Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Prohemium.

But al to litel, weylaway the whyle,
Lasteth swich Ioye, y-thonked be Fortune!
That semeth trewest, whan she wol bygyle,
And can to foles so hir song entune,
That she hem hent and blent, traytour comune;  
And whan a wight is from hir wheel y-throwe,
Than laugheth she, and maketh him the mowe.

From Troilus she gan hir brighte face
Awey to wrythe, and took of him non hede,
But caste him clene out of his lady grace,  
And on hir wheel she sette up Diomede;
For which right now myn herte ginneth blede,
And now my penne, allas! With which I wryte,
Quaketh for drede of that I moot endyte.

For how Criseyde Troilus forsook,  
Or at the leste, how that she was unkinde,
Mot hennes-forth ben matere of my book,
As wryten folk through which it is in minde.
Allas! That they sholde ever cause finde
To speke hir harm; and if they on hir lye,  
Y-wis, hem-self sholde han the vilanye.

O ye Herines, Nightes doughtren three,
That endelees compleynen ever in pyne,
Megera, Alete, and eek Thesiphone;
Thou cruel Mars eek, fader to Quiryne,  
This ilke ferthe book me helpeth fyne,
So that the los of lyf and love y-fere
Of Troilus be fully shewed here.

Explicit prohemium.

Incipit Quartus Liber.

Ligginge in ost, as I have seyd er this,
The Grekes stronge, aboute Troye toun,  
Bifel that, whan that Phebus shyning is
Up-on the brest of Hercules Lyoun,
That Ector, with ful many a bold baroun,
Caste on a day with Grekes for to fighte,
As he was wont to greve hem what he mighte.  

Not I how longe or short it was bitwene
This purpos and that day they fighte mente;
But on a day wel armed, bright and shene,
Ector, and many a worthy wight out wente,
With spere in hond and bigge bowes bente;  
And in the herd, with-oute lenger lette,
Hir fomen in the feld anoon hem mette.

The longe day, with speres sharpe y-grounde,
With arwes, dartes, swerdes, maces felle,
They fighte and bringen hors and man to grounde,  
And with hir axes out the braynes quelle.
But in the laste shour, sooth for to telle,
The folk of Troye hem-selven so misledden,
That with the worse at night homward they fledden.

At whiche day was taken Antenor,  
Maugre Polydamas or Monesteo,
Santippe, Sarpedon, Polynestor,
Polyte, or eek the Troian daun Ripheo,
And othere lasse folk, as Phebuseo.
So that, for harm, that day the folk of Troye  
Dredden to lese a greet part of hir Ioye.

Of Pryamus was yeve, at Greek requeste,
A tyme of trewe, and tho they gonnen trete,
Hir prisoneres to chaungen, moste and leste,
And for the surplus yeven sommes grete.  
This thing anoon was couth in every strete,
Bothe in thassege, in toune, and every-where,
And with the firste it cam to Calkas ere.

Whan Calkas knew this tretis sholde holde,
In consistorie, among the Grekes, sone  
He gan in thringe forth, with lordes olde,
And sette him there-as he was wont to done;
And with a chaunged face hem bad a bone,
For love of god, to don that reverence,
To stinte noyse, and yeve him audience.  

Thanne seyde he thus, 'Lo! Lordes myne, I was
Troian, as it is knowen out of drede;
And, if that yow remembre, I am Calkas,
That alderfirst yaf comfort to your nede,
And tolde wel how that ye sholden spede.  
For dredelees, thorugh yow, shal, in a stounde,
Ben Troye y-brend, and beten doun to grounde.

'And in what forme, or in what maner wyse
This town to shende, and al your lust to acheve,
Ye han er this wel herd it me devyse;  
This knowe ye, my lordes, as I leve.
And for the Grekes weren me so leve,
I com my-self in my propre persone,
To teche in this how yow was best to done;

'Havinge un-to my tresour ne my rente  
Right no resport, to respect of your ese.
Thus al my good I loste and to yow wente,
Wening in this you, lordes, for to plese.
But al that los ne doth me no disese.
I vouche-sauf, as wisly have I Ioye,  
For you to lese al that I have in Troye,

'Save of a doughter, that I lafte, allas!
Slepinge at hoom, whanne out of Troye I sterte.
O sterne, O cruel fader that I was!
How mighte I have in that so hard an herte?  
Allas! I ne hadde y-brought hir in hir sherte!
For sorwe of which I wol not live to morwe,
But-if ye lordes rewe up-on my sorwe.

'For, by that cause I say no tyme er now
Hir to delivere, I holden have my pees;  
But now or never, if that it lyke yow,
I may hir have right sone, doutelees.
O help and grace! Amonges al this prees,
Rewe on this olde caitif in destresse,
Sin I through yow have al this hevinesse!  

'Ye have now caught and fetered in prisoun
Troians y-nowe; and if your willes be,
My child with oon may have redempcioun.
Now for the love of god and of bountee,
Oon of so fele, allas! So yeve him me.  
What nede were it this preyere for to werne,
Sin ye shul bothe han folk and toun as yerne?

'On peril of my lyf, I shal nat lye,
Appollo hath me told it feithfully;
I have eek founde it be astronomye,  
By sort, and by augurie eek trewely,
And dar wel seye, the tyme is faste by,
That fyr and flaumbe on al the toun shal sprede;
And thus shal Troye turne to asshen dede.

