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Once nothing wondered if it mattered.
Nothing wondered what It was like to be somthing.
because the only thing to stop nothing,
was nothing
its wish was granted.

So nothing became something.

Somthing was so eager to learn
so eager to see
so Something wished to feel Everything
and out of that wish came Everything.

Everything grew and grew without limits
and as Something became a part of Everything
It forgot.
it forgot its mission, its reason of being.
"Do I matter?"

Somthing divided and became Many.
Many started to search for the importance of Nothing.
But Something went wrong and Many were confused.
As hard as Many tired to find the answer they failed.
Something was lost and Many had forgotten the question.

Many thought they had a better question.
Many lost touch with something,
and Many lost Everything,
Many could care less about anything or nothing.

Many only cared about staying Many.

Many started to believe that there was always Something,
and Nothing never existed.
And that is how Many lost its' self.
Many lost the quest.

Some would find a glimmer of hope.
They would join together and find Something
they found Something beautiful.
but they were few.
and sometimes Something would not be found for a long time
they would try to find it by dancing and singing and lighting candles.

But sometimes few were lucky
they would realise that together they themselves were Something
and that they were beautiful....

..and that they were Something because they had eachother
and in each other they had Everything
and when you are something that has everything...

...the answer is simple
Nothing is really ever important...
Nothing really ever matters.
Build trust, Build love, Build towers, Build beautiful And don't destroy it Just keep going to the top young love. Build friendships, Build futures, Build happiness, And don't destroy it Just keep going to the top young love. Give it everything you got push though the fire continue to rise up. **** Knots, Live life, Love life, And between two You should be okay soon Just as long as you continue to build love and don't destroy it.
nosipho khanyile Jul 2018
vivid after sunset,
my thoughts manifest
from energies that surround me.

tangled after sunset,
as I process my technicolours
into somthing society will accept.

but sometimes
there are no words for my thoughts..
Scott M Reamer Mar 2013
Terrible divides, steep creatures fishing from the fissures.
Devil ties, honor cries telling of fable able love lies.
Red rug **** from… Ah stomp down pound twice round.
Let me in dearth harp melody killing me true internally. Over me, you do du thee or in one to learn to unseen these say said twas. What then spoke big loud a proud voice e bound red to set the turns in a state of decay. Spread death red pestilence.
Broken brains with bad temperaments. To know this clever myth, in definitely one word siphon spell check commiserate in-consumption

Only fitting to continue after that, twas broken in two-tone spits of *****
Oh how one can be so indiscriminate, yet be so in to it
Suckling finger to finger, the artist and his soul slip through one another
And ****, there it is… why I am drunk, why so earthbound?
No, No, that la-la-di-dah sing song, nickname, sick game
Ah… already this is where I end, lying before the gate, spread in sprawls of my final death thrall, the spastic convictions, emotional token, so wholly holy that I am certain of this and this alone; they, folk of blend and contrast so steady will carrier this body through the gates, this world or that, bounce and then back, splendor in form, surrender to utter the weight of universal, expressions in the shade of totality
Goodnight too.
sara king Mar 2012
mabey its not always about  trying to fix somthing thats broken mabey its about starting over and creating something better .
Dougie Simps Sep 2013
Women lead to happiness,
While relationships lead to disaster,
Sleeping beauty will awake from his kiss,
But together it seems improbable for a "Happy Ever After"
People await for the sweetness of life only to construe it of its actual meaning
Seems society "preys" for the downfall of "hope", con - ARTIST post up on the corner
Drawing vivid, false, contrast, pictures too demolish another's wishful dreaming,
While I stare at this world and see the potential of people's conscious, through fear and insecure honest truths
I really see nothing...nothing at all, we still avoid the reality of what is real, and what is actually in front of us and painfully true
Dougie Simps
holl up
mark john junor Jul 2013
the moving shadows of
the men gathering
flicker in my vision
cause me to ponder the moment
in a way i had not seen before
cause me to fracture the vision
to decode the meanings in
each mans motion
each mans meaning

her long black hair entangles my head
as dose her deep long looking
her neat clean eyes frighten me
with their possibilitys
with their depth
with their hot beauty

it is not my place to find
a place in this womans life
i am but a distraction to her
somthing to occupy the moment
to phish for lost keys
in sections of some dreadlock music
she erased poems to fit onto the kindle

she removes her shirt
to rinse out the sweat
in the tidal pool
a young woman nearby stops
and stares
smiles when they meet eyes
and i am surfing my beach bike alone
walking it
where am I
where am i going?
i have engreideints
for what make
a buetifull flower?
a kiss on the cheek
can i make love with this potion?
can i make a flower with this formula
what ingreindents do i use
to make somthing buetiful
i was cooking earlyer and i started to dream these are the things i questioned
mark deo biongan Jan 2015
a mirror never lies
the way you look at it in any way
you can never be wise
never could you look away and have different say

