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Bison Apr 2016
Maybe life will be everything I thought it was.
Maybe this ain't the escape I dreamt of once.
I need to slow down, maybe say, "pause".
Take the reins, pull over these lost thoughts.

It gets better. It gets better.
I wear my mood like the weather.
It gets better.
Right now, Fall is my favorite sweater.
Bright orange reminds of the day I first met her.

True colors finally show just before the snow
Shoulders shrug before they get cold
I should've known.
I wore my coat to postpone fresh grown sorrow. I should've known.

And I'm thinking back to Summer's plenty
Forgetting the day she left me
And the way it blessed me
Now I'm drunk with my feet up, breathing in real serenity.
Deb Jones Sep 2017
Dying
She came to me to die
The last words she said to me
Were as she reached
To cup my cheek
"My baby"
She lay on her side
Facing me
I cried for her
I could see the awareness
in her eyes come and go.
When I knew she was looking at me
I gave her strength
And the words
Let go mama.
John is waiting for you.
Bill is waiting for you
Ashley is waiting for you
Grandma is waiting for you
I smiled as much as I could
Fed her my strength
Her eyes searched mine
Begging me to make it stop
This dying
I gave her stronger doses of morphine
Her kids gathered around her bed
Her children and grandchildren
Every one of us there because she gave us life
They surrounded her bed
But I made sure she could see me.
When the awareness faded I cried bitter tears
But every time she needed me to see her
I looked into her eyes
Encouraging her
Showing her that I was with her
Walking her home
Holding her gaze as I urged her on
Her children that weren't there yet
Called on the phone to tell her she was loved
She begged me with her eyes
I gave her more morphine
Did I give her too much
When she took her last breath
I vomited.
When everyone left the room
and the hospice nurse had come and gone
My sister and I bathed and dressed her.
Her favorite clothes
Then when my sister left the room
I washed her hair and braided it
One last time.
At that moment alone with her
I felt at peace
This woman that had ruled my life as a child
Ruled my life at a distance
Always in my thoughts
Always seeking her approval
I never raised my voice to her
Never cursed in front of her
Listened to her sometimes fantastical stories
Laughed with her
Emulated her
Adored her
Never was annoyed at her rewritten history
A woman who asked me for advice
Who trusted me
Who loved me.
Who bore me.
I am glad I didn't avoid her eyes as she died
It was the last thing I could do
For my mother
Bison Mar 2016
All life is now a waking dream.
How silly must we be to take it so seriously?
CryBaby Di Nov 2018
Sometimes you just have to accept the things that you cannot change.
Like, you can compulsive lie your *** off but it still cannot change what is true.
They say that the truth is the
hardest pill to swallow,
so instead I crush it up and I snort it.  
Even if there were things that I could change I fear I'll just make it even worse,
so I mission abort ****.
I lack the ability to actually change me,
and my courage is cowardly.
I'm hopeless, but I really do hope
that things will hurt less.
I'm useless, but I don't think that
I'll ever use less.

If not this, then it would be that.
It's all relative Nonsense where overall
you were just another substance.
But who am I to deprive misery of
its love for company,
honestly how could I possibly
maintain stability and be granted
any serenity, when all that is
surrounding me and inside of me is constant insanity ?..

Yeah, it's called Drug Abuse,
but is the term "Drug Abuse"
and the overall meaning behind it
really that simple ?..
In which being limited to the technical bottom line meaning and stating that by doing drugs you are abusing those drugs.
Where in other words the users
are apparently the abusers of the drugs that they use,
but isn't it possible that the drugs
actually abuse us too ?..
Jeff Gaines Apr 2018
Hello everyone,

  I'm so very sorry … I feel horrible doing this, but I have no choice. You see, I have published my first book on Amazon/Kindle! This piece (and many others) had to be taken down because they do not allow published material to be available online for free. (Go figure) I wanted to leave the shell of the posts because I felt compelled to leave all your helpful and loving comments. (Silly sentimental, I know), but I also didn't want to just have the pieces disappear without an explanation. I feel bad enough as it is!

  I owe ALL of you so, SO much for all of your reads, love, and support. It was YOU that gave me the gumption to FINALLY get off my **** and publish! Thank you all for the warm comments, camaraderie, and encouragement! I will still be here, reading, uploading and just being the Rascal that I am. How could I EVER leave you guys?

  The book is called “The Way I See It – FictionPhilosophySoul Food” and it will be FREE for the first few days on Kindle Select, so watch for it, if you are interested. I hope that you go and grab it. If you do, I would also hope that you find it worthy, you would leave me a good review. That will help me get in the public eye! Soon afterward (2-3 days or so), it will be available in paperback.