'For certeyn, Phebus and Neptunus bothe,  
That makeden the walles of the toun,
Ben with the folk of Troye alwey so wrothe,
That thei wol bringe it to confusioun,
Right in despyt of king Lameadoun.
By-cause he nolde payen hem hir hyre,  
The toun of Troye shal ben set on-fyre.'

Telling his tale alwey, this olde greye,
Humble in speche, and in his lokinge eke,
The salte teres from his eyen tweye
Ful faste ronnen doun by eyther cheke.  
So longe he gan of socour hem by-seke
That, for to hele him of his sorwes sore,
They yave him Antenor, with-oute more.

But who was glad y-nough but Calkas tho?
And of this thing ful sone his nedes leyde  
On hem that sholden for the tretis go,
And hem for Antenor ful ofte preyde
To bringen hoom king Toas and Criseyde;
And whan Pryam his save-garde sente,
Thembassadours to Troye streyght they wente.  

The cause y-told of hir cominge, the olde
Pryam the king ful sone in general
Let here-upon his parlement to holde,
Of which the effect rehersen yow I shal.
Thembassadours ben answered for fynal,  
Theschaunge of prisoners and al this nede
Hem lyketh wel, and forth in they procede.

This Troilus was present in the place,
Whan axed was for Antenor Criseyde,
For which ful sone chaungen gan his face,  
As he that with tho wordes wel neigh deyde.
But nathelees, he no word to it seyde,
Lest men sholde his affeccioun espye;
With mannes herte he gan his sorwes drye.

And ful of anguissh and of grisly drede  
Abood what lordes wolde un-to it seye;
And if they wolde graunte, as god forbede,
Theschaunge of hir, than thoughte he thinges tweye,
First, how to save hir honour, and what weye
He mighte best theschaunge of hir withstonde;  
Ful faste he caste how al this mighte stonde.

Love him made al prest to doon hir byde,
And rather dye than she sholde go;
But resoun seyde him, on that other syde,
'With-oute assent of hir ne do not so,  
Lest for thy werk she wolde be thy fo,
And seyn, that thorugh thy medling is y-blowe
Your bother love, there it was erst unknowe.'

For which he gan deliberen, for the beste,
That though the lordes wolde that she wente,  
He wolde lat hem graunte what hem leste,
And telle his lady first what that they mente.
And whan that she had seyd him hir entente,
Ther-after wolde he werken also blyve,
Though al the world ayein it wolde stryve.  

Ector, which that wel the Grekes herde,
For Antenor how they wolde han Criseyde,
Gan it withstonde, and sobrely answerde: --
'Sires, she nis no prisoner,' he seyde;
'I noot on yow who that this charge leyde,  
But, on my part, ye may eft-sone hem telle,
We usen here no wommen for to selle.'

The noyse of peple up-stirte thanne at ones,
As breme as blase of straw y-set on fyre;
For infortune it wolde, for the nones,  
They sholden hir confusioun desyre.
'Ector,' quod they, 'what goost may yow enspyre
This womman thus to shilde and doon us lese
Daun Antenor? -- a wrong wey now ye chese --

'That is so wys, and eek so bold baroun,  
And we han nede to folk, as men may see;
He is eek oon, the grettest of this toun;
O Ector, lat tho fantasyes be!
O king Priam,' quod they, 'thus seggen we,
That al our voys is to for-gon Criseyde;'  
And to deliveren Antenor they preyde.

O Iuvenal, lord! Trewe is thy sentence,
That litel witen folk what is to yerne
That they ne finde in hir desyr offence;
For cloud of errour let hem not descerne  
What best is; and lo, here ensample as yerne.
This folk desiren now deliveraunce
Of Antenor, that broughte hem to mischaunce!

For he was after traytour to the toun
Of Troye; allas! They quitte him out to rathe;  
O nyce world, lo, thy discrecioun!
Criseyde, which that never dide hem skathe,
Shal now no lenger in hir blisse bathe;
But Antenor, he shal com hoom to toune,
And she shal out; thus seyden here and howne.  

For which delibered was by parlement
For Antenor to yelden out Criseyde,
And it pronounced by the president,
Al-theigh that Ector 'nay' ful ofte preyde.
And fynaly, what wight that it with-seyde,  
It was for nought, it moste been, and sholde;
For substaunce of the parlement it wolde.

Departed out of parlement echone,
This Troilus, with-oute wordes mo,
Un-to his chaumbre spedde him faste allone,  
But-if it were a man of his or two,
The whiche he bad out faste for to go,
By-cause he wolde slepen, as he seyde,
And hastely up-on his bed him leyde.

And as in winter leves been biraft,  
Eche after other, til the tree be bare,
So that ther nis but bark and braunche y-laft,
Lyth Troilus, biraft of ech wel-fare,
Y-bounden in the blake bark of care,
Disposed wood out of his wit to breyde,  
So sore him sat the chaunginge of Criseyde.

He rist him up, and every dore he shette
And windowe eek, and tho this sorweful man
Up-on his beddes syde a-doun him sette,
Ful lyk a deed image pale and wan;  
And in his brest the heped wo bigan
Out-breste, and he to werken in this wyse
In his woodnesse, as I shal yow devyse.