what you see ist waht may one get
but never lie the way you look at it
even happy it sees you sad
no matter how good it can show the worse of it

a mirror never lies
what it sees is not the reflection
but the deeper desperation
somthing worse that addiction

it cannot say what you are
but lets you see who you are
say whatever you say but it will show you the way
nomatter how you look at it its you it will show

a mirror never lies that is true
dreams are something you see
dont lie for it will show you the truth
don't argue and it give you answers

amirror never lies to you
for its you who is lying to it
what you see you might notlike
but thats the truth and it hard to fight

never fight what you see in the mirror
for it will just comeback to hunt you
a mirror never lie even if you try
for you are the one lying and not the mirror you face

face the truth no matter what you see
you may be ugly but happy
you may be filthy but clean
its not the reflection who is talking
but its the reflection showing
what you are of it knowing
Riot Apr 2014
why can't i just run away
why can't you just stay
why can't you believe me when i say
there is somthing i've never done
i'm not a victim of that way
why can't i just be who i am
just because i'm not famous
and know where i stand
why do you let people
**** there own people
has it really come to that?
having birthdays in hospitals
without their whole family there
because thier country
doesn't know who to fight
why can't we all help them there?
who else knows about the trubles
in syria
killing there owm
who else is acually going to
"save the children"
why can't we give those children
a safe home
save the children
Broken Dec 2016
It's not what it once was
This broken love in pieces on the ground
We still smile but both know it's fake
We still love but we're both holding out

Too afraid to commit
To somthing that we know could break
We can't live through that pain again
So we **** ourselves and say we're ok

So we love with our hearts half numb
Just incase things don't work out
Hoping our numb parts will be left
If everything else crashes down

It simply is not what it once was
This broken love in pieces on the ground
I take this pill every night
To fool  you into thinking everything is alright
To hide this B r o k e n  heart
From the very likes of you
And shrink my feelings down so no one knows whats true
I act like it's okay
Like everythings alright
But after everything has anyone seen the knife
Does anyone see the blood or the tears that I have shed
Or is my life a ******* broken mirror forever to be dead
I shatter like I'm glass
I break just like a bone
And I won't let anyone in because I'm destinted to be alone
I shiver like I'm cold
When all I need is you
Somthing to hold on to too help me sleep at night
Using people like this will I ever be alright?
zakariya Jun 2015
I wanna write somthing about u
And i want u know
U are the best and u will still the best …
U are the best beacuse no one like you  
U are pretty ♥ beautiful ♥ wonderful
Beacuse u are differnt and i will say that again
No one like u
U make me smile
U make me happy
And i’m sure u will
Never do somthing hurt me
I wana write somthing about u
When people ask me how are u
I said i’m hàppy beacuse i have friend like u
U are the best and i wish u all the best
Beacuse no one like u
this poetry is for my best friend Pamela Ekundayo ♥ ♥
Anthony Perry Nov 2015
I go where ever the wind blows, I keep running to where no one knows.

Everything is in chaos when I become part of the world, I have to find a way out because my logic is always being burned and curled,

sometimes when my head feels unwound I shred my skin then my mind feels unbound.
No one really stays around for long so Im trying to get used to life without sound until the day I'm gone.

There is no beast inside my cage only an animal incarcerated in rage,
like a demon from an endless age,
I learned to conjure myself from every dark place I know, like a story with an endless page. I live my life for myself and accept every experience until the end of my days.
Thanks to Kaitlin Floyd for helping refine the way I position my final draft.
Shane Blue Nov 2012
When i have sleepless nights,
and somthing doesnt feel right
I stare up at the beams,
in hopes that i can form some dreams
I think of your smile,
and all my worries disapear for a wile
Everything you do,
makes me want to be with you

when i need someone to hold,
whenever my heart is cold
when you kiss my neck,
i become an emotional reck
my fingers moving through your hair,  
Feels like we are floating on air

Vladimir s Krebs Nov 2015
that one night where we both hung over. from that unforgetable night when it was only me and you.
i have the feeling like i just need to start running on the beach with the waves crashing behind me. i cant stop laughing when i read your text you sent me.
every night i get waked out  on the energy drinks i cant live with out.
i set a huge fire spelling your name out pouring gasoline all over it.
every othere day i wach the world go bye.  i lay on the beach looing up at the blue sky day wondering will i have to live alone in this world. no matter ill just walk the nigh sky following every shooting star that fly's by. that one night we both had so much fun that i wish i could have again. i never knew you moved where i lived in this quiet sleepy littel town.

i listen the the wases crashing down making littel pools drown the small ***** that scurry to not posible drown.
the wet sand feels soft and makes my mind run lose with not fear of what will come to me next.

