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Lizzy Jan 2017
I cannot explain
The dullness that has invaded
My tired brain.
I don't know why
I don't want to try
To do the things
I know I should.

I can't be bothered
With questions about
The future
About the world around me
Because finding the answers
Requires much more energy
Than I have to offer.

How do I learn
How do I grow
With this incessant
Low hum
Ringing throughout my body?
There's no ignoring it.

I'm a *****
To my unnecessary pain.
And I hate being too weak
Too busy
Too apathetic
To fight this depression.

All I can do is laugh
And keep pushing,
Hoping that one day
I will wake up with the power
To do something about
The sadness that keeps me
From everything I have yet to reach.

For now,
I'm so sorry
That my anxiety
And my sadness
Make me stagnant
In the face of truth.

I'm so sorry
That I feel the need to
Appologize for the way I am.
But the way I am
Is not the way I want to be.
Saint Audrey Jul 2018
Casualty: my interest fading
Once waxing moon now seen waning
And I did concede your irksome warning
And watched as the rest played out

So let bygones be gone, fallen out by the side
Of this road, worn down, still restless, keeping straight
Eyes glinting off token little bits of hospitality
Mother nature being so inclined at times

The stress so unnerving, I hardly doubt it
But tension is eased once it comes to acceptance
And I accept in full, finding time to unwind
Winding stretch of lonely road, dotted here and there by
An occasional landmark
Or a lonely tractor pulling behind it
Iron bars, old and rusted
Found in their hold
Bales of hay or
A small little pond
With a bench beside it
Holding initials carved against the grain

With a heart surrounding

As mine beats slower

At last, the sun begins going down

And the moon grows brighter
Even in its state
And my feet move faster
Though my body is withering
I feel this separation growing
As my mind takes flight and leaves me

Behind, in the twisting twilight
And alone, I walk along
frankie Jul 2018
How deep were we in?
Restrained by chains that burn our skin
Car headlights, a hush falls over
Shines through the window, time feels slower
I hope he knows that we care
He grabbed him, dragged him by his hair
Cry, scream, or maybe not
Could have done anything, but we couldn't make him stop
Traveler Jul 2013
Where does happy dwell
In the part that swells?
Not even **** can last
Does it live within a laugh?
Is happy but a thought
Manifest and then lost?
Surely life must know
When vibration grows
When time flows
Slower than slow
Yet where does
Happy go?

If I chase it will it run?
To catch it must be fun
I've seen happy in a look
I've read those happy books
Still  I need a little more
To be happy at the core
And then happily I'd rest
 Smiling more
  Frowning less..!!.

Traveler Tim
re to 19
Ray Parker Aug 2017
black hair glows brown
touched by sunlight
eyes like chocolate
voice like honey
melt me
help me
shake me
break me
miss me
miss you
can't wait to see you
time ticks by
slower than the turtle
who forgot
he was supposed to win the race
either way
i can't wait to see you
i miss you
i love you
please call soon
Steve Page Aug 2018
I'll be completely honest but not completely true 
I'll be true to my heart but not always true to you

some of my words will reflect much of what I feel
while you'll find that other lines are more contrived to conceal

you see a poet can use their words to bear their deepest feeling
but look again and you may see something deeper redder bleeding

read again between the lines of the fresher tender cuts
and you'll brush a slower finger over old wounds long untouched 

you may disturb my untold stories seeping through the pages
and you may find a heart more like your own where an older passion rages
Hidden rages don't often find words
When our story's over
The last chapter and final page
We'll look back and will remember
Those happy and glory  days.

We were young and filled with laughter
Living wild and fancy free
Not a care nor thought
Of what would ever come to be.

We now have grown much wiser
Still we have our past regrets
But that's what we call learning
Lessons we will not forget.

But now we are contented
We live our lives with ease
Here within our neighbourhood
Surrounded  by the trees.

Now we move a little slower
Our health it is a bind
Then we are not complaining
For we had those happy times.
We intend to be around a long time.
But with age comes limitations
Looking at old photographs
We were young and fancy free.
DuBray Sep 2018
The autumnal equinox
Plays a slower music box

The browns, reds, golds
Bends, crumbles and folds
On nature's debris road

While a frosty moon
Fills up a child's room
Like a huge balloon
Umi Mar 2018
Gather in a dark night, impurities of the mind caused by poisonous emotions from loss and envy, of spite or jealousy, forming misery.
Love fades, ahh once so innocently precious, yet fragile in structure,
Leaving the servants of it in great despair and even darker hate,
Where affection ruled supreme once the scars of misery are causing a heartache from leftover rampage, a riot now presented. Ah, phantoms
Swaying back and forth between sadness and anger one gets lost in his own blindness, destroying and bringing himself into ruins,
This lingering sadness seems eternal as time passes painfully slower,
An enlighting realisation should do the task and let the soul lost inanihilating, irritational despair grow once again strong and happy,
A spark illuminating the dark, with patience and hope for the future,
But until this event is taking place, a personal **** is what has to be crossed alike a bridge made of anxiety, depression and self doubt.
But worry not all you lost souls who are waiting for light!
After all, every winter and every night find their end and ensure the dawn of a blooming spring dream.