Right as the wilde bole biginneth springe
Now here, now there, y-darted to the herte,  
And of his deeth roreth in compleyninge,
Right so gan he aboute the chaumbre sterte,
Smyting his brest ay with his festes smerte;
His heed to the wal, his body to the grounde
Ful ofte he swapte, him-selven to confounde.  

His eyen two, for pitee of his herte,
Out stremeden as swifte welles tweye;
The heighe sobbes of his sorwes smerte
His speche him refte, unnethes mighte he seye,
'O deeth, allas! Why niltow do me deye?  
A-cursed be the day which that nature
Shoop me to ben a lyves creature!'

But after, whan the furie and the rage
Which that his herte twiste and faste threste,
By lengthe of tyme somwhat gan asswage,  
Up-on his bed he leyde him doun to reste;
But tho bigonne his teres more out-breste,
That wonder is, the body may suffyse
To half this wo, which that I yow devyse.

Than seyde he thus, 'Fortune! Allas the whyle!  
What have I doon, what have I thus a-gilt?
How mightestow for reuthe me bigyle?
Is ther no grace, and shal I thus be spilt?
Shal thus Criseyde awey, for that thou wilt?
Allas! How maystow in thyn herte finde  
To been to me thus cruel and unkinde?

'Have I thee nought honoured al my lyve,
As thou wel wost, above the goddes alle?
Why wiltow me fro Ioye thus depryve?
O Troilus, what may men now thee calle  
But wrecche of wrecches, out of honour falle
In-to miserie, in which I wol biwayle
Criseyde, allas! Til that the breeth me fayle?

'Allas, Fortune! If that my lyf in Ioye
Displesed hadde un-to thy foule envye,  
Why ne haddestow my fader, king of Troye,
By-raft the lyf, or doon my bretheren dye,
Or slayn my-self, that thus compleyne and crye,
I, combre-world, that may of no-thing serve,
But ever dye, and never fully sterve?  

'If that Criseyde allone were me laft,
Nought roughte I whider thou woldest me stere;
And hir, allas! Than hastow me biraft.
But ever-more, lo! This is thy manere,
To reve a wight that most is to him dere,  
To preve in that thy gerful violence.
Thus am I lost, ther helpeth no defence!

'O verray lord of love, O god, allas!
That knowest best myn herte and al my thought,
What shal my sorwful lyf don in this cas  
If I for-go that I so dere have bought?
Sin ye Cryseyde and me han fully brought
In-to your grace, and bothe our hertes seled,
How may ye suffre, allas! It be repeled?

'What I may doon, I shal, whyl I may dure  
On lyve in torment and in cruel peyne,
This infortune or this disaventure,
Allone as I was born, y-wis, compleyne;
Ne never wil I seen it shyne or reyne;
But ende I wil, as Edippe, in derknesse  
My sorwful lyf, and dyen in distresse.

'O wery goost, that errest to and fro,
Why niltow fleen out of the wofulleste
Body, that ever mighte on grounde go?
O soule, lurkinge in this wo, unneste,  
Flee forth out of myn herte, and lat it breste,
And folwe alwey Criseyde, thy lady dere;
Thy righte place is now no lenger here!

'O wofulle eyen two, sin your disport
Was al to seen Criseydes eyen brighte,  
What shal ye doon but, for my discomfort,
Stonden for nought, and wepen out your sighte?
Sin she is queynt, that wont was yow to lighte,
In veyn fro-this-forth have I eyen tweye
Y-formed, sin your vertue is a-weye.  

'O my Criseyde, O lady sovereyne
Of thilke woful soule that thus cryeth,
Who shal now yeven comfort to the peyne?
Allas, no wight; but when myn herte dyeth,
My spirit, which that so un-to yow hyeth,  
Receyve in gree, for that shal ay yow serve;
For-thy no fors is, though the body sterve.

'O ye loveres, that heighe upon the wheel
Ben set of Fortune, in good aventure,
God leve that ye finde ay love of steel,  
And longe mot your lyf in Ioye endure!
But whan ye comen by my sepulture,
Remembreth that your felawe resteth there;
For I lovede eek, though I unworthy were.

'O olde, unholsom, and mislyved man,  
Calkas I mene, allas! What eyleth thee
To been a Greek, sin thou art born Troian?
O Calkas, which that wilt my bane be,
In cursed tyme was thou born for me!
As wolde blisful Iove, for his Ioye,  
That I thee hadde, where I wolde, in Troye!'

A thousand sykes, hottere than the glede,
Out of his brest ech after other wente,
Medled with pleyntes newe, his wo to fede,
For which his woful teres never stente;  
And shortly, so his peynes him to-rente,
And wex so mat, that Ioye nor penaunce
He feleth noon, but lyth forth in a traunce.

Pandare, which that in the parlement
Hadde herd what every lord and burgeys seyde,  
And how ful graunted was, by oon assent,
For Antenor to yelden so Criseyde,
Gan wel neigh wood out of his wit to breyde,
So that, for wo, he niste what he mente;
But in a rees to Troilus he wente.  