i never slept with out seeing the night sky with all the pondering memories that drive me crazy.
day or night the beach makes my heart skip abeat seeing every one frolik with energy  that never last with out a couples date.

i run every night i adopted a fluffy husky names shelby. every night the sky plays a great light show.
i set the fire on the ****** with drinks and my  guitar. every not i played touched your heart when you were finally moved in.

the song i wrote played out for any one to run out my heart.
i take my lighter and light the lantern that shows the way back to our small cozy house.
my dog has a big heart with no lilits to swimm across the oceans with me if i was stranded getting swept out the see.

that one night i finally feel asleep with sweet dreams making my frown turn in to a smile not a plaster fake.
i sprung up in the morning my phone started ringing out.
the caller id i read out was your name.
the day grew long with the most pretties sun set with red pink skys.
every fire i make in the night i set the fires to show no hate.

i went out at night with my husky shelby taking off running threw the crashing waves the water is cold but its all worth it.
i thought i saw you checking me out.
i dont think im going crazy.
my dog and me wresting.
i started looking right in your big kristsl clear safire blue eyes light my heart on fire.
when we meet again after years moved in with me and we started our lives to gather.

i gathered my bag with my guitar my pen and note book. with my mind open with thoughts.

i looked up and saw the dark side of the moon.

ill never walk this deslet world along.

evey night me you and our dog shelby light a fire and undress in to our comfei clothes.
we drink the night away dancing away threw the night.
with the full night sky with every star shining.
the night light show we run and dance till we both feel sick and fall down.
i had a feeling deep down ill be with you again some day when i saw you name id on my cell phonee.

that night where i was just wresting around with my husky i  never thought i would live life with out your warm heart exitment.

that night your text i read out loud has brought both our worlds to gather

i never knew when you told me you were searching for me.
now we are happily to gather till time runs out

i never knew that we both cross echotere  that bright starty night with shooting stars.

i never knew i would ever see you agin to be crazy.

i knew my future would be this amazing with tears of love.

i never knew we would pass echoter on a beach with waves crashing all over the shore line

i never knew if i would ever see you again

i live life with exitement .