Find the book(s) here: www.amazon.com/author/jeff.gaines

Or find the book(s), and all about me, here: www.JeffGaines.world

  Soon after, I also hope to have my first novel (a supernatural thriller), called “Wanderer” available as well!

  Wish me luck!
Big, Biggest Love,
        Jeff Gaines
Haven't we ALL had this dream at one time or another?
Sara Kellie Sep 2018
Starting with coverage from BBC2.

Brushing calm shadows into
pastel hills.
A rhythm paints terrain a
sugary brown.
Flicks of green create
fauliage serene.
The clean tasteless air is
cotton soft.
A effortless stream runs
cobalt clear.
Where salmon gymnastics begin
each year.
Squirrels practice dance routines a
glamorous red.
The doormice dressed and ready
for bed.

Continuing coverage on Ch4.

The perch, the tench sat together on an underwater bench.
Discussing bait and hooks whilst flicking through some fishing books.
What's he eating? Mr Mole,
it looks like cheese and ham
on a soft brown roll.
There's a chicken and a fox that
live round here.
Seriously, they've been dating each other for about a year.
Now, if you take the next left,
then over the stye.
There's a duck lives there and he's got a glass eye.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Poetry by Kaydee present what is believed to be a creative first.
One story, one habitat, one poem giving you the viewer, two different narratives.
Now here's another twist because instead of you, the reader, reading a poem in the traditional way. We handed our work straight to two television broadcasters and they have each made a program exactly as they wanted with no constraints.
Showcasing two well known broadcasters with polar opposite styles.
Poetry by Kaydee presents to you 'The Meadow'. We take up the story with BBC2 before switching over to CH4.
Will you notice a change of style as we go from the 'high brow' production of the BBC to a more laid back, social media type of production from Channel 4.
Sara Kellie Jul 2018
Go.
You're just above the water, just.
You know you're going, don't you.
You've hung on for ages, years.
You seem ok about going, are you.

Just go, now.
Just go.
Go.

Poetry by Kaydee.
A short poem about the right to die.
Calmly exiting life.
Serenity.
Quiet.
Peace.
Calm.
Asante' Nov 2018
It was a beautiful moment
Of dissatisfaction.
One where she realized
Complacency
Does not equate
With serenity.
That stagnancy
Does not yield joy.
So she moved,
Not only her feet.
She moved mountains.
The earth quaked beneath her,
And flowers bloomed
In every crack.
And this,
She thought,
THIS is how it feels
To be alive
Eleanor Feb 22
floating
on a glass green sea
serenity in spite all

and yet,
serenity is not destined to stay

drowning
as glass turns to shards,
crying out for salvation
dying out
for no one responds

sinking,
with the realization
the sea was never truly serene
Mae Jan 12
You are my solace.
Every moment I'm with you
I'm in a world of serenity,
I don't want to escape,
Please don't set me free.
Cause I want to be a prisoner in this dream.
English Jam Feb 2018
She is a ruler, proud in her glory
Sets hearts to flame, turns lovers to screams
Her nails alone are ripped from a story
Reduces soldiers to men without mean

Eyes marble-black, with sharp slits in the centre
Hair that waves as though in water
Glistening red as crowds begin to enter
They know her tales, but none have caught her

What she requires - they all deliver
Her voice is a choir - that makes all shiver
She doesn't walk
She struts

Bends over in a seductive style
Caresses villainy in her seat
Crooning, intentions hidden all the while
Inaudible but the tread of her feet

March, march, march on to the drums
The Dark Majesty never forgets
Absorbing herself in hymns and hums
Oblivious to drunken admissions of regret

Queen of tyranny will never rest
But for serenity - she fails the test
She's majestic
But joy eludes her
There's a song by Queen called The March of the Black Queen that was the chief inspiration to this. Give it a listen, it's simply amazing.
I may look like a blooming flower of spring,
but I'm just a melodious bird, which can't even sing

my existence may feel like a pretty serenity,
but my presence is the profound definition of insanity

your illuminating light adorns anything,
but my 'precious' darkness is too much adored to
accept your everything

yet your cute laugh, and those pursed lips
they take my breath away, and my heart slips

I'd always want to take all the pain, and the blame,
but did you know that we bleed the same?