A certeyn knight, that for the tyme kepte
The chaumbre-dore, un-dide it him anoon;
And Pandare, that ful tendreliche wepte,
In-to the derke chaumbre, as stille as stoon,
Toward the bed gan softely to goon,  
So confus, that he niste what to seye;
For verray wo his wit was neigh aweye.

And with his chere and loking al to-torn,
For sorwe of this, and with his armes folden,
He stood this woful Troilus biforn,  
And on his pitous face he gan biholden;
But lord, so often gan his herte colden,
Seing his freend in wo, whos hevinesse
His herte slow, as thoughte him, for distresse.

This woful wight, this Troilus, that felte  
His freend Pandare y-comen him to see,
Gan as the snow ayein the sonne melte,
For which this sorwful Pandare, of pitee,
Gan for to wepe as tendreliche as he;
And specheles thus been thise ilke tweye,  
That neyther mighte o word for sorwe seye.

But at the laste this woful Troilus,
Ney deed for smert, gan bresten out to rore,
And with a sorwful noyse he seyde thus,
Among his sobbes and his sykes sore,  
'Lo! Pandare, I am deed, with-oute
Fenix Flight Jul 2014
Down to my last bit of strength
Walk out of work in sobbing tears
Start the hike home
half a mile
81 degrees

"Yo Panda you look beat"
I stop dead in my tract
That voice
It shouldnt be here.
Is it really here?

Afraid to hope
afriad to believe
Take a gulp of air
look up.
Am I seing things?

Chillign against a car
a smirk across his face
arms crossed
sunglasses oddly on
HAWK

Big brother Hawk
in all his dark glory
drove 8 hours give or take
just to make sure
I was ok.

Runnig into his arms
I cling to my big brother.
Wrapping them around me
lifting me up in a
big bear hug.

Safe, secure, peace.
In Hawks arms
I always feel
those three things
No matter what.

"You're safe now Panda,
I'm here for you,
You're not alone."

He whispers to me
And I know he means every word.
Tuesday (7/15/14) My best friend who is like a big brother to me drove all the way from Massachusettes to where I live just to make sure I was ok after my almost suicide attempt.
I love you so much hawk you are so important to me. thank you brother
When I was young I used to dream nd wish to get older then that happened but I've realized the stress of being old is much more than the teenage drama I used to get through, the stress of having that solid life is much worser than the stress of high school, the stress of wishing is much lesser than the stress of pushing harder  but still find your self in the same page, the stress of which u have to report off everyday is much better than the stress you have to handle everyday, the stress of seing your family falling apart is much better than the stress of trying to bind your family together but it keeps falling apart, the stress of things which are far from you is much better than the stress your part of in anyway
Élodie BLT May 2015
When I'm with you,
I feel like i'm more than the depressive girl i usualy feel like,
When I'm with you,
I feel like i'm wanted and pretty and funny.
When I'm with you,
I feel good and the moment you're gone i keep hearing your voice and your laugh, i keep seing  the way you sake your head to move your hair.
When I'm with you,
you make me laugh and make me wonder if i'm crazy because of how ****** up some of our conversations are wierd,
but,
i love it that way.
I love you that way.
When I'm with you,
I love you,
And when i'm not with you,
I still love you
not a poem again
Hello Hi Aug 2015
A year later, still that pain lingers,
Seing you happy in someone's arms,
Wishing i could rewind times,
All the things ive done,
So many regrets fill my minds,
Wishing i could unwind time,
To the time when everything is fine,
Time where every love song make sense,
Time where we were happy and glad,
Regrets as you slip through my arms,
Just wishing that youre still mine.
Jack Dalton Oct 2013
House on fire,
House on fire,
Role me a phat one.
Tonite the house ,
Tomorow nites up in smoke.
The walls were brown
Wall paper.  
Upinside here.
A white beard of smoke.
Goblin green walls,
Purple stains,
Scattered gold vains.
What a joke
We felt like smoked out
Hot patatoes,
I sat on my missing phone.
*******,
Coconut musics third encore.
Remember what you said.
I said sometimes say the truest things.
Remember what you said.
You become what you love.
He needs help.
He doesnt know,
What isnt his own.
Isnt my best friend,
Starting to bun out,
My bic lighter,
Is out.
My hands strike a match,
Is it so much to ask.
There were so many clicks.
Jump up or something
Else happened
To apear
Just to gorge
On your ptsd
Like the memory
of seing your last horror film.
You left angry,
And told us repeatingly.
I need help
tell us what we can do.
Help us tell you and
You can  show us
whose fault it was
I told you not to let anybody
do what they did.  
What is it worth
doing all over again.
All the reconziliation
Speeds off with ten dollars
In gas money.  
Did you know
What to do
after one interview
In a shrinks office.
Your inner thoughts
have to record
everything.  
And for a few seconds
Every thing pushing
towards her garage.
Found a place upwards
in new hours slowly
able to erase the dust tic by tic.
Now we can start counting
Episodes you had.
Nowe we can understand what you have
And by december you will have the best christmas
Your peace on earth will be seeing a baby boy cry
When it snows.
Oratile Maroro Aug 2014
Ended up opening my eyes,
Eyes burning from not being closed.
Being exposed, or suppose,
Them po-po's took my girl,
A sleep, calling her a **'.

Mouth closed, better propose,
Something to transpose,
This hurricane, into a home.
Lost without my nose.

