Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Liz Apr 2014
The burning flowers underline the sunset and 
Dash before the fire (k)night catches them.
Ripe berries cheaply
but hopefully their vitality won't burst the pulp pulsating

Crumbling flowers
crumb the floor
And Prisms of catching silver refract rose quartz and petal
and crimson

Bejewelled in Scarlet,
the air,
as the (k)night approaches, grows colder,
Unsure of whether he will bring
solace or strife.

In his chariot
he flies faster than the bees which buzzed around the fruit flutes
in the morning and among the trumpeting bluebells.

Stars fleck the (k)night
like freckles
and the milky ways resins stain his spouting steams lovely. 

The (k)nights kind onyx reaches his crescendo and the floating moon danced drowsily through the cloud's spiralled tendrils

Which diminish as dawn
so their Tentilcles
droop to crinkled tissue paper sheathed in pink.

And so the (k)night
rides on into
The frivolous sunrise.
The lowing, glossy calves
in sage beside the ***** fields
cast a beloved ambience 

As though
we are safe
in the knowledge
that the sky will remain
topaz and the leaves
forever emerald.
Adam Latham Sep 2014
The twilight of the day draws near,
The blazing sun is laid to rest,
And dimming skies let stars appear
That twinkle in the bloodstained west.

The once warm air turns cold and still,
Long drawn out shadows gently fade,
While birdsong that before was shrill
Falls silent in a soft cascade.

The rooftops change from red to black,
So too the rising spiralled wisps
Of smoke churned up from chimney stacks
And stoves of wood burnt cinder crisp.

And everywhere nights velvet brush
Begins to daub the landscape whole,
Descending with a quiet hush
That calms the nerves and soothes the soul.

Until the end when all too soon
The final vestiges of day
Are bade farewell by the new moon
Who cannot help but smile away.
tranquil Nov 2013
once upon a stolen time
skies swore love to the earth
in a sight where all flew past
the splendor of a sailing romance

a passion so pristine

ever gentle as morning dew
which surrenders to the first rays
of a yawning sun toddling into
the laziest hour of day's fabric

when hope glittered as stars

and as formless light of souls relieved to be
strewn into the lap of merciful
enchantress content with her creation
whose world shone inspired on its own

an era where people breathed felicity

where foamy seas bent into a restless
swell of dreamy clouds
and smiling rainbows melted into perfume
drops of silver rain

when a grand pearl was born

the child of deepest seas
a gleaming myth so pure and unreal
born in nethers of the grand ocean
a spheric orb of life itself

whom the heavens embraced

as a savior of those lost within
the fading embers of abstraction
frolicking amidst solemn tranquil stars
shiny bright on the celestial parapet

the mortals named her moon

and furnished their barren lives with
colorless spread of her golden hair
traced along the milky laugh of joy
kissing tender skins of lovers asleep

but pinched upon by shores of neglect

lay the boiling heart of a forgotten god
leaning into the envious whispers of venomous deceit
sprung out of flaming ego of the great sun
overpowered by hate for his adversary

and the grand ocean who birthed her

so he raged upon like a nebulous explosion
drying up colossal seas and rivulets alike
while mortals bore the brunt of a deity
beneath all fiery blunders of infernal damnation

they all gazed in horror

to what became of once cerulean infinite ocean
now a volatile geyser of bloodied soup
a serene cradle of life incinerated by jealousy
amidst the dying cries of mercy

laid upon the ears of great mother

who rushed to her frightened children like
an avalanche of uplifting spells
as solace from the obliviating torrents of heat
above a crumbling earth

veiled in her merciful majesty

she called upon a parliament of beasts and men
starry denizens of the shivery black sky
ghostly natives of burning forests
restless roses of ashen hearts

as so were they all summoned

"for all ye did defile
with strength i lend to thee
reduce to shadow dust
spread thy cruelty
dispel a coat of fire
upon my hallowed sea
betray the rule of stars
but so mercilessly

