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patty m Mar 2016
Dropping flower petals into the water
voices merge, lifting in song and prayer,
I wish that I could join them,
instead I whisper my prayer
very quietly, hoping that God
might hear me.

Brief deceptive gleam of sun on water
that catches the eye,
now hollow as dried driftwood, light as foam,
everything conspires against me even the weather;
Tumultuous sky, the squally wind squeals through wires, rattling flags.
The sea is glaucous with strange phosphorescence;
I sit watching rabbit tail grass flicker and bob palely in the wind,
the insects hum and the grass whispers.
Adrift in tides the
sand beneath my feet
spills centuries of debris,
shells, bones, pieces of fossilized matter,
fragments of unimaginable time.
Fire flies often dance here and the crickets sing in
warm grassy hollows

Somehow we co-exist, men exerting surly independence
trying to climb above the wretchedness.  
I take a loving look backwards
at this seaside town, and the boatloads of wood
brought in to fuel our fires.  
Now the rain pummels in endless drops
forming ever bigger puddles,  
flooding dreams gone to seed.  

Perspectives collide,
this is my way of life
even when it becomes bland and unsettling.  
All the icing on the cake has washed away
why cling to ghosts with their warm persuasive kisses
in the poetry of moonlight?  
Now the fire has burned out, leaving me cold
with only the ghosts who slide through end of day.
Haley Tyler Feb 2018
And like that
my voice has been stolen away
Anxiety barricades like invisible steel walls
Trapped, I’m left banging with clenched fists
A prisoner within my own head
My brain a chemically imbalanced warden
My mind in solitary confinement
i've been denied bail | h.t
Salsa Mar 2014
When the night sets in,
when there's no more light to wish the darkness away,
here's when my thoughts come rushing,
intruding my peace of mind.
They, are coming to haunt me.

The voices all around me
utter continual sets of sounds.
Sounds that leave me open wounded,
sounds that bring me down.

Weakened, they leave me,
these words that crack my heart.
I'm trying to break loose but these times are just so hard.
I don't want to be left alone,
lost and scarred.

Whether I survive or not will forever remain a mystery.
I'm dying to know,
is there no end to this misery?
Depression. (This was actually the first poem I wrote since I started writing again. Not my best but I'm still proud of it.)
dadens Mar 27
why does the world drain me of all that I am
but then expect me to fill myself back up like its nothing?
© d.a.dens
Life goes on with the good and worst...
We're here for the sake of thirst.

The sunshine of morning can't b e changed,
Just as the destiny of ours' can't be replaced.

A new born child has a different spark,
Cause he doesn't know the awaited one.

Happiness touches like it pours after dry,
Acting every time is our foremost try.

Virtual world is a clear illusion,
Where we now distinguish among relations.

Duties keep on running in mind,
Still everyone can't be of true mankind.

Imaginations seek the greatest pleasure,
But reality is the only whining figure.
Carter Ginter Jul 2014
I think one of the biggest struggles about being on your own is realizing that you can't run from things anymore.
No matter how small, if you put something out of your mind,
it comes back and it really *****
because you're forced to face everything that you're afraid of
and every emotion that you'd rather not have,
all at the same time.
Anything that you've shut out,
everything that you regret,
especially things you try to deny to yourself,
you can't escape.
I guess it's part of growing up but no one warns you about it
and if you don't know how to handle it
it's one of the hardest things.
K Balachandran Nov 2015
Don't ever ask me what am I, an ancient story
of a battle lost to remain in the realm of the sublime,
unmitigated grief that visits, again and again,
reminding the journey of pain though galaxies,
far of yore to the days of present.

In a moments of desperation I discover  the bard,it could
be rather told thus, he meets me at last, as was his wont
Bard, celestial lover, before my eyes you appear thus:
I see you holding in your hands a magic lyre, so rare.
that goes on strumming non- stop, to bring birds, the tunes,
that lives in far parts of the universe,even unknown  to most,
they do vary,have colored feathers;memories living in
different layers of my consciousness,always buzzing like a beehive.