Tossing and turning on my bed,
Holding my Head,
****! I feel like I'm dead.
hunger?...
But the only thing,
On this fridge, is Bread.

Vision blurry,
All I see is Red.
Eyes on the Cealing,
What happened to the,
"MaMa said" ?

I hate this feeling, insomnia.
night prolongs, lifeline is a drama.
mama, ain't here,
seing every stain of my pajama
oh No! The hour of coma.
#traumatized #insomnia #lonely #sad #Sleepless #dreams #me
Eros got bored
one shimmering afternoon
he watched television
and was asking the moon

Do I have to look that deep
to find simply what I need
while thy wifes simply
plays, the food she preparates

And suddenly Psyche appeared
dressed in **** underwears
and sporty shoes
like a modern lady
stepping up infront
dancing the most simple funk

They just had a conversation
and the time abreviation
shall we now count ?
and fall in bed both
in a haste
and have some love to
grabb !
of the modern era
or postmodern blue
flower s biggest leaves
once more under the moon.

Then passion awoke
and their bodys so hot
they slide and caressed each other
gently, and these humble existences
turned sweety
sweaty.

Music sounds from the radio jazz
laying in bed and shimmering sounds
the one under the others arms
the other over the unders barm
touching , feeling, loving , dreaming
penetrating, sensing, needing
screaming.
Desirer, up in ****** zones
Into Yin and Yan silver notes
Eros over the other playing
Psyche is falling the other yearning
the love of earning
desirer shifting
together
into a big sleep
were he woke
up, seing her in
the most beautiful
dress
Gazing skys

Both left behind.
a little of poetry I wrote.
Within those glasses
Is the person I want to
Know...
The person who kept me on the flow.

On the widest
Ocean I will sail
With you, I just can't fail.

I am not a God
To give you the stars,
Because I am not
Of what you've desired

And as you walk by
It suddenly breez,
And for a while,
It's like my whole
World freeze.

I'm vulnerable to your smile,
Seing those make's me dead for  a while .


And when I'm with You.
I have this feeling that I Can't tell.
And It's like into a bottomless pit I've fell.


You don't need to wear perfume to make you sweet.
You don't need to wear make up to make
You beautiful.
Your  love is whom I want to  meet

And you're...  like an angel ,
send by God to lift me out..  from hell..
Cause now I belong to you,
And on you, aint no letting, go..

For my heart only shouts your name
Cause  this feeling will never change,
And you're always in my mind..
Hoping you might feel the same.

Oceans may roar, earth may crack,
Rivers may flood, I'll always be at your back .

Till God comes back, Even if  devils wrath.,
We'll hold hands and traise the  same path..
ev Oct 2014
My absence  in writing have made me wonder
What make a poet write?
Falling in love made me speak out
With every anxious and happy moment it led to
Dealing with new emotions confused me
A confusing I tried to solve by seing my thoughts in black and white
Letter after letter, line after line
My messy, tangled brain became something with a structure  

But it's hard to write when your inspiration lives hours away
When you learn to control your emotions and can't experience new ones
Because the love or loss you write about isn't their to love or leave you
You don't know what you feel anymore therefore you stop feeling
Now you don't know whether to love or leave

The last part isn't true
I just miss him so much so if I let myself feel the pain
It would crush me
-ev
Lisa Pospisil May 2019
P is for PRAYING for a safe return home, PUTTING on a brave face everyday, and PROTECTING yourself at all costs...

T is for TRUSTING that someone will be there to help you, TALKING to someone about your feelings, and TELLING your story to try to help others...

S is for SAYING that you need help, SEEING your life change right in front of your eyes, and SLOWLY coming to grips with seing your friends die all around you...

D is for DOING what you have to do everyday, DREAMING that oneday your fears will go away, and DYING to fix yourself but knowing that you can't...

THAT IS PTSD!!!

By Lisa J Little
Michael Parish Sep 2013
I give him a few ***** of crumbled up bread
And watch him dive off of the telephone wires

Hes a vetran

Has he learned to forget about public opinion?
Or does he even care.

                     I dont know who he harmed.

Seems movies have tarnished the crows motive.

Hes a menace?            I guess hes born to be the way he is.  A menace.