for 'gainst the eye of war
ye sinned with hateful fright
and shall be doomed to hell
till life's last surmise
but if there be some more
ye need to speak awhile
speak aloud thee must
for this be thy time"

and so the mighty sun bared his heart

"for if i had a choice
sin i shall again
to breathe a demon's soul
engrossed with deathly pain

as when i saw her first
the light of purest love
allure of million songs
beaming anthems of

poetry set in sight
in fountains of her sleep
amid the faintest wish
of day we two shall meet

i ran and ran across
the length of starlit skies
in search of moon again
her burnished sheeny smile

only to learn the sea
would mask her in the day
in frigid soundless depths
until i fade away

spiralled across the space
i burnt to nothingness
a billion years in wait
perished to longingness

for choice was what i had
i chose to hate the world
one that does have no heart
one that does know no love

for if i had a choice
sin i shall again
just as the ocean sinned
and bring my soul this pain"

seeking out for the shattered cascades of his mind

the great mother did reach to the floundering soul
of a sun craving for one more sight of his beloved
all so distant as a tale of treasures lost
to the perpetual labyrinth of time

"of what shall thus be named
the blush of myriad glows
beneath the noble day
before the nights of pure

let there be a spell
where sun may see the moon
chisel his heart through clouds
scroll upon his tune

a time where them two shall
be one as dew and morn
ripple across as love
through dusky silhouettes long"

sweet scents of eager hope resurfaced

followed by the serene lush of a green symphony once more
while the sun bent down to touch the topaz glint of water
his beloved emerged riding upon whistling winds from east
once more piercing the restless swell of dreamy clouds

and just as day sank below a border of horizon
two lovers soared into the dreamy sight of each other
for hues of their daring glances tinge every twilight
again with a dream to have their love fulfilled

every day until the end of time.
The trellis of oak trees winked,
captured my soul in a spinney,
chalked whispers of free promises
breathy like a silken shawl trailing

Those wise men of old, withered
skin of bark, tall and strong, waving
their introduction. They bowed to me
in free form, in humble escapism.

Sun had stroked their warm palms,
fed them sweet sap. To my left a
stray leaf, rested amid invisibility,
caught the air train, and spiralled free.

Twizzled to the green painted rug
basking under my cotton covered feet.
Reaching out, it blew away,
I chased the freedom fields.

The brook teased it and set
sail under the woody bridge,
green from seasonal tears.
Lost sight as it spun the space

between us. The grass sprung
its beginnings in full Spring, tall in parts,
summer not yet wrapped and
ready to visit us, much less

invited to the summer ball
where shadows are ten a penny,
and sunshine bought on every
street corner.  I am among spring

devoured in daffodil eiderdowns,
elbowing out the crocus, snowdrop
chandeliers. I seagull my way,
swaying in step with willow, blossoming

surprising myself, how I let go of
school day shivers, tinkering my brain
into gear for terms talking tightness,
cramming commas, fat full stops.
Gazing through the tallest
green nettles

I realized they do
not bite me

Cause it was not the day
for stings and aching

Cause i had the black
mountain boots
and a heart
on my
sport gown

My hands reached
the Heavens
the white yello

Elder's Abundance

Where Scented Blossoms
Coloured my skin

And exposed my life lines

The coolest tangerine

I sat on the black soil
squished young grasses
and found the

My palm was a giant Plato
For it's snailish leg

On the left one
he was without weight
portruding forth
to his destination

Is it possible that
his house was
3,5 mm
Isn't it cute
that when streched
was 7 mm
at lenght

Visible horns
like 1 mm
and half of it

The upper
The downward

What are you looking at
My lines or me

If he climbs from my
left palm on the right one
It's ment to be

I'll visit the seaside

Fibbonacci House Spiralled
Inner layers with colours
outer still
and translucent

Is it possible
this tiny snail
thinks about me

It didn't work
It remained
on my heart's side

Then I moved this
cutest creature
on my right palm

Little little snail
you're not a match
to squeeze

From the right to the left
I thought to myself
he is she
i don't know
snail's so young
for sure it doesn't seek another snail