i will break the limits to have fun weather were all wacked out on somthing

i never knew my wish i made on the shooting stars would make that night crossing us by
run wild free make life intresting with carles ideas be willing to try insaine games food or what you never thought of doing
Hence vain deluding joyes,
  The brood of folly without father bred,
How little you bested,
  Or fill the fixèd mind with all your toyes;
Dwell in som idle brain,
  And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess,
As thick and numberless
  As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams,
Or likest hovering dreams
  The fickle Pensioners of Morpheus train.
But hail thou Goddes, sage and holy,
Hail divinest Melancholy,
Whose Saintly visage is too bright
To hit the Sense of human sight;
And therfore to our weaker view,
Ore laid with black staid Wisdoms hue.
Black, but such as in esteem,
Prince Memnons sister might beseem,
Or that Starr’d Ethiope Queen that strove
To set her beauties praise above
The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended.
Yet thou art higher far descended,
Thee bright-hair’d Vesta long of yore,
To solitary Saturn bore;
His daughter she (in Saturns raign,
Such mixture was not held a stain)
Oft in glimmering Bowres, and glades
He met her, and in secret shades
Of woody Ida’s inmost grove,
Whilst yet there was no fear of Jove.
Com pensive Nun, devout and pure,
Sober, stedfast, and demure,
All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestick train,
And sable stole of Cipres Lawn,
Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
Com, but keep thy wonted state,
With eev’n step, and musing gate,
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes:
There held in holy passion still,
Forget thy self to Marble, till
With a sad Leaden downward cast,
Thou fix them on the earth as fast.
And joyn with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,
Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet,
And hears the Muses in a ring,
Ay round about Joves Altar sing.
And adde to these retirèd Leasure,
That in trim Gardens takes his pleasure;
But first, and chiefest, with thee bring,
Him that yon soars on golden wing,
Guiding the fiery-wheelèd throne,
The Cherub Contemplation,
And the mute Silence hist along,
‘Less Philomel will daign a Song,
In her sweetest, saddest plight,
Smoothing the rugged brow of night,
While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke,
Gently o’re th’accustom’d Oke;
Sweet Bird that shunn’st the noise of folly,
Most musicall, most melancholy!
Thee Chauntress oft the Woods among,
I woo to hear thy eeven-Song;
And missing thee, I walk unseen
On the dry smooth-shaven Green.
To behold the wandring Moon,
Riding neer her highest noon,
Like one that had bin led astray
Through the Heav’ns wide pathles way;
And oft, as if her head she bow’d,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Oft on a Plat of rising ground,
I hear the far-off Curfeu sound,
Over som wide-water’d shoar,
Swinging slow with sullen roar;
Or if the Ayr will not permit,
Som still removèd place will fit,
Where glowing Embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom,
Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the Cricket on the hearth,
Or the Belmans drousie charm,
To bless the dores from nightly harm:
Or let my Lamp at midnight hour,
Be seen in som high lonely Towr,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
With thrice great Hermes, or unsphear
The spirit of Plato to unfold
What Worlds, or what vast Regions hold
The immortal mind that hath forsook
Her mansion in this fleshly nook:
And of those DÆmons that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
Whose power hath a true consent
With Planet, or with Element.
Som time let Gorgeous Tragedy
In Scepter’d Pall com sweeping by,
Presenting Thebs, or Pelops line,
Or the tale of Troy divine.
Or what (though rare) of later age,
Ennoblèd hath the Buskind stage.
  But, O sad ******, that thy power
Might raise MusÆus from his bower
Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as warbled to the string,
Drew Iron tears down Pluto’s cheek,
And made Hell grant what Love did seek.
Or call up him that left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold,
Of Camball, and of Algarsife,
And who had Canace to wife,
That own’d the vertuous Ring and Glass,
And of the wondrous Hors of Brass,
On which the Tartar King did ride;
And if ought els, great Bards beside,
In sage and solemn tunes have sung,
Of Turneys and of Trophies hung;
Of Forests, and inchantments drear,
Where more is meant then meets the ear.
Thus night oft see me in thy pale career,
Till civil-suited Morn appeer,
Not trickt and frounc’t as she was wont,
With the Attick Boy to hunt,
But Cherchef’t in a comly Cloud,
While rocking Winds are Piping loud,
Or usher’d with a shower still,
When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the russling Leaves,
With minute drops from off the Eaves.
And when the Sun begins to fling
His flaring beams, me Goddes bring
To archèd walks of twilight groves,
And shadows brown that Sylvan loves,
Of Pine, or monumental Oake,
Where the rude Ax with heavèd stroke,
Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt,
Or fright them from their hallow’d haunt.
There in close covert by som Brook,
Where no profaner eye may look,
Hide me from Day’s garish eie,
While the Bee with Honied thie,
That at her flowry work doth sing,
And the Waters murmuring
With such consort as they keep,
Entice the dewy-feather’d Sleep;
And let som strange mysterious dream,
Wave at his Wings in Airy stream,
Of lively portrature display’d,
Softly on my eye-lids laid.
And as I wake, sweet musick breath
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by som spirit to mortals good,
Or th’unseen Genius of the Wood.
  But let my due feet never fail,
To walk the studious Cloysters pale,
And love the high embowèd Roof,
With antick Pillars massy proof,
And storied Windows richly dight,
Casting a dimm religious light.
There let the pealing ***** blow,
To the full voic’d Quire below,
In Service high, and Anthems cleer,
As may with sweetnes, through mine ear,
Dissolve me into extasies,
And bring all Heav’n before mine eyes.
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peacefull hermitage,
The Hairy Gown and Mossy Cell,
Where I may sit and rightly spell
Of every Star that Heav’n doth shew,
And every Herb that sips the dew;
Till old experience do attain
To somthing like Prophetic strain.
These pleasures Melancholy give,
And I with thee will choose to live.
who knows
who rows
a boat
is in my throat
i think its a boat
il just use the best medication around
oo is makin dat sound???????????
o wait, me just high as de sky
my could fly to Janice meri's ouse
but me wont because me to lazy
relax, it aint halifax
its remax
max get out of here mon
and take your stupid wax candle
me dont like wax candles
dis be a big scandle?
no mon its just me, raldal
sorry randal
dis tin look like a guitar
How, to thy Sacred Memory, shall I bring
(Worthy thy Fame) a grateful Offering?
I, who by Toils of Sickness, am become
Almost as near as thou art to a Tomb?
While every soft, and every tender Strain
Is ruffl'd, and ill-natur'd grown with Pain.
But, at thy Name, my languisht Muse revives,
And a new Spark in the dull Ashes strives.
I hear thy tuneful Verse, thy Song Divine;
And am lnspir'd by every charming Line.
But, Oh! –––––––––
What Inspiration, at the second hand,
Can an Immortal Elegic Command?
Unless, Me Pious Offerings, mine should be
Made Sacred, being Consecrate to thee.
Eternal, as thy own Almighty Verse,
Should be those Trophies that adom thy Hearse.
The Thought Illustrious, and the Fancy Young;
The Wit Sublime, the Judgment Fine, and Strong;
Soft, as thy Notes to Sacharissa sung.
Whilst mine, like Transitory Flowers, decay,
That come to deck thy Tomb a short-liv'd Day.
Such Tributes are, like Tenures, only fit
To shew from whom we hold our Right to Wit.
Hafl, wondrous Bard, whose Heav'n-born Genius first
My Infant Muse, and Blooming Fancy Nurst.
With thy soft Food of Love I first began,
Then fed on nobler Panegyrick Strain,
Numbers Seraphic! and, at every View,
My Soul extended, and much larger grew:

Where e're I Read, new Raptures seiz'd my Blood;
Methought I heard the Language of a God.
Long did the untun'd World in Ignorance stray,
Producing nothing that was Great and Gay,
Till taught, by thee, the true Poetick way.
Rough were the Tracts before, Dull, and Obscure;
Nor Pleasure, nor Instruction could procure.
Their thoughtless Labour could no Passion move;
Sure, in that Age, the Poets knew not Love:
That Charming God, like Apparitions, then
Was only talk'd on, but ne're seen by Men:
Darkness was o're the Muses Land displaid,
And even the Chosen Tribe unguided straid.
Till, by thee rescu'd from th' Egyptian Night,
They now look up, and view the God of Light,
That taught them how to Love, and how to Write;
And to Enhance the Blessing which Heav'n lent,
When for our great Instructor thou wert sent.
Large was thy Life, but yet thy Glories more;
And, like the Sun, did still dispense thy Power,
Producing somthing wondrous every hour:
And, in thy Circulary Course, didst see
The very Life and Death of Poetry.
Thou saw'st the Generous Nine neglected lie,
None listning to their Heav'nly Harmony;
The World being grown to that low Ebb of Sense,
To disesteem the noblest Excellence;
And no Encouragement to Phophets shewn,
Who in past Ages got so great Renown.
Though Fortune Elevated thee above
Its scanty Gratitude, or fickle Love;
Yet, fallen with the World, untir'd by Age,
Scorning th'unthinking Crowd, thou quit'st the Stage.
Destre' Sep 2016
I read and reread
Again and a again
Each time finding something new
Each time wondering about somthing different
When I can't think
When I can't clear my head
When I'm bored
When I need inspiration
When I'm haveing a bad day
Or when I'm in an awkward social situation
I scroll down as far as it will load
Then I start to read
I could read almost anything you've written a thousand times and never get bored
I wish I could write them all down and make a book
I'd call it the The Golden One and take it with me where ever I go
There's somthing more comforting about pulling out a book instead of a phone
mark john junor Oct 2013
i fold my head into the
thin envelope of her arms
then she folds me into
the small space between her words
keeps me there for a time measured only
in the beads of sweat that gather on her
near perfect brow
she wipes me from memory and
deposits me on the pavement
the cold air shrinks me
the hot sun expands me
i cover her with evidence of wicked eyes
and impressions of nibble marks
i surf her skin with touches
that rival thouse that her nightmares
and the things her deepest desires are made of
her innocent demure hides her favorite things
jean nate scents spread like a casual laugh
i kiss her mind with the story vision thought dream of me and her
spending the night with some other honey pie
i relive myself on her essence
with the words that gave birth to her current personality

she changes faces
its just a metaphor
and she cant hide the fact she is ill at ease
with this nearness
this untamed and unpredictable
she needs on many levels to feel like she
is in control of somthing

i fold my head onto her lap
but the process has changed
she can no longer sustain the madness of this method
she can no longer pretend
that she can not cheapen herself for her own gain
for her own loss
that in the end she cannot deny
it is she who must choose the lesser of two evils
i would rescue her from this fate of her choosing
but i am beyond redemption in her eyes
and i am intent on this not becoming a fishing trip
casting out lines in hopes of
finding a future in the
destitute but romantic face of streetlife
or motel shuffle carpet baggers

after much wailing
at the little gain for much expense
and endless beating of the quality of life dead horse
we found common ground
which without a doubt will get some
banker trying to foreclose on at some point
but  for the moment its just the three of us
verses the world
armed with a rubber duck and a bucket of rice
((note: ok i swear im gonna take that **** rubber duck out on a rowboat, give it cement shoes and sink his yellow **** to the bottom of the atlantic...little ****** has been nothing but trouble since we left denver))
Kim McCarthy Mar 2013
Words spoken aloud doesn't constitute voice
Can't force that it's heard, to listens a choice
Whether screamed or whispered no volumes needed to hear
Simply amplifying each word won't obligate one to care

Voices carry a message words alone are too weak
Theres talking out loud then theres chosing to speak
Having something to offer must be desired
For one to deserve the attention required

Is it done to inspire or to satisfy pride
To speak or to listen all arefree to decide
Having freedom is great theres no better way
But it should only be practiced by those with somthing to say

Voices are vehicles with missions at hand
To expand some knowledge over the promise land
Driving this vehicle comes at a cost
To continue the journey no matter whats lost