I am the single, magic , potent, word, a mantra
that in it's kernel carries the , seeds of eternal, "I am that"

I hear the speakings of the words,that brings to life
experiences of different kinds,on their beaks some one
carries ripe fruits, the result of long days of sweat and tears.
Each fruit has a flavor distinct,each word carries a seed
that will grow to be a mighty tree,many birds would roost.

Bard you are a wonder,tying past and future with one string
of a lyre converging in the heart beat of the ebullient present,
you easily transcend the three, and every other dimension
of time that mingles in your heady brew,unrivaled it stands.
In this journey through unknown paths, what really is the possession
of lonely human being?
(C)  K.Balachandran ([email protected])
Try to think, to make the words come from a place they don't exist.
Try to go within and find something that's special.
Where the trees line up.
Where the blow from the wind is true from within
It's nothing anyone can do to stop you from telling your truth.
For feeling how you do.
How do you feel?
What's on your mind?
Who are you thinking of?
Why do you even care?
Who will be there when your voice finally, finally wake up and speak?
Will, there be someone to greet you in the morning and to lay down with you at night?
Will, there be someone to help you to conquer your fear? When you need someone near and dear.
Well, I don't know the answer to those question.
But I know for myself what I've experienced so far.
Greatness!
I've seen a baby born. I've seen a family torn. I've seen the pain and the anguish and fear. I felt the love of a mother toward her son. I've been my father's pride and his shame. Yet I proudly carry his name.
I've been rich, I've been poor.
I've opened and closed the door.
I went in, I went out.
I've gotten up from being down, I've gotten down from being up.
I've seen birds fly, I've heard them sing. I don't even know what it means.
But I still hope, that one day I'll see the King. Sitting on his throne, and saying to me “Welcome home “I've been with you all alone.
I've been with you when you never knew, that I was you.
I am your King, I am your salvation, I am your meditation.
I am your situation. I am the truth.
I am the thought that led you to where you are.
I am your Car. I will carry you there just the way you are.
When you get there you will be changed.
Don't worry about what you will say.
Because I'll give that to you on that day.
So rest in peace. And be born again my friend. Because I am you from within.
Freestyle Meditation words from alchemy. 1820 Leonardo Shepherd author
Bartholomew Sep 2018
Could it be my destiny to be lonely?
That thought alone alwayz fathoms
Though I make love to them like they’re my soul mates
I treat them like they do not matter
I give my love like cupid but my emotions I turn into an undertaker
I bury them.... afraid that it’ll one day be used against me so I rather play it safer

Could it be my destiny to be alone?
Roam the world lost like a nomad with no place of home
Just tell me you “love me” as I caress your neck with my lips
I steal her soul and feed off of her energy as our tongues twist
I know she’s lying, hell I want her to cuz I can’t afford it to be real
Because I rather have scars from the past than new wounds that have to heal

Could it be my destiny to be in a solitary state?
I write this as I lay here next to her, wish I could remember her name
And she probably doesn’t even remember mine
But it’s fine....
This is continuous, with a new woman in bed alwayz next to me
I’m crying out for help here but for tonight just love me even though you don’t love me because alone is my destiny
Inspiration (2pac- Can u get away/ The Weeknd- wicked games)

To every woman I’ve slept with that wasn’t my signicant other.

To Destiny; I know I won’t see you in the morning and you probably not goin call me back, but thank you for tonight)
Pagan Paul May 28
.
Light hits my retina
through the prism of a tear,
distorted faces pass
with images fragmented
inside out
and the smell of tallow
as a candle splutters,
falters and winks out
for the wick collapses cruel
like a hamstrung dancer.
The tear exits stage left
and rolls down the wings
of a thoughtless cheek,
teeters on the brink of catastrophe
and falls upon a blank page,
reviewing its brief life
as a lazy metaphor,
so I look at the remaining solitary candle
and grieve for the lost tear,
as an understudy takes its place.




© Pagan Paul (28/05/19)
.
5th entry in Fool's Diary.
.
Tanay Sengupta Sep 2018
Standing under the starry sky,
He gazes at the crimson moon.
He is old, solitary and shy
He knows his end is coming soon.

The wind smiles as she passes through him,
Brushing his hair, kissing his cheek.
Playful as she may seem
She knows, he is now weak.