To cherrish and love

Climbed on my left thumb
Beautiful in motion
As a revolution
For better days

It is my heart's side
My vision became
Waffed all around on the deepest blue
White and puffy



Emerged out of


Had landed on a spider web
on the Verge
of Enchanted Forest
Where grave monument resides

was in the air
the invisible wings fluttered

My sharp vision
focused on
another three

They don't need los zapatos
They are not obsessed as
Imelda was

And i wasn't thinking
about that at all

This words are for you:
thank you for the music
but the dragonflies
buterflies I love

They were near my
one caressed among
tall grasses
one butterfly

not in oslo

Fibbonnaci Friend
who gave me this
Sharp vision

To see the magic
revealing all
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic Flame
Pauline Morris Mar 2017
But alas there was that fateful date
She spiralled down into the hands of fate
Memories emerged from rusty iron doors
Of long forgotten ****** wars
From the horrific deeds both seen and did
She desperately wanted safely hid

So determined to relinquish her soul
Balancing on the edge of a massive Black Hole

Oh, how she wanted to let it all go
Swim in the Styx steady flow
Voices silently scream and thump
"Just jump"
Quickly darting thoughts, makes emotions scurry
A savage combatant, now battle worn and worried

This painful life seemed insignificant
No use in wishing things where different

In that final, fateful hour
Under the weight of anguish cowered
A hand reached out and let her know He'd hold tight and not let go
He also lived in that darkened zone
But together they'd never be alone
They constantly leaned on each other
From the emotional whirl, they where each other's buffer

Friendship deeper than can be imagined
Epic enough to be a poetic legend
Their very essence, bonding soul to soul
Love so pure, like the first winter's snow

But alas there was that fateful date
He spiralled down into the hands of fate
Again alone with memories
Echos of what use to be

It's a spiritual knowing
That a love so glowing
Persist only within a true soul-friend
It's a love so strong, it can not end
For when their next lifetime begins
They will find each other, yet again

©Pauline Russell
NuBlaccSoul May 2016
'The Insatiable Lust'

Buried in the depths of my heart
is a space that has no source of containment
from all I ever expose it to.

From the heartaches that drive you to immunity;
To the painkillers that come in human form;
To the stolen kisses that spiralled beyond control;
To hellos that still hang on a goodbye;
To falling into the trap of lust...

Lust is to your mind,
What the heart is to it's beat.
Constantly pumping to feast it's thirst for life,
That desire to get more out of it,
That reminder that...
You are still on a quest for more.

Lust is to life,
What the air is to trees.
One whiff of it,
And there's no doubt you're gonna wanna keep taking in more of it.

Lust is to your body,
What an ****** is to genitalia.
A moment of pleasure,
Can easily transform into a moment too many.
..stolen moments;
...impulsive kisses;
...heavy breaths;
...gentle thrusts;
...tender grasps;

Prancing in that **** lil dress,
Back of the heels clicking together...
Glancing as I step up to you,
Got that song you love
Playing in the background
Music for amusement
Beat pounding in each pelvis
Frustration turned to torment.
Grinding up against you,
Your hands caressing uncontrollably..
Calm it down a lil boo...
There's still a lot to get through.
Like tender nibbles on your lips,
Gentle kisses on my neck,
Little spankings on my **** cheeks,
Grabbing tightly on those thunder thighs....
Lift me up with all your might,
Heavy breathes,
Hot sweat down spines,
Tightened grip,
Nails sink in your back
Depicting coitus tention.
Inked in ceratin
As I sink deep past ur melanin.
Lust dipped in passion
Carving in salacious affliction
Toss me on the bed,
Rip my underwear down to shreds
Push you back to the floor,
Let me slowly strip tease off what's left...
I on you, then you on me,
Then I flip it.
My shoulders kissing these floor boards
And yours the ceiling.
My arms pinned in
Fingers locked,
Make me do the splits mid-air,
Run fingers along lines and spaces leading to
places between my legs.
Quivering thighs met by moist lips and tongue
And have my legs wrapped around your body
Bodies tightly clenched up against each other,
Sweat oozing through our pores...
Flipping from one angle to another,
One position to the next,
From the lounge,
To the bedroom,
Down til you feast off me in the kitchen....
Heart's pulsating,
Temperature's rising,
Legs twitching,
Hands barely able to grasp onto anything....
Calm it down a lil boo,
Let's catch our breath
And step back into reality...
Where this is all but a mere inception
Of what is still yet to come...