Our greatest defense, never let down your gaurd
Sorting message & noise can prove to be hard
A message is only such as long as it remains the same
The rules still apply no matter the game
Since noise has its rights theres no option without it
So take all you hear with a reason to doubt it
Emilia Rose Jan 2015
Have you ever passes someone and uttered not a word
There is no hello, goodbye, not even a look in the eye
Sad doesn't describe what I feel when you'd walk pass by me
My world use to be filled with fun and glee, but not it's regret and pain that fills me
We cannot blame anyone but ourselves
We destroyed something peoples wished they had
And some people only get this once
Going from sleeping all day, and staying up all night
But now everything ended with some stupid fight
I know it's over and everything's changed, but some hearts just never mend.
Emerald Feb 2013
i  met a man who answer
"i dont know"
when watching rerun tapes
of his  love kissing under mistletoe
surrogate the times being drunk at home
as if he became a ghost
cause these days find us
when we track down truth
not the processed kind
capitalized behind a golden tooth
i mean the genuine taste of something real
Things untouched, kissed and sealed
oh in this world its too pure to find
one who holds such a beautiful mind
with schizophrenic intellect
words, colors and space combined
all would then been seen clearly
When i met
this man who answered
"i don't know"
He was suiting up for his daily show
staring at the screen
wishing it was real
pressing  play
"We meet again my needle  in a hey"
But as the tape rolls to an end
Reality never seems to bend
So instead of searching for somthing real
He waits till his love rewinds backwards on a  wheel.
mark john junor Jan 2014
these troubled thoughts
this collection of disquiets
like dry bones gathering dust
their lifeless forms encrusted with
the fine thin black ink
her diary of desperate longings
written on each bone like magic runes
like roadmaps to dark kingdoms

she keeps the bones
in a wooden box behind the concreate wall
with burning incense
to mask the smell of fear
unfounded in these the enlightened years
but illustrated neatly in comic book fashion
by her masked superhero natural appearances
just that little somthing dangerouse in the
steel glint of her grey eyes

these troubled thoughts
are loud in my mind
broadcast to all who are not too blind to see
like the garish sound of transistor radio
just off a station of cheap music
these dark feelings run like knives down my spine
the seep into my own bones
which are also handwritten chapters
of her diary of self deceptions and denials

i manufacture a vehicle of escapism
in the words i tap out on my kindle
but it rings hollow in the face
of her beautiful decay
of her own disquiet tears
unable to shake free of these dark feelings
i throw the dry bones in the sea
and listen as she demands that i drown the
remainder of my unkind words with them
we finally stand hand in hand
at the edge of the world
watching the dry bones sail
into the crisp dawn
like a sailboat making for spain
Destre' Jun 2015
I hurt all over, physically sick
Stuck with the haunting memory of his words
you can trust me, im here for you
I can still hear his voice so clear
So kind
So careing
I miss you babygurl
What once was comforting now only instills fear
How could he fake somthing like that?
How could he have lived with himself?
He was never real
Turning somthing thats supposed to be gental; Someone who trusted you with everything
Into a game

I wont be part of it.
Nazmi Mahamood Oct 2010
im late,
the guard is closing the school the gate.
i made it through finding my way to my class
religoues observation has started.

I'm standing without walking
i glance across the ground
see my proud school standing
string and proud

a small gust if wind
blowing across my face
at that moment
i felt somthing....something

inside me wanting to scream out
I'm a ZAHIRIAN and im **** proud of it
Last week, (9 oct 2010)
My school Zahira college and i'm a Zahirian Our vision of 2012
will come true my job will be done in this vision o/l batch 2012
Matt May 2015
World economies teetering on the edge
ISIS threats
Enemies armed with nuclear weapons

Fukishima radiation
Illegal immigration and Overpopulation

Terrorists cross the unguarded U.S. border
Passing throug a Texas range
Don't forget droughts, food scarcity and climate change

I figure it's likely
Somthing terrible is bound to happen
In this nation
Mahesh Hegde Sep 2013
Stairs were moving up and he was treading down,
Audience were clapping their hands with laughter for this old clown.
Eyes weary, smile his companion, his moustache and the beard were brown.
Humiliating bullets manyatimes fired at him, he would take it without a frown.

In his room went he and locked himself inside,
Sat on the floor and opened a book that was beside.
Some pics of shattered houses while some of people on a roller-coaster ride,
His face which was used for creating expressions comic, tragic and at sometimes pride,
Now was so expressionless like the beach at high tide.

His heart bore too much to take more in it,
But vague just another friend of his helped to take in bit by bit.
Passion of his used as a sample for experiments taken on a slit,
Happiness was like somthing which didnt arive even in discreet.
And the tests of life, still he undertook, with full grit.

So the book contained nothing but his family memories,
In those was living his soul where he loosened all his worries,
Remembering the days when his daughter in her tiny hands offered him some berries,
But then these memories so silently he burries,
And these surreal moments he drinks off with perries.