He gazes dreamily at the sky,
Reminiscing the glory days of his life.
Like everyone else, he will also die
But, he is happy as he knows that he will be with his wife.

He wonders as he watches the crimson moon.
He knows, his end is coming soon.










Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
I hope you enjoy this poem. As usual I am leaving the interpretation part to you. Happy reading!
Joanne Russell Oct 2018
People look at me all alone
And like to assume that I'm lonely
Yet they can't seem to see
That I'm not on my own,
Because I can talk to the monsters
under my bed
I can be friends with the voices
in my head
I can get along with the devil
who took my soul
And make room for the ghosts
who filled the hole
I can go play with the creatures
in the woods
Or talk to the man who gives me
my druggy goods,
And I can call all the demons by name
And we can all get together
And be alone with each other
Because we all like our solitary the same
I may seem lonely because I'm alone, but know that if I am "alone" then it means that I like it this way.
In prison her
Keep her heart, her love in solitary
Throw livid love, beat beauty in her
He says he loves you
Cné Sep 2017
Let me mold my body along your curves; trickle yourself into my entire being

Vulnerable, ****, my heart exposed, palpably we connect across the starry sky; you ... within me

I want your intimacy to linger along the edges of my lips hours after you've gone

I ache to be consumed by your eyes, intense with emotions, long after the dawn

Take me to your intimate chambers where hearts race; the rhythm of our silhouettes melded on satin sheets

Leisurely feel your way; a slow descend along the avenue of my rhythmic swell; forgive me of my quivering wanton needs

Allow me to graze at the gates of your femininity, drinking the honey from your pink walls; to feel your crowning point between my lips

How can I resist those wandering lips that stirs the curtains of my garden alcove; perfectly painted in honey dew, I throb for the touch of your kiss

Drape your thighs upon my shoulders; let the waves of satisfaction cascade up your spine

I beg to be released, dear God, of this intoxicating spell; I submit myself, heart laid bare; oceans of emotions no longer can I hide.

Find your eyes locking with mine; my torso parallels yours, my body pressed to you; equal in ferocity and tenderness

Mesmerize by your burning eyes in our melting flesh, so strong your hold; yet so tender your caress

Utter our names in fiery moans both whispered and screamed in heated breaths on our solitary night

Vile obscenities float out on heated breath, as cool air kiss our molded skin on the evening our time takes flight

Take me to your heart & cast away the flesh; allow our souls to weave in the throes of passion as our bodies mix into one; slow-motion ecstasy

A longing deep inside, the locked chambers of my soul to exotic places beyond our imaginationsyou sneak into my heart to fulfill my every fantasy 

Feed me the lullabies you paint on your canvas; orgiastic symphony we conduct in cascading tides; trembles throughout our bodies when our fluids mix

Let me paint upon your heart a ballet of our duet; the crescendo palette of my tide drown you in the spirit of our lyrics

Your ripe fruit quivers tenderly while our union completes; take my hands and let me be yours

Hold my sated body that tremors from the wake; a union of our souls ensnare a bond secure
~
A Collaboration with Jack Jenkins.
https://hellopoetry.com/jack-jenkins/
DuBray May 2018
Solitary mist
There you sit
Above me like a cist

You desire
To take me
Away from life's fire

I resist
You persist

I let go
You let the snow

Roll in
I'm gone

So is my sin
And song
Talking Back Apr 13
Oh solitary Rabbit
Do you not long for a companion
or Home?

Or  do you prefer watching this worlds seasons
come and go
alone?
King Panda Sep 2015
play
parallel range of
solitary confinement
omnipotent panic linking
experience
developed underwater
predictable anger
theories of the
mind
jammed in a mason jar
left to ferment
for years near extinct
then
ahhhhhhhhhhhh…
release of the rotten
the aged and
contracted
this involuntary drama
where you call
only to say
*bye
see you later
Cné Dec 2017
~
O Painter
with thy own eye
                        would thee
paint me in mine own natural hue
prithee paint me as i am,
imperfections
            and blemishes true

Load thy brush
                      with colors sundry
to maketh yond first pure sweep
across the ****** frieze,
fill'd with pangs of hunger.
paint me as i standeth
                  bethought, in deep

With mine own love and mine own desire,
blurring the edges unclean
with mine own regrets
                  and mine own mental gyre,
in mine own natural age,
               of deep forest green

O Painter
Paint me sinister turquoise,
in lavender and maroon,
combine the amethyst and amber
blend the iceberg
       and the indigo moon.