a poem by IWishIKnewWho™
(C)2016. IWishIKnewWho™. Intellectual property. All rights reserved. // THIRST DAY poetry. Wavvy. Another experimental piece but this is not my writing. Posting on behalf of a friend.
Raymond Walker Apr 2012
From the alleys and streets, from the door steps and heaths, from the meadows and farmlands,
A mist rises, and forms, from the rivers and rills, valleys and hills, from the fields and fissures
It swirls and turns in the night air, forming and fragmenting, failing and fermenting, till it yields.
A figure, blessed and bare, in the late night air, steps into the moonlight, baleful and brazen in its
Nakedness and knowledge, the pall of the shining moon, drips, Grey and silver from his eyes
Youth drips from his thighs, vigour from his lips and fingertips, crimson is his mouth  and *****.
Lions race across his skin as clouds scud across the moon, feral and wild this child of the moon.
Wild and *****, his face shadowed with growth, excited with his youth and desire. On fire.
Panicked by distaste, his own waste and needs, brewed in a mighty beer of disgust, a sire
Of demons, with packaged might, swooping and rearing, devilish and dervish, spiralled, a pyre.
For the noonday sun, wishing hope on everyone yet giving them night and darkness and doom.
Holds my hand and holds it tightly, grapples with me daily and nightly, even in my own room
Where hope takes hold as quick as fear or death or charity, spilling, humors, ethers, exhume
Nothing but a buried evil that has come to see the light. A paltry being, exhumed, of the night

Whilst over all the night comes creeping
Then I go out a’ stealing,
O’er tombstones and moss, where the dead lie sleeping,
Passing the fungi , sarcophagi, and the smell of weeping
Be it from crypt or hall or farmhouse steading.
collecting the shades of the bodies they’re shedding

Through sunlight’s bright blast
Or twilight’s last gleaming
They will be a sowing
And I’ll be a reaping
Through the strongest gale
Or mornings glittering hail
They will be a sowing
And I’ll be a reaping.

Whilst the morn sunlight, over hills comes creeping,
There in the shadows, I’ll be steeling,
Darkening daffodils, turning bluebells black and foxglove steeping
Poison filled and passing the narcissi, and the tears of the leaving.
It may be birth or anniversary or wedding.
I’ll be collecting the souls they are shedding.

Through all the breaths that you will still be breathing
And all those breaths that have passed
And all those breaths still to come you are dreaming
One day you shall take your last.
And that’s where I’ll be stealing

Through sunlight’s bright blast
Or twilight’s last gleaming
They will be a sowing
And I’ll be a reaping
Through the strongest gale
Or mornings glittering hail
They will be a sowing
And I’ll be a reaping.

A ****** of crows blackens the noonday sky,
Called from their nests and eyries
And so many ships have gone by, black masted and steering
Into the wind, Sails tattered and the keel close to shearing
I stand on the nest and watch you weeping
Till the bodies fall into the deepening sea and there lie sleeping
And that’s where I’ll be stealing.

I smiled and laughed
Till the black mast
Fell below the sea
I whimpered and moaned
With those overthrown
Till they lay with me

And I took my place once more at the forefront of man’s destiny.

I crept and waddled and watched and bustled my way to the front of the crew.
I stood behind some and fell behind few; I had come here to see.
I pushed and shoved and elbowed my way to the front, shuffled over and tried to find my pew
I sat with my heart in my mouth, beating doubly in my chest and wondered were the culprit I?