~ Umi
Life is being ****** out of me.
I can feel it as my lungs become
too heavy for me to hold and
my heart gets slower and slower.
My mouth turns to a dry cave,
A desolate place which my stomach hates with a burning passion.
Numb legs ache a lot in the cold.
No warmth can coax my fingers
To curl around any little mug.
They’ve lost all hope of ever
being so cosy again as I keep
Walking down this endless street.
Though my steps are getting
Slower and slower and slower.
Every largening ***** in my spine
Tingles when I lay on a hard surface.
I wonder why I do this to myself.
Then I remember and force a
smile so ****** convincing that I
unknowingly manipulate myself.
I breathe in as to stop the dizzy spell,
the light goes dimmed, i stumble.
"Are you okay?" They seem to ask.
I will be okay. I’m always okay.
But the seconds it takes to get back
on my feet are getting slower
and slower and slower.
Deborah Downes Feb 2017
Like so many
they rush to southern climes for
greener pastures
year round golf a
Slower pace
Cheaper prices and
Tropical temperatures

Unnaturally taut and
they crowd the local haunts and
Clog the highways.

At best they tolerate whoever is not
Pensioned or

At worst they ban the
from their gated communities  
and social gatherings

The pendulum has swung from a time
when the Old were at the
Mercy of the Young
to the present
when Youth is
Oppressed by Senescence

Once democracy’s backbone they now wax
Conservative having obtained their
Slice of the pie

Now there is no pie
Mother Earth has been trampled to death and the
Toiling hands of those who
Stoke the fires of industry are
Blistered and discouraged
You don't have to be old in years to belong to this culture; and even if you are old in years, you don't have to adopt this lifestyle.
Cheated and defeated – my mistakes, themselves, repeated...
A monster made of gluttony; I’ve no option but to feed it.
I saw the writing on the walls,
But, my feeble eyes had failed to read it.
Still, I’m not convinced that this warning
Was chosen by my eyes, not to be heeded.

Perhaps my head was the catalyst.
A byproduct of an acid trip;
Had split this world in two.
Some for me and some for you.
Maybe, this warning wasn’t meant for me...
Maybe, it’s for the second half of two.

“Ye kind-hearted shall not go forth”
                              … is what I believe it said,
Yet I can’t be too certain.  
                              After all, I’ve lost my head.
Which brings up some emotions...
                              Or maybe they're allusions?
Although, I can’t tell, through the hallucinations,
If these are real or illusory movements.

So the fish hook pulled me deeper,
                       All the while stretching skin…
                       I knew not about the rabbit hole to which I just dove in.

It seemed a lot more like an alley when I first took a glance,
I took that fateful step, I guess I chose to dance
What a recital it’s been! And we haven’t yet hit intermission!
Though I’m not sure when that is…
For I seem to have lost my vision.

The Queen of Hearts shouted, “Off with his head!”
But without a brain to notice, I couldn’t hear what she had said.
She said it before the guillotine dropped…
So was my brain already gone when my head hit the block?

I’m not sure where to find the pieces, for I don’t where know I fell apart.
I didn’t know I was a headless servant
To the heartless Queen of Hearts.
Now, without a head, I’m trying to piece it back together.
I’m worried that this rabbit hole just may have me trapped here forever.

I’ll trace my steps backward, and try to find my forward
But as I set my pace faster, I find I’m moving slower.
Things turn upside down, when you’re this far down
And the carousel just spins – around and around.
Gaining speed with increasing malice,
I hopped right on and chose a different path than Alice.

Here we arrive again at choice, but was it one at all?
This is when I found the Hatter – where the bounds of logic fall.
He asked me why I was there.
He said, “My boy, have you gone mad?”
And as I searched for reason, I concluded that I had.

Standing on the ceiling, we both watched to world twirling.
Sipping from our cups, between the stirs of sterling.
We chatted over tea, and while I was now content with spinning,
My content grew simultaneous with the Cheshire Cat’s grinning.
He looked at me and said, “Upside down, yet you seem alright…”
I responded with a “Hm…” and my spinning turned to flight.
I flew from the table, and as I questioned if I was stable,
I grasped for the air.
And for the first time, I was able.

Apart from the question, I knew now that I was mad.
Because I gripped a fist of air, knowing full-well it can’t be grabbed.
I swung through the air… maybe I flew, I’m not sure
But as I passed over ground, I surveyed it for Her.
I looked for Alice as my guide, but someone took her place:
The heartless Queen of Hearts and her over-sized face.
Was it just the face or the head?
What’s a head without a face?
It seems I lost the bounds of logic upon my fall from grace.

