strings tightened and I think a few tore
Cuz well… I didnt expect it to work at all
But well it doesnt matter because she said YES
And now we’re going out and well.. yea? Thats it I guess
Brandi Clark May 2021
I hear a voice
Screaching noise
Is it in or outside my head?
Is it mad?
Is it sad?
Is it my brain
Or my heart that's dead?

Well ill cut it out
Slice it up
Take it out to the back
To the streets
To the thugs
Pass it off as ****.

Can you feel me?
Can you hear me now?

Ill shine my shoes
and get my coat
They'll never know
Ill be on top
Be a rock
Be the star of the show.

Am I experiencing reality yet?

Well this is what
Staying up til 5 am does
Ive got an itch that I cant scratch
Im covered in membrane and dust.

Sharpin my knife
Dont think twice
Ill disect the top layer
Take out the bad
Leave the good
But then there is
Nothing there
At all.

Try to put
It back in
But it doesn't fit
So ill serve it on a hot plate
Let you take it all in.

How's it taste?
Whats it like?
Don't ask the price.
Is it hot?
Does it burn?
Does it stick to your tounge?
You can't afford it anyway.
You cant afford it anyway.
12/5/2014
BodyAlone


I am a little restless with the sound of a child screaming
It's hard to keep breathing
I try to shut my ears to it
That tiny thing screaching
Walk away real fast
To stop the intensified feelings
Of that baby wailing

It's easier to stay away
All alone in my home
When it's her first birthday
I'd rather stay at home

I could never hold your daughter
With those tiny little hands
Watch her pursed rose bud lips
These things I couldn't stand
The smell of warm milky breath
The suckling noise they make
This tiny person all brand new
These things I couldn't take
I could never change a *****
Or pat her back to burp
With her little eyes all glazed
It just wouldn't work

Please don't think me selfish
As you can never see
Or feel the hurt of the childless
Your never feel as me
My insides are empty
From hope throughout the years
That never amounted to nothing
I spend some days in tears
That inside I'm broken
My heart it cracked in two
For the wanting of a baby maybe even two

When she grows up and gets married
Has a baby of her own
Then your be a granny
But I'll still be alone
Gigi Tiji Sep 2015
there's nothing left on the table
there's nothing left in the garden
there's nothing left for me to tell you
and there's nothing left for me to lose

but there's nothing right
and there's nothing wrong

you've given me lots of words yeah
you've told me quite a story
you've given me quite a few
and yeah I'm really really sorry

but I can't seem to stay angry
no I can't seem to stay mad
you know you're downright sideways
and I'm neither happy nor am I sad.

words really like to run their mouths

find the leather bound book
by my sorry little bed and
you'll find it's filled to the brim
with thoughts from my head and
they're not the best thoughts
and they're not the very worst but
I'll never have them last and
I can't say I've had them first

but I guess I guess
they're thoughts nonetheless
whether or not they're
tidy or a mess

oh little sun little sun
won't cha give me some light
I'm looking for happiness
or at least a good fight

show me something old and
then show me something new
and I'll tell you that it's all the same
for me and for you because well
everyone is everyone and
we've all got our own paths and
they make a little ant colony
they make a nice hammock

you can sit within its net of strings
and swing away in the summer winds

but you can also take a sharp little knife
and cut a knot in its complicated web and
you'll see where that gets you
whether you like it or not

broken down train of thoughts
screaching to an end and
in the end I can't find anything
better than a friend