It seemed I had sat in the stalls or in the balcony, way out in front
But it seems I had not sat at all just fell into the orchestras’ well.
But I remembered that I had sat, adjusted my clothes, my underwear, my hat.
As a man should do, are we not gentlemen and so I took tea and sat.

Paying court; To the girl with the blue eyes and the thin lipped smile, the girl that knew.
As most girls do, the thoughts of men, or think that they do. And I so I tried to find her,  
But it seems I had known a Girl with no thought of love, no turtle dove, cuddled
Close, no heavenly host, called to her, but she loved as love must befuddled
Drew her breath deeply but not freely, Took air, perspiring, muddled
Thoughts spinning in her head, amazed, this pale eyed temptress, The girl that knew.
As most girls do, emotions that drift, or think they do. And so found herself alone,
And weeping, a girl that did not know that they could love found that they could.
She murmured words of love and shook sand from her pelt, howled to the moon.
She stood tall on her haunches, praying , baying, to the moon goddess, one of hers.
Baleful eyes pale and moonstruck, seemed star struck with love  a mother with her curs.

Not the focus of her attention, her pale imitation, a pale shape creeps from the crepuscular woods
He slinks into the shadows of the night paying court to this matron, with his smell warmth and lust
She stalls and smells the night air
Little of care, for all stalks the night air
She sidles and smells the night air
Nothing there, In the dark and silent dream that is the night air.
She bridles and hush’s as the night drips onto her
She has cares; for children that whisper in their sleep on the night air.
Bovine, equine, feline and canine and warm fur
A sleep comes upon them all, a pale imitation of life, and a pale shadow creeps into the light.
And smothers the light of day languishing in his power and majesty sending chills unto the living
He waits in the darkness and shadows.

A child mutters unknown words and the time has come to die
Utters words of fortune and Questions your reasons why.

My dear, my love, child, why do you cry?

I shook myself awake
From my bed of dreams
And warmth
I pulled the duvet over
Took to my feet and felt
The chill

And so I stood, took my bow,  and then knew everything, everything about what I was witnessing,
She looked at him and he looked at she, both knew nothing of how its going to be.
I walked downwards, right down the stairs And I saw everything even the killing thing
He slapped her face and she bloodied drew the knife for all of us to see.
A joyous muse, my heart sang,  witnessing the killing, witnessing the killing and I knew everything.
He looked up at her, she down at him, she was so lucky that she had set him free.
I watched with glee for all I could see, to jail the police said as I sat, as I sat listening.

I heard your excuse I hear your plea, please madam judge don’t let that happen to me
She stood in the dock and sat on the chair,  and told everything, the things I’d been witnessing,
Told how she had murdered he, in a fit of rage it was not her fault she should be set free.
Not the judge, not the jury, but I knew everything and shed knowledge of my fury.

I remember the blade, I remember the fury. I now have to thank the jury.
A just verdict, a wrong righted,  a sacred trust bighted.  And just penury.

These children are mine sayeth the lady
Though the money I earn is a little shady
I look after them through the day
And at night none can say.
Little darlings,
Wont come to no harm, I keep them apart,
Little darlings, are always in my heart.
Sleeping and dreaming and held apart,
They’re just kids and held in my heart.  

Through sunlight’s bright blast
Or twilights last gleaming
They will be a sowing
And I’ll be a reaping
Through the strongest gale
Or mornings glittering hail
They will be a sowing
And I’ll be a reaping.

I have heard your thoughts ideas and whims
I have heard your excuses , you hacked off a limb,
Because he was bad, she was a devil, and I have never heard so much drivel.
She was a monster, he was a slave, you never thought of the love that they gave.
I saw you had it hard and it must have been so bad
It was trouble, never ever had you been so sad
She was a *****, with an eternal itch, a witch that was not worth forgiving.
She was a dragon, he was a monster,  it was no longer a life worth living
She pulled me down, he dragged me down into a cesspit of hope.
And off they loped into the night.