Closing the book, finally he got up filled with sustain,
Cause fate was decided, and now, didnt matter, even a prickle of pain,
Opened the **** he passed through that smoky corridor again,
Going to the people to be a clown for them all that wid him which remains,
To spread smiles and laughters on faces of people hiding his own pain..
Laiba Aug 2020
It started of as a joke
Like a game gone wrong
But when i heard her cry
I knew there was somthing
Terribly wrong
What do you say to a man who wants no part,
who knows a little about somthing
but finds somthing wrong with the initial assumption?

These men can never be kings
because they want too little
ask too little
and pray too little

they know the world of love,
but somthing, again is wrong
to these men love is a garage sale
behold a person with too much ****
and watch them pass it on

These men know
more than all others
that there is always more than love
more than feeling
more than ***
more than some fundamental oneness

they know they exist
and to exist

is more than enough to keep from pulling the trigger
Lone Wolf May 2014
People in my family, that don't know me real well
Tend to tell me I had a good childhood
And it's all because they don't know

They see the facts like
She went to Disney Land,
And California
And Mexico
Not to mention,
How her grandparents spoiled her

But I remember very little of my time like that
don't get me wrong, I'm not ungrateful
To my aunt and grandparents
It's just that I don't remember most of it

What I do remember of my childhood is
Getting my hair brushed by mom
And anytime I moved or said ow
she'd hit me with the brush

Or when I didn't hear her,
Before we knew I was half deaf,
she'd get so mad
And she'd punish me for ignoring her

That time I was helping her clean the yard
And the next thing I knew
she had me down on the ground
kicking me, for somthing
I don't even remember what for

I remember my 5th birthday,
Evryone brought me presents
And as I opened them,
she took them from me
And put them in the corner
Because I didn't deserve them

I remember walking in on your husband
Choking you
Your face was blue
And I turned around and walked back out
I had just turned four
And it wasn't even a cause for concern

I remember her parties
Late at night,
They were so loud I couldn't sleep
And I wasn't allowed to leave my room for anything
I'd be in there for hours,
No food or drink
I was afraid to come out and see
After that first time
And I saw you in that outfit
On that pole and
Those plates of white powder
The straws and needles
And all the smoke
And the bowl of colorful pills
I didn't know what it was for
But it scared me
And I never came out again

And I remember babysitting
I was only eight
I could barely talk
And couldn't really hear
But I took care of myself
And my sister and brother

I remember that boyfriend you had
When I was eleven
I remember his wandering hands
And how warm and sticky they were
And how much he liked to "help" me
When you were gone
And the razor blades that made me forget
And the new scars to cover the ones made by his chains

And I remember each and every bruise you've left
And all the mean words you've said
I remember all of it,
And you know what?
I wish I remembered Disney Land
Funny how memory works....
There wasn't much editing done on this one it's just kinda... Said how it was thought, I guess.
Kole J McNeil Sep 2020
My mask is one of happiness and warmth
that's what my mask is

But wait a mask is somthing you use to keep you safe from germs

My mask is somthing that hides pain
no scars on my face
no just the pain that lies behind my mask of lies and decite

I am Happy

Lies stop lying

My mask is one that hides sandness
my mask is not physical
My mask is a smile that hides the hurt in my eyes

My mask is one of caring
But what do you mean a mask of caring

No my mask is not one of fabric but of emotion
My mask is of silk woven with worry
It's a mask woven of silken hate
Thats my mask
Ruthie Dec 2010
where were all those dreams we had so many years ago
seasons change as does everything left inside we grow
slide on next to me I'm just a human being
I just need someone to ecko in my unknown future seeing

You say it's untrue the fact not theory he died for you
as unprepared you are for a disaster or suprise so you are
just as you will be when time comes to trim your lamp
in that moment all eyes will be open and truth uncovered

Then comes the stamp in your forehead and hand
From darkness driven to end what has been given
without blemish or spot they denied him
now they sit in the inferno and rot

Eat drink and be merry for tomorrow we die
little do they know the soul remains aglow
the spirit prevailing one way
the spirit prevailing another

Now is the time to understand and thrive
He is the purpose for all we feel that is good
never doubting the raw and absolute untainted truth
always being diligent to tell and remain

It is in deep sadness I will say all will not make it that fatefull day
demons devour lives turn sour what appeared  bliss before
now turned to vile so greatly impure '
we all our entitled to be what we may"

Now weaping and gnashing of teeth
satan and demons surround as a wreath
in deception and slay they now know they turned away
from somthing that could have saved them

Don't ever deny the end will arrive
maybe tomorrow so put away your sorrow
allow your heart to ripen let your savior in
you know it's true from every being within

I am writing to warn not discourage
never lose hope for we all fall short, have courage
don't be decieved study to show yourself approved
overcome and conquer we can win this
I have my armour do you?