I'd never twist all my love, and send it to flame,
because did you know that we bleed the same?
she can't accept it
she can't deny it
she's there hanging ,where
she can't love him, yet she can't leave him
Zell Jul 2017
3am
They say if you’re awake at 3am, you’re either inlove or broken.
I say it’s neither.
Perhaps it is the silent space between feeling too much and feeling nothing at all.
The indiscernible sentiments of someone who has been long lost and is yet to be found.
A soul that is neither gleeful nor wretched;
And instead waiting to feel, pondering on certain circumstances,
Or probably continually yearning for a type of serenity that time could still not dare to give.
To all the nocturnal people out there, cheers!


© 2017 D.A. Barreras
Anna Jan 4
It’s happiness I crave.
The strange euphoria from dancing in a rage.
The beauty in a books single page.

     How can one not be enthralled with the simplicity of everyday things?
     How can people glance over the beauty of life’s calmness?

It’s the happiness I crave.
When I see an old couple hold hands,
Or when I drive across the land.

   The peace and serenity of life.
   The happiness from the little things
This is what I crave.
Jack L Martin Aug 2018
I like trees.  
So do the bees.
Scents of flowers on pillowing breeze.  
Share this moment, will you please? 
 Seriously!  don't just tease.
Keiya Tasire Jan 22
1 year, 9 months, and 21 days
Since your spirit took off it's glove
Finally free and released from pain.
Today I can say
The times I cry for you have become fewer.
More are the days
I remember you sweetly
And love you fondly.
Your hugs
Your smiles
Your voice
Your questions
Your teasing
Your playful humor
Intelligence and keen wit.
Thank you
For the joy that fills my heart.
Thank you for the tears
Of sweet sorrow
that graced my cheeks
Thank you for
Opening the door of serenity.
Allowing and letting go,
I find myself full circle
Embracing our love with joy.
I loved you then
I love you now
I love you forever.
I am grateful
That you were in my life.
Thank you for being a part of my life.
I will always remember you
With a joyful & grateful heart.
I love you son,
Mom
When someone you love dies, it takes time to process the grief. It is possible to move from grief to mourning; from mourning to sweet sorrow; then on to a measure of serenity. Within serenity exists a measure of peace and joy that opens and unfolds the heart.
Holland Michels Sep 2018
I dip my toes
Into the shore of the abyss
A rush of cold
As you greet my pink painted feet

I become bold as you draw me outward
Knees, hips, chest, head
My legs become non-existent, weightless
The power of your waves crash over me
One by one

Under, over, intensely still
I run as fast as I can
But am slowed by your hold
Sand becomes puddy
As it grasps at my feet

I stay out with you as long as I can
Until Mother says I have to come wash up
I float on my stomach
Allowing soley you to push me to shore
This is a large effort for you
As your body recoils like the fading sun.

I shed a tear of salty sea water as I leave you behind
But with a whisper you remind me
You’ll be right here
Watching over me and waiting
For my return in the morning.
Elin Roberts Mar 2018
i've come to realise
that with every fallen snowflake
the life of one unknown to me
is reflected in its icy self.
a snowflakes very existence relies on the individuality of its structure, similar to that of a human life.
everyone has a different story to tell
complicated to those who don't know
complicated to those who do know
complicated to all in a sense because
we sit by and wonder why
why are we here?
what is the meaning of true purpose when
uncertainty plagues the minds of all who breathe
living in a time when the youth of our generation are born into an age so filled with hurt
hate
pain
no common sense in a place where so many have tried to fight for the right of humanity.
all we receive is inhumane behaviour and injustice
uncaring and shallow acts when all we wish for is fairness and equality
you see, although every snowflake is different
their independent beauty co-depends on one another's existence
how can you have a blizzard with a single snowflake?
their imperfections bring out their perfections
each one has a tale to tell
each one brings out the beauty in one another.
similar to human life
have you ever realised the silent beauty in a cold winters snow?
how when engulfed in a snowstorm, you are able to accept peace into your mind, you're able to let go?
you're actually able to think for a moment, and realise
the clarity that silence holds
all that finally unfolds
when
you're able to take a moment for yourself and
let out the breath you've unknowingly held
you're finally able to delve
into a sense of true finality
a final sense of...
raw serenity.
i love snow
Crego Nov 2018
(Insert satire
about my
inevitable
self-destruction
here.)
1330
Matt Sol Jan 26
A soft sentence
between the pines
and dredging vines
under a maelstrom
of moonlight.

Casted stones leave
their footprint and
fall in the wake,
fall in the wake,
fall in the wake.

Longing to reach
the outer bank.
And sink among
the memory.

With no movement
Till no movement
all this pain is
an illusion.

Serenity
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