Publicly he seemed alright, not the ***** that he really was. She was so cool en vogue, en vie,
She pulled the love from this heart like a harvester, reaping all that he could sow, all that she was due.
She meditates on her  betrayal and justifies it to herself and thinks so few, so very soulless few
Would not, and she is more, so very much more and then lifts the knife and delivers his due.
In the early hue of evenings last breath, he drew his and she smiled, just his due.

Sorry tales; I know
Tales no one should know
Tales that diffidently show
The differences, the shocks
All the stops and blocks
That love mocks
In its immortal way
Tarnished and bloodied
It soldiers on, unhurried.

I looked for the heartbroken, the tarnished, the burned; and found them all
For there were so many. Loves that went good and bad; those that hurt  and those that fall
I looked for the unforgiving and hopeless and found them all, some happy in their own way,
The traitors of love I looked also for and found hopeless and alone, shriven but hearty in their own way.
I looked to the martyrs of love, those that have loved deeply and have lost,  for many do

And I was one that did. I knew love as pure as a mountain stream,
Unsullied, clean and precious, but no love is as true as the perfect love
No thing is just as wondrous and perfect as it may  perfectly seem,
Chaste, virginal, and all just yours, lest it be a gift from angels above.

And I loped off into the night
Full of sweat and blood,
Flushed with heaven above
And hell below
Both knew my hollow soul

And through sunlight’s bright blast trampling daemons I came, shamed and hollow
Risen from this earth, cursed to death, in twilights last gleaming, brazen but sullied
The seeds of doom are sown  by such as I  and they were sown deep and fertilised with blood
And reaped by those that know,  reaped by hands that touch, lips that kiss and know,
hunger and want, lust and lie, eyes that darken and hooded, draw lust from liars,
Build from truth funeral pyres,  and fires for the ****** and yet I remain and sullied
Smirk with each passing glance or circumstance at the great and good, the unwashed
The hooded and deep, the shallow and callow, the wanton and unwanted, the sane
And simple, the masterful and master less, musical and malleable, the strange and straight.

These I trampled under heel with little feeling or thought
The form I took was human, the place I came from; dread
I looked and watched and took note, I spoke and listened
Pay’ed heed,  Culpable and crazed, yet my form remained,
this spectre.
Dying now.
Paid heed.
A rather long poem and the first I have added being a new member. I hope you like it.
Marshal Gebbie Nov 2014
Everybody in Russia loves Vladimir Putin.
In the years since he muscled his way to the top of the tree, he has established himself as the Champion of all Russia!

In the degradation following the collapse of the USSR, national pride in Russia spiralled down to an all-time low, there was little to be proud of. The satellite nations fled to independence abandoning the Rodina,  Agricultural and industrial production fell dramatically, law and order diminished dangerously. The economy shrank and the order of success in business depended largely on connection with Government and/or the Mafia. The Oligarchs became monstrously rich, the average Ivan monstrously poor. Life savings were rendered worthless overnight by the plummet of the value of the rouble. Russian society polarised from the ecstatically happy, filthy rich to the chronically unhappy, beggared poor.

Russian leadership staggered from Gorbechev’s democratisation through Yeltsin’s alcoholism to Andropov’s sudden death…. enter the fray Vladimir Putin.

Putin tightened the reins.
He organised regular payment of wages and salaries to the movers and shakers, the police and the military.
He changed the rules of doing business within the nation and made investment opportunities within Russia available to outside interests.
He took charge and commandeered discipline within the ranks of central Government.
He set about correctional treatment for the terrorists/freedom fighters in the Chechen Republic and elsewhere.
He raised the expectations of the common man and gave the people an element of promise for Russia’s tomorrow.
He invaded and took back the Crimea as legitimate Russian sovereignty.
He garnered the roaring support of the six million ethnic Russians domiciled in the Eastern region of the Ukraine.