                               Though, I dont know the truth about crows

           I just like seing him fly  by once in a while,  ill always prepare

                                          a meal   

                                                        and watch his hungry soul get something good.
                                                         After all he is someone I cant decline a visit from.
Amanda Edmonson Jan 2011
you thinik its easy for me.
seing you and her together
it makes me sick
but i have to **** it up.
never thought it would feel this bad
never thought it would be like this
never thought it would hurt like crazy
all i can do is sit and cry
i dont want anything
i dont even want you
they say ill have better
but know.....
i dont know
NOW I KNOW ITS TRUE!
CUZ I DO HAVE BETTER!
<3 you riece
Vic Sep 2019
Yeah, You're really easy to write about. Some people are hard to capture. Not because they aren't 'deep,' but because they just don't have that thing. That thing that makes you turn your head around again becuase you just want to have another look at those eyes. Maybe this will help explain. You have people, and some of those people are really good at writing. And some aren't. Now imagine if you take a really good writer, and someone who struggles with it, to write a poem that captures the beauty and feeling of, for example, a broken window. Someone who's good at writing, good at seing the beauty and the broken in things, can write it down with so much ease. On the contrary, someone who doesn't see it, it's way harder to write everything just about right down. I feel like I'm one of those people who can turn everything into poetry. And you said, you never expected someone to write about you. But I know, and I'm sure of it, that if you ever met another poet, they'd write about you too. Because every poet I know, would turn their head around too.
I sound stupid af but this dumb **** needed to get out.
Michael Parish Jan 2016
My pink toes my jerky
Driftwood something yellow
Like hot dogs something nuts
Like a grren home run
Ya my rest
My privacy
My screaming snooze dreams.
Somone spun lip stick
Like ******* or keats
Somebody kised
My drunk asain drunk neck
Somebody killed
Somedy went to their mother
Im under winsheilds scraming phony
Co piolet tuaila valley
Look left we kicked shopping centers
Some man who screams like
Short *****
Goes listen
I finally admitted you did my back
Caking dizzy scream
Some man my hair
Some man i hate
Some man nobody wants
Bedz wax
He whines hes called blood
He dri ks steak he won
He beat the used ****
Well here goes privacy
My red head tok my room room
I cat litter the bay dreams
I find rade im gay
My **** i pace the boys
It seems everyone hold my dads hat
Ifi could kiss my dad
Tell my mom she runs with seaweed
Wehat we ****
We buy we ***** drinks
Why keep something
I dream of addictive ****
I dream of inteligance
My dad gre wild my dads dad would of hated my hair cream my dads dad respects ******* but swore a white mans
Hair cut belongs in the red blue cut atoms apple break down who runs who kills who wears
Who goes home with no fault until pies goose her.  Well
She love my cards when the carpets partedand checkersmeant seing aa young man wit no control.
Howmany now
Since im older
Ever wished they just ****** the boy
Howmany got freedom
No body they only hope love got a better *******
Love got a wiser time!
Luis Mdáhuar Sep 2014
I, who did not want to see
nothing but clouds
predicting already
A snow storm
I was full of snow
Without going to school
In Mexico City
Snow?
cries the Director
Get into your class room
And stop seing clouds!
Cirrus were the guilty
For my scolding
The snow never came
The clouds passed ... ... ...
like grammar
about
My head
Clouds that can only be seen
by those who do not study
One day, I remember
I left my chair
Full of ****
the teacher did not let me go to the bathroom
Suicide,  best suited for the inside. Plastic wrap laid down nice and neat. Its going to be a sweet little treat when my mother breaks through my locked door seing me lifeless in the floor. Im so glad you can adore me now after all the silence thats made me violent not twards others but myself my inside ate itself destroying itself with overthinking leading me to this dark place where my eyes will never open again ill never have to worry about this silent pain again..
Iwo Andrzej Jul 2019
Heartfelt cold type of a guy, lost in life
No place in this world for my type, standing on a crossroad, praying hands to the sky. I just need a guide
Enternal thoughts, creating this concrete writer, I got fuel for words, abused enough to start a fire.
I'm hearing distance whispers, numb in my feelings, penetrator of wombs, demons speaking to me through the ceilings.

My tounge with words from deeper than ether
Shadow men, down under - working against the beginning, they wanna' destroy the beginning, so they aiming at the end.
You can call them mates, but you know it's only a pretend - The black man was first on this place.. They took you for friend, you took them for slaves

Do some research, know your ******* place
This world is the dumbest *******, they don't even bother to replace these men, schooling indoctrination must be working well.

Don't you see it's a race against the race
Snowflakes melting, screaming "let's accept more gays!"
**** the biological functions, its a self destructive, non breeding phase.
Trust me, you'll loose if you take the backdoor In a straight forward race.  

Whispering in my ear, EVERYDAY it's getting clearer and clearer
"Tie the robe tighter" aren't you tired of not being able to be your own provider
Trying to keep whats left intact - but I'm a shattered fighter, broken inside out can't remember last I slept, ****!
I don't wish to be the survivor, my luck is out - joker mentality makes my life way harder
Balancing on the edge, looking at his inferno, the same way I'm looking inside my fridge, hungry.. But but no food to taste, not feeling, I'm ****** to the bone pain is temporary, I never understood that term, all my life I had to carry, weight of the world
I see many.. Stupid ******* weak people, they are so many.. I know.. But few working brains controls all the dumb

Dante described hell, but forgot everything is inside yourselves.
We are stuck in the Dark, possessed and doomed to always fall.
Here is life, a gift from god, only a slave will embrace. The catch is no fun, so let them chase.

The Devil is singing my name, I always felt life was a curse and a gift it's all the same
, I don't like surprises, I play my own life like a throw of dices
I smell beasts and burned skin, far away you can feel the winter is coming, they arises, but I have Snow.

Towards shadows, towards pain
deep into the forrest, where no soul is to blame!
No stop of me,  I'll be Like Gump, life is like a box of chocolate, and sometimes you'll get Trump
**** your illusion, not understanding we're all ******* prophets, there is no such thing as coincidences
you are useless, because of the lack of knowledge.. If you are woke, Add a D between use and Less.

inside terror, keeping my eyes away from the mirrors.
God created this life, why all the pain if he is our guide through hard times and internal wars.