for there's nothing at all like being alone
but it's pretty nice when you can do that with someone else
Kim Essary Feb 2019
Shhhhhh Listen closely as you can hear the sound of silence screaming through the air.
Why must it sound haunted and be filled with pain , and not the muse of laughter singing silently in the rain .
The sound of silence rings like a bell , one of screaching one of yell.
It doesn't twinkle oh so bright , tis the sound of silence we fear at night.
Not the sounds we may hear nor the sights we can see,
Not even the brushing limbs up in the tree
Just the sound of silence screaming loud and clear   this sound brings lonely silence oh so near.
Lonely can be your best friend as well as your worst enemy don't let the sound of silence consume you.
Kole J McNeil Apr 2022
Unlike you I can't sit still
Unlike you I cant focus
Unlike you every sound pounds my brain
like a hammering fist till my vision is blurry
like a dog whistle screaching at pitches you could never hear
rattling my brain
Unlike you I can't understand jokes
Unlike you I can't do things that are of no intrest
Unlike you I cant stand the feeling of the shirt on my back
like snadpaper scrating my skin wraw
like a snake squeezing the air out of my lungs untill I can no longer breath
Breaking my ribs
hehehe
Elisha Cruz Feb 2017
My body is MY body
But I don't feel it is.
Because they have thought my body was theirs to criticize.
Because she had thought my body was safe in the fire, while my body burned
for
eighteen
years.
Because he told my body that my body is his to abuse.

I believed them.
And her.
And him.

Dabbing cover up on my face to cover up the pain from him.
Hearing her words,
you are fine.
Smear it in.
They can't see me cry.

I release the pain when nighttime comes.
When darkness and my body turn into one.
"Someone needs to teach your body a lesson"
are the words that keep screaching,
like the sound of innocent prey being feasted upon.

My body is convinced that he was right.
So I seek out ways to end my life.

Victimized,
but my body survived.
When will my body know that it is mine?
Mine to honor, protect, and love.
I've been in the fire,
I've burned for too long.
I keep touching the fire.
I can't stop.
Because,
the fresh burns will always be less painful than the lasting scars.
Jeffrey Robin Jul 2016
.
By a guy who is

Simultaneously getting

**** - ******

does she get credit for *******

2 guys at once ?


••

This is one of the questions

SCREAMING IN THE SILENCE !!!

We fail ( alas ) to address

;:;

According to our EXPERTS

poetry is the INK of pain

Or perhaps they mean

The OINK of pain


//

The expert is your pal

He won't tell you how to stop suffering

But his smarmy words will tell you to go on and on !

and suffer in vain !

OH THANK YOU MR EXPERT !

oh ,,, and you are

Watching out for us


THANK YOU DADDY POET !

SCREACHING FROM THE MAD HOUSE

WHERE YOUR FANS     TRY TO SURVIVE


THE ******* OF YOUR LIES

)(

She rclaimed her dignity

She threw away her PAPER

and spilled her INK in the gutter

)(


You can tell she is a poet

Because in her arms

She is carrying a child



X
At
Donall Dempsey Mar 2021
OH TWICE UPON A TIME...A SHORT SHORT TIME AGO!

Oh we ran & we ran &
hid ourselves in the barn

you with your beautiful
black river of hair

that freely flowed
down the course of your back

but now streamed out
behind you in the air

like a great banner
of fear.


We hid
amongst sacks of seed-oats and tears.

“It’s not fair...it’s not fair! ”

your crying trickled
over dirt-smeared cheeks

hiding ourselves
deeper amongst the whinnies & dreams

of our plough horse Dolly
a colossus this near us

half afraid of being
trampled by her innocence

lost in the animal
smell of her.

Aunt Nellie
jealous

of the tumbling torrent
of your hair

its cascade
of curls

telling us she would fetch
(like a spell)  
the police & tell

(“*****....witch! ”)  
we counter-spelled

them to hold you down
as she sheared off


(the cackle of her laughter
setting fire to the air)  

the crash of waves
over your shoulder.

I clutched your arm
and ran

blind tears
both of us

into the wind’s
comforting arms

vowing no one
would ever touch

the magic
of its flowing.

Her words
screaching after us

her voice
a hawk of the air

us two
scurrying little mice

frighten by the shadow
of her calling

devouring our names
in their saying.