But was I flying? Or was I falling?
It seems that orbit was my calling –
For as high as I fly the paradox of orbit keeps me falling.
Maybe I’ll stay out here, where it’s quiet by the stars
And there’s no signs to read -- no catalyst for scars.  
But did I ever escape? Am I still in the hole?
I found amongst the fragments the completion to my soul.
Somewhere between falling and flying, I told the truth while I was lying
And found my equilibrium between the living and the dying.
Lauren Sep 2018
September has come and I can feel the change in my fingertips
     You are home again and I am moving slower
Warmth arises when I look at you, maybe its the heat
     Or the way every step you take matters.

You look at me as if I hold secrets, as if I am a grand and open sea, undiscovered
     And the next moment, like the dreamy memory of a path you once took,
The sound of a drum, the smell of pine wafting
     Unchanging, unforgotten

I may know nothing at all,
    But there is one thing I am sure of—
My soul aches to be near you, to feel yours sing back softly
    I know the seasons change for a reason
The tides push + pull, hearts pulse for years on end
    And that you my dear, are as stable, as steady as the earth beneath my aching soles

You lift me up,
You carry me home.
i've found you finally
Izzy Aghahowa Oct 2018
i look at you
you look up and away
you're ready to flee
from this deserted place
sow your seeds, grow your roots
somewhere else

i inhale the dust
circle the discoloured wood
the living room floor was colder than usual
the air was thinner than i remembered it to be

i know it's real, your face is here
and it breathes
along with the tress
on the outside
from me

Desperate, i breathe slower
to be closer to you
but i cannot control my hearts racing thoughts
any longer
Benjamin Sep 2017
Last fed is the last out of bed.
Just a few words to live by.
I guess what I mean is
I meant what I said,
I never looked back as I tore out of town.

Back home, folks were slower than most,
lazy days, nowhere to go.
Not much disrupting,
except occasional snow,
and me, I kept right in my lane.

Now those days are gone,
and for real,
I don’t miss it.
Never been ****** like I was that one Christmas;
now holidays hurt, but I won’t
cross those bridges.

Symbols in smoke are sketched in the sky,
I mistook them for clouds,
guess the shapes caught my eye.
My sister once scribbled a scene in her notebook,
looked just like Milwaukee, but felt just like home.

Everyone hurts,
we’re all just the same;
but I’ll make a name, when I dust off the dirt.
Can’t quit for trying, and won’t keep pretending.
All we can do is
keep on enduring.
I walk a pace in tall covers, a distance set from other brothers, waiting for a herd to feed; I crush and blow away some seed.

The grasses burnt on prior prairie, warm yet cool for day is airy, far can see I from top hill; I stand in patience very still.

Copper ochre is my skin, the brothers and I are family men, on the native hills we live and finding those called kin, we hunt today the land we’re in.

Off in distant rumbled cloud, dark foreboding getting loud, the sound we seek from running crowd, ahead of storm front watching grasses plowed.

Stoic, I, my umber eyes as mist now falling from the skies, I stand here patient chest held high, shoulders square with chin to sky, my flowing hair in breeze divides.

Land it shakes I take to knee and feel the earth, the vibrating, the rumble sound is thundering, is louder still than weather’s thunder, light she fades from skies I’m under.

  Yansa nearing, wind has told me, I wait here at clearing with spear to console me but something awful lurks around for along with rumble comes alarming sound, a growling type from a hungry hound.

Bear my brother, hawk my guide, no tree for shelter or horse to ride, my hunt now over after solemn wait for Mother Earth has sealed my fate.

Two wounded wolves approaching wily, one it limps or seems to sway as smaller animals run away, their eyes beguiling on stormy day, I prepare for fight, no time to pray.

I seat my spear, it is useless, take out knife and axe I loosen, the pair they circle long and wide, and carefully I match their stride.

  Quiet now, prairie peaceful, time seems slower, I cannot see my people; the wolves at bay they snarl near, I stone my heart against all fear. Were they hunting Yansa, like me too, I just easier prey to pursue? My younger days would see wolf for dinner as I’ve grown older so too am thinner.

  What difference makes it slow or fast but when they pounced did run in tandem? In last second my actions random, I lose my hatchet in one’s side and dive while stabbing until he’s died. Face is ******, arm got chewed, and they tricked me with a method skewed, for what seemed wounded never was true, my back turned towards her, neck in view, she took aim and rent sinew.

  A ****** mess became a horror, I swung my blade and thought I caught her; she tore my hand off and mauled my face then left me dying in a grassy place. The warmth of day is leaving body, a hunt now do I thus embody, the rumbling ground again is moving and cool of night is somewhat soothing, my killer stalks the area-round but soon she’ll eat me where I’m found.

  The rain it cooled me seeing Sister Moon, Brother Sun was dipping with Great Father Sky as Mother Night came to watch me die, my life fulfilled so now I die, Great Wolf’s passion can’t deny; to all that knew me I say goodbye.

  He who fights wolves says,  -goodbye.
Rhyming narrative about a Neolithic Native American.
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