I spit on it, and threw it away, and tossed it.. Life is a gift? It's more like poison Turning upside down, I do the Kriss Kross dance - cross
I'm strong, and yet weak in my knees to pray, not to the sky, but the other way, I'm searching for the light in the darkness - Lucifer carries on what I wanted

I just want  everything to turn black, and silently disappear
, feeling this pain coming to an end, darkness within I don't longer have to pretend, I'm Linking all the dots, last walk in the park, nothing else matters
In the end!

Coming thru, cold as ****, nothing but some feelings getting blocked, I eagerly wanna bite the apple, I'm hungry and I'm stucked, I'm in my own prison of Eden, I'm so mental ill, I don't take pills unless it kills, and serpent  fears to be eaten, I'm soulless and Lost, Like George Bush, - look inside the coffin, connect to the sky, wait a minut.. Is that Steve Jobs?
The bite of the apple, it's so crystal clear you all blinded  bought all that expensive hi-tech gear.
Snakes do what it takes.

Living like cancer, I'm not a survivor
Keeping it Blair witch in the woods I see rituals, they call it illuminati, all seeing eye, you can't escape then border between illusion and reality, tri-an-gles, and all seing eye
It's the eye of a tiger. Ask Eldrick, all the money in the world didnt turn the hole in One (Holy one) any brighter.


White privilige, ***. I can't turn any whiter, throw the dirt on my body, Bury me in sandcastles, as if digging was your hobby, do your ******* ****

Got these skeletons inside my closet, playing Marco Polo inside my brain pineal gland, I try to save it, I can't stop it! Your third eye is key, so detox it.

, I'm ready to cut it, the feeling of living a life, that's not worth it, cut it!

I pray to jesus, but then the devil walks in.
I guess only one of them listens and understands
it cuts me inside from my soul to my pride, that's not living life, feels like a dream, so I won't open my eyes, to realize the real me, pin me to the cross, I let me sacrifice. I can't live life with these two eyes.

Yeah depression is keeping me busy and just alive, it's like the heart  and my brain is synchronized,   I'm slowly forgetting, all the things I've been missing, put it on a milkbox, like all the lost souls, which enforce these sources of adrenochrome,


So I walk towards the sun, with my teeth biting my tongue,  I keep my feelings locked , affraid of the scenario where I'm the loaded gun, not affraid,, just a bit paranoid, has these inner dialogs, wait for me, stay away from me.. No, don't leave.. Ahh... ******* RUN! I feel the cold blade playing like a violin on my arm, let me drain until empty Ness embrace my soul, where soil covers my face, and the rotten heart is invited down to his place.

Daddy ain't around, and momma searching for love, I'm attaching to any kind that reminds me of love, just wanna feel warmth like dragons in game of thrones so much cold, and a bit of snow
Mommi ******* told me, she made a mistake the day I was born. I'm spinning around - lost my compass, ah I'm finally gone
looking back, only  smelling burning rotten meat, I hate I ever was born. Hard and soft, I would do anything for love.. Take a short way  to hell where I ******* be-long, I'm finally gone, burning inside out, you really wanna know? OK... Yeah the devil has all your friends and two horns.
Listen people to my story
Come children
It's not a fairy tail
But I'm sure you'll like it anyway

Once I was a warrior
Fighting through the world
Many battles I've won
Just because of glory upon.

I killed many, I would say
I know it's morbid
But I liked it that way

People called me a hero
But I think I was
The encarnation of evil

The glory I'd won
I tried to dissipate

Now people hated me,
I knew
So with torches on fire
To my door they would walk though

One day,
They came to my house
Burned the hole thing down
And left me screaming

Are you seing my skin?
Wrinkled and thin?
They are from the flames
Of that very same day.
I thought of it by being an old man that was trying to explain some kids why his skin was like that while trying to entertain them.
Keiri Jul 2019
Come on now run, before it's too late.
Hurry, you don't want to miss this.
Missing your own life, what a terrible fate.
Live forever in the empty abyss.

Run now fast, don't think of you nor he!
Don't stick around, don't worry.
You need this and that.
Oh no don't do that instead.

Run for it or you'll be sorry.
The courtain is up, you'll miss the story.
Oh look on stage, that lady's fat.
She's got barely any hair on her head.

Where are you, look at this glory.
However the part after it got gory.
She's pretending to be fine, with that pet
But what will she ever gain from a rat.

You're still not here, you need to hurry.
I'm coming I'm coming, but I'm seing blurry.
What about this play is so great is what I don't get.
It's horrible it's sad and it's full of dark and red.

It's about a girl that lived too soon.
She regretted every single step.
Dreaming of changing the world, going to the moon.
It's a typical story I'd rather take a nap.

Oh finally you got here, are you ready?
What in the world took you so long.
Always such a bored laddy.
How can you not like the play or the song?

I don't like it and never will.
Never when my own story is told.
It makes me feel like I was standing still.
While everything around me got to unfold.

I ran and ran and now I'm finally here.
But I just realised, it's only about to start.
I don't like long intro's I say with a sneer.
It's hard to set the story appart.

Are you ready for the rest of the story?
Trust me, it'll only get better, you won't be sorry!
My own motivational progress, this is how I keep myself going. But you know, I learned it from you ;)
JCabanilla Mar 2018
Here we go again,
tears are falling like rain.
Life is now being insane,
and every part of my heart feels every pain.