Paint me as i standeth,
       prithee see with thy eye
a mistress in yond lady plight
Prithee paint me all i am
i cullionly
a mistress in all yond lady might

Paint me in the optimistic
                             silv'r of dawn,
but don’t miss the purple
to shade the bruise
                              of the bygone.
paint me in the sky blue journal

O Painter
Paint me as a unique template
smudge black white and grizzled
merging all the colors of thy palette.
col'r me a rainbow
                            in a rainy drizzle

Paint me tall so yond i standeth
loftier than any mountain
Paint me as a dram bird, delicate
with soft feathers silken

Paint me harmony, as a violin
so yond i can sing thy solitary tune
paint me as thy poetry
         with song and melody
wrapp'd in a cocoon

O Painter
paint me as a dream yond rises
                               in did saturate colors
with a steady upbeat flight awry
tint, a fluttering
             of a quite quaint butterfly

Portray me with endurance
imbue so bold and bright
doth not hesitate
                to depict mine own mind
in profound fuchsia and white.

Useth the colors yond thee would borrow
Thy palette not yet exsufflicate
Paint mine own loss and mine own sorrow
in search of a shade so ******

Adorn mine own heart in glowing garnet
at which hour thee paint mine own love
add a true broken blue shade
of the cloud and the rain above;

Study mine own dry sorrow
                              in mine own soul
useth any shade thee plaited
soften the edges of control
in a tinge of xanthene.

O Painter
Prithee paint me
Mine own passion and mine own spirit
shall has't a crimson r'd hint
mine own remorse and mine own regret
shall reflect an ink stain print

Paint me in mine own eye so true
O Painter
but add a dash of courage too

~
When I paint, I’m never quite satisfied as I see all my mistakes, blemishes and colors not quite right. I tend to keep painting to try and get it all right. At some point, I arrive with the conclusion, if I keep going I’m going to mess it up. I stand across the room and, it’s then that I’m amazed at what I have created. I like to think that I’m seen in the same way by my creator.
Stalling,
Protracting
Procrastination
To its limits before
I put pen to the pages
Engage with the latest
Of sapien traits
To sate its **** Deus
Ex Machina milieu
Of acculturated
Anti-natalist ends
Without means or wherewithal
The journey expends
A final destnination
Where it can reside
Free of incarcerations
I've sealed it inside
Thinking mine
Is a mind
Of exceptional kind
And I must keep it safe
From the dumb, deaf and blind
But I see what they see
What they hear
What they feel
When I make these
Insanity
Fantasies
Real
trapped
in solitary confinement -

with the key to the exit
in your reach -

with nowhere to go
and no one to meet -

with nothing to do,
besides watching seconds,
evolve into minutes,
evolve into hours,
evolve into days.

would you leave?

- v.m
i'm honestly not sure what this is.
i have nothing to do so yeah
Jon Thenes Jul 12

#1

I’m no good at merrymaking
I do it alone
I do it dark
And I go at it with rabid excess
I am fellow to it
Until morning
And I make the morning hurt
A mark is embed


#2

Amoungst great company
I am dog unwanted
In the comapany of one
I am villain bird
I am influence
I hit a drinking partner in the weak knees of weak truths
And things go madly south
But tonite I am alone
As I ought
And not sought out


#3

Astray from the fireside
Into the woods
In the territory
Where I fear to thread the pathways
I shall recover my work
In the graven woodland
I shall face myself down
And bed darkness
Where I am truely wed


#4

Thriving and well hausted
I strain and clamp upon the energy
I face my enemy
My power
I bide from his readings
I make ****** pleasings
Form verbal greeting
And extend a hand
For this
The first of many a meeting


#5

Upon this connection
This Faustian reflection
I make the primal
The woe in me
And the red wash of ravenous pages
My activity
My moulded tool
My rage
My howl against creativity
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