Her evil
made all the more real

by the chance
courtesy call

of the local police
the deadly gleams of shiny size elevenzies

we watching
in mortal terror

through stable chinks
trapped in a cage of sunlight spears

from our jail
of tears

as if we were
about to be

burned at the stake.

The flames
of our fear

already licking us
with its horror.

Us Hansel & Gretel’d
as any fairy tale

terrified amongst
the bric-a-brac

of horse
& plough

lost amongst harrow...coulter...& straddle
double-tree...check-reins...& mandril

sneaking into bed
only when the sun set


Aldebaran

the eye of the bull
in the constellation Taurus

smiling down
on us

and the innocence
of our ignorance.
Delton Peele Oct 2020
Hot pink .........swollen
No con...sole...ation prize  
Slow to focus
Eye liner max factor recall
Cherry red vermillion

Aquifers linked starting from stunning vistas
atop  glacier laden pain peaks
Over heating..... melting
Epoch jarring sounds
From the darkest deepest unreachs
CREAKING.....
fissures releasing stress
Mind tearing
HIISSSSSSSZZZZZZZZTERING
moaning
CRACKING .SCREACHING .. .WAKING THE DEAD... WAILING
THE CATHEDERALS OF WOE.
from the never regions
Echos ricocheting
Off walls outside our concieving
frequencies so low its physically sickening ...upsetting equanimity ..you actually feel and
See them as each wave rolls through ......
Reality slows to a crawl frustration turbidity everything opposing you
Nothing goes right
Slowly getting better till half the way through and its
Allright and then you rest find piece everythings more than right
Nice now i can handle this
Close youre eyes in bliss
Ahhhhhhhh quietness .
7nth day coming to a close .
Kiss happiness goodby
While you sleep chaos wrestless like a pervert creepin in you window.before you wake
Next wave sets in
Inducing a mantra  of
mountainous emotional
Upheavals. .....each one increasing ..by one  hertz.....if the damm
CCCRRRAAAKKKGUHSHHHHH
The mega ice dam fractures and the mountains erupt.
Massive utterly. ...........jaw dropping.then running
Ohhhhh. No. Whats that soouuuuCRAP I GOTTA GO TO THE
HEY OMY LANTA HEY I GOTTA GO HURRY. OK THANK YOU ....
BAAAAAAAAAAABE.   WAKE UP THE KIDS ARE MISS THE BUSS.......WAHHHHHHHH

AH WAAAAAA
Wait what ....todays a holiday .awe great. I mean yeah!!!.
I know i got the baby
Thats just great oh ggoody
Who wants pancakes..
Cassius quit pickin on Deon .
Deon HAY !!! I saw that...knock that crap off ....oh no shhhh
Here comes mom hide me!!!
Hes in the closet
.........
..thanks guys
A week in love and strife
Struggling anxiety depression
A small lesson while we try focusing on the highs
Seems like so far out of reach
From the valleys below.....
We miss all the beauty in life .
Living i a state of meritocracy
May seem mundane.  
But its where youre safety zone is.
Its not so hard to get high
And its not too too painfull fall
A little easier to stand back up.  
And an arena you can appreciate love
An love sweet love is what its all
Em Mar 2021
Now
Oh how far the great have fallen
Tumbling and turning in the air
Crashing, crashing
Falling, falling
Soundless breath choking their words
And squeezing out their lies

Oh how silently the fallen have risen
A step at a time
The wraiths of the earth
Looking, looking
Feeling, feeling
They drag their ball and chain
Nails on boards screaching
Reaching for a taste of sun

Oh how the innocent stand
Sword at hand
The smell of doubt
Flavourful and sweet
Behind their masks and bitter sweat

The children enter
Into the halls of glamour
Past silver busts
And rotting stone
They fear, oh they fear
They know

Tongues of flame
Lips of death
Eyes of fools
Hands of the doomed

They crawl, oh they crawl
And the innocent bear the burden
As the great fall and the fallen rise
As the past catches up and the future slows down
And those at the middle

Wait

— The End —