Dying isn't my goal,
but now I'm thinking if I should fall.
Life is so unfair,
I'm now quiting in every dare.

I can do anything,
but don't push me with everything,
I'm not a toy nor a thing,
I'm alive and I can feel any pain like a human being.

I can fall easily,
I can quit,
I can **** myself,
if that's what you want me to do.

I can hang myself,
I can stab my heart,
I can easily drink a poison,
or even drowned myself in a tub.

I can begged for my life,
I can surrender my own life,
I can trash my effing life,
I can do every wrong if that's what you want.

Can't you see?
I can't think straight,
I can't fight,
I can't even stand.

I'm quitting,
You can now live happily,
you don't have to worry about me,
I'm happy to know that you are happy seing me dying.

I quit!
#Depression #NoToSuicide #NoToQuitting
Pralina Oct 2017
Beautiful as the sea
Happy as the sun
Playful as the wind
and intresting as the fire

Her dancing reminds you of rain
Seing her sad causes you pain

You know you enjoy
her unecpected side
You know you could
never bare to see her cry

She is clever
She is talented
She is a friend
and she is important

Her name is Helen
sth that i wrote for my friend's birthday
Elli3 Dec 2020
ughH i hate
hatE feeling lonely
its like everything inside me is being
suuuuuuuuuuucked out.
and on top of that
my motivation has g o n e
d
o
w
n
the drain
so even normal tasks are a struggle :(
theselfpity
is at an allll time low
just seing others happy with their friends or just being active makes me feel jealous
i just want someone to embrace me and tell me ethery things okay
and i know im overacting but i cant help it;;;
maybe i shouldn't use this site to vent heh
Semihten5 Jun 2019
dark is guilty
we were seing
roads are responsible
we were walking
ends are different
we were knowing
and cold is true
we frozen
Vic Oct 2019
I dreamt that I kissed you last night,
But I wasn't sad when I woke up.
Because seing you in real life is just like a dream,
Like the dreams I lived were real.
A poem every day.
16-10-19
Laura Jul 2017
i listen to you
all day
all night
bouncing that ball
and shooting it
sometimes it bangs off the rim
and sometime it goes right in
i dont know you
and you dont know me
but everyday i sit
seing you
hearing you
play that game
and getting better everyday
Alors là, Baby Doll !

Tu as commis l'irréparable

Dans la surface de réparation.

Tu as dit textuellement, ma poupée :

"Ce sein c'est Le Saint c'est Mon sein Mien à Moi "

A moins que ce ne soit :

"Ce Saint c'est l'essaim c 'est Mon sang Mien à moi "

Ou bien encore

"Ce Sang c'est Le Sein c 'est Mon seing Mien à moi. "

Alors moi je crie haut et fort : SACRILEGE

Peu importe tes réclamations phonétiques et phonémiques

La faute est flagrante. Pas besoin de ralenti ni d'arrêt sur image :

Tu as fait sein majuscule dans la surface de réparation.

Tu as enfreint les règles de notre jeu

Alors l'arbitre a sorti le carton rouge

Eh oui l'arbitre logiquement a sifflé pénalty.

Souviens-t'en une bonne fois pour toutes :

Ton Ombre est l'Ombre est Notre Ombre Notre à Nous

Notre : déterminant possessif

Première personne du pluriel

Qui veut aussi bien dire Ton nombre que Mon Ombre

Alors oublie, je t'en prie, la propriété privée

Apprends à partager

Oublie les "no trespassing on the premises "

Les "ne pas entrer", les "private property"

Ce sein, c'est le sein, c'est ton sein, je te l'accorde, mais c'est aussi le mien

Donc par conséquence et par extension le nôtre

Mathématique et grammatical , ma chère !

Alors comme punition tu me traduiras en 88 langues

Pour que ça te rentre bien dans la tête

Cet aphorisme :

"Rouge sur rouge, rien ne bouge

Vert sur vert , tout est clair "

Et je te le dis et le redis encore à toute vitesse et au ralenti

en anglais : this breast is the breast is your breast is our breast

en portugais : esse peito é o peito é seu peito é nosso peito

en hindi :
yah stan hai stan aapake stan hamaare lie hamaare stan hai

en roumain : acest sân este pieptul este pieptul nostru este pieptul nostru la noi

en chinois traditionnel :
Zhè rǔfáng shì rǔfáng shì nǐ de rǔfáng shì wǒmen de rǔfáng

Et en zoulou : lesi sifuba isifuba isifuba sakho sisifuba sethu kithi

Souviens-t'en, Baby Doll !

Nous sommes une équipe

Un duo et non un duel

Et pour te le prouver encore une fois

Je me mets dans les buts

Pour éviter la sanction suprême

Aux deux pianistes-duettistes que nous sommes.
KG Oct 2021
Just in case, new sorrows bother me far from seing myself be me again but I'll save face
Painting the door red *** orange sunsets on the flanges locking poor binge watchers lore friend roll dice across the lives dangle on the porches
No sense in portly bored men loose last nights lunch launched upon the confidant smiley subordinate freckles change places with the spittle. Reminds me to riddle you this question riddled rediculous by forethought rampant in its rending the positive outcomes floundering to even sprout. So much doubt now.

— The End —