Saint Ruth~

Read more:
Saint Ruth
Timbuctu Oct 2019
having to little typing words out
it's all you've got left now, dears

shifting letters down, in quick
  to spaces to  click in to,
to   adjust I
  think to  in this attempt,
i think  to

just, get out the pain
stretch in unblinking
sudden staring space with
barely gasping
pupils wholly

urging in such exercise of
linking spitting veins the
pain out  
      just on top, of my heart,
my ache, fat and proud,
elephant feet and rhinoceros teeth
out; and
into my left arm and out and into

what; some pitying object
some breath of smoke clinging at
dust motes in such a way
as to arch itself in slanted
upward eyebrows,

to circle around, cat like, the
tail-end of some
bitter story your mother once wrote,
, beer stenched on
sticking bars

more battered music tinkling
licked vinegar, in flicks of dry
tongue;  licking salt
on scars, in slanted lines,

And folded in her 70s coat
Smoking sadly, singing her
flying nun, camus, detective
collor, lackluss in grey pouting
in pale lips;
Wistful at her failing wish
we see falling from her skin,
in bright-edged ashes:

unfailing romantic if she could
only imagine it was
snow ; but

she lights the finish again,
as if there's somthing left
strikes the back of
a Juke box swishing neon against
the back of her ***

leaning, boogy, jumping kitsch
in which her temprement relents
against;; and the fact

That she never was always  never a teenager
And will never be again  
and could be so serious without ever meaning
nothing    so here, or laughing

I open up her future in
a window behind her back;
and paint a daughter's imagination
in the cracks of

a stucco frame,
and it wills itself into the tiniest bees
buzzing dialogue and *** and adventure and queens
dancing on shivering arcs
on gossamer leaves;

and with gossamer words come
spiderweb courage; and
the force to walk out from the
pub, and out and farther out, and

over bridges and hopscotching trolls,
and through the desert, clipping roses with
her nail;
and across sun drenched plains, and
we find her sun-skinned loves
into, fast-shut white blinds and
chipped moasaic flower pots;

in spanish air kicking dress in red and
fingered frills;
flashing up in dazzling mirror-move
of kicking glittering cement in
heels beating rythm in city streets

i give her all she never had, i stretch us out, through
country, loving, code, and time;

and still this ache, though where'd it go
my throat and the back of my chest

a stain, a corner of
the sticking dust of a 70s pub,
no honey, no bees, no flowerpots,
time travel, or poetry can clean.
MsAmendable May 2016
As I age, the world unseen
Comes to light,
And the way I'd been
With wonder, cease
For now I know reality;

Curious, how time does fade
Naïve questions with a wave
Of insight, yes, and somthing more,
Of jadedness, we watch the score
But not the game, the point
is not the point...

Questions fade in custom-made
Tiny starbucks coffee cups;
A tired dog won't think like pups
For they have seen the world
Laiba Sep 2019
This may be hard to hear and feels like i am stating a streotype comment
But for all those surviors of ****** abuse
I just want to let you know your not alone
I know everyday is a sturggle to get out of bed
Constent worrying and pain
And the questions that wont let go
You just want to end it all
You think its your fault and even if the world was telling you its not your sitting there thinking Oh my god please just shut up
I understand that but just know its okay not to be okay
And i know you feel ***** and you want to hurt yourself,blame yourself
And even if i tell you dont do it your letting the monster win
It makes no difference
So what i am going to say is hold on tight i know the journey is painful
But once you reach it will be raimbows
The nightmares the flashbacks  i know its painful
I know it hurts more then anything
But i promise you that as long as your safe
No hands will ever touch you again
I know its hard and cry all you want
But once your finshed be sure to know that you can do it again whenever you want
Your not a victim you Are a survivor

But the truth is i will never know your pain
Nobody can ever guess what you might me going through
All you know is what your going through
But empathy is somthing that only works to an extent....
This is what i go through...
Anthony Perry Oct 2016
How many pages til the next chapter in this story of the ages as abominations run amok through the paragraphs stuck in between punctuations like veal in cages.

Somthing twisted is connected like the braided naval vein feeding me from a space I don't try to give a name.

Lines flowing through my system powered by the frame of an electric main keeping me in a place sparking at the touch of anything mundane.

Seeing is believing when it's the words your conceiving, birthing of a tale designed to keep you feeling, aspects of the sinister to contrast the healing, rhyming is easy but it's the meaning of the whole that resonates as an understanding.

Life is a simple story with a complex veiw, you can become a living pariah or a hero who dies and its nothing new.

My poems are of a single thought held up on the back of a personal Atlas separating world's of a diffrent hue.

— The End —