Putin now stands, bare chested, astride Russia. He faces a hostile but cowed West with pale, blazing eyes and a ******* bulge in his trousers.
He is widely idolised by Russian women and admired by Russian men. He is their champion; he is believed to be their key to the future.
His nation is currently under severe trade embargo and economic sanction by Europe and the West which is hurting the strained economy right across the board.
The declining price of oil is adversely affecting Siberian oil profits and making further shale oil exploration uneconomic.
He enjoys hugely profitable Siberian natural gas pipeline sales to the Southern neighbour, China, but they watch the unfolding political landscape with careful, calculating tiger eyes.
Putin is regarded by Europe and the West as an unpredictable, serious threat who should not be unduly provoked.
Undeniably, the West, in their sour lipped manner, would be happy to see him and his Russian bear, fade quietly and permanently into the obscurity of the frozen wilds of the far Siberian tundra.

But if Vladimir Putin plays his cards well, he could actually bring the Rodina all of the benefits, glory and rewards that it seeks.
However, should he overplay his hand here, he may well crash and burn….and in doing so, could bring Russia’s dreams and aspirations crashing down with him.

15 November 2014
Marshal Gebbie Oct 2013
The cordons of existence are constricting
For the keepers of the dream have let us down,
Who will buy tomorrow if performances are hollow
Causing all the global spectators to frown?

American has been the silk pyjamas
Since ’45 they’ve lead the world’s display
In health and wealth and brandishing the muscle
But in recent times it seems they’ve seen their day.

For since Clinton’s time the National debt has spiralled
They’ve departed brushfire wars in disarray,
Default now looms obscene with disharmony supreme
With Congressional leaders ranting in the fray.

The fiasco of a Government held to ransom
By a faction of extremist’s from the right,
Whilst the greenback in decline won’t change water into wine
The dire threat of fiscal chaos causes fright.

So global confidence is fading in the dollar
And the watchers shake their heads in blank despair,
For the willingness to follow is now a bitter pill to swallow
When the USA’s rock steadiness aint’ there.

So, what’s around the corner for tomorrow?
What aspirants are waiting in the wings?
With a fading USA perhaps it’s China’s turn to play
Though that’s going to mean adjustments made to things.

Of course we’re venturing into territory’s unchartered
And the crystal ball consulted, isn’t clear
But one thing I can assure, if this is what we must endure,
Is that our tomorrows will be something, now, to fear.*

Auckland N.Z.
19 October 2013
Rangzeb Hussain Aug 2010
Madness round about us and no one knows,
Memories of ember fired trust,
Watch them, these entombed brains,
Piano sonata, violin concerto, torn notes,
Who are the ******, them or us?

Madness, insanity, absurdity, irrationality,
Craziness, dementia, stupidity, psychosis,
Senility, fanatical, deranged, mental,
Foolishness, hysterical, delusional, frenzied,
Psychotic, maniacal, lunacy, neurosis, disordered,
Take these notes and from them weave
A hymn to chaos.

And so here it begins...

Bee bar locked up honey sting hive,
For them that have wept grains of sand warm yet wet,
In that dark distant horizon mountain bark,
Onion quake cuts splash serrated blade,
Insanity uncorked frothy so seeps humanity.

Orphan sky spits pregnant daggers drip,
Wing plucked harpies never will sing,
Dead sailors salted lie in silken mermaid beds,
Schooners sail the scattered chase round the horned tail,
Skulls bubble air sockets freed from cloven trouble.

Roads webbed spiralled butterfly miles of bottled lies,
Venom harvested acres baked into medicine,
Undone years plunged inside veins popped into mouths,
I loved you know,
No, no, you did not know for all eternity.

Hope filed cabinet all lost my ghostly dancer,
Rooms silver sunned windows seared,
Playground memories brim on the haze,
Smoke fogged pipes puffed clouds,
Asleep amongst trees over green glass grass blades frost.

Hold fingers to hands strange,
Notes ring around maze tower of desires,
Low sands but tides rise and torrents break or fall,
Alone we enter same goes exit,
Midnight clowns ****** into dreamscapes.

Creased rage silver ironed steam brains,
Unfurl flags red and painted war pain,
Impotent artful eye with sedated lust,
Boil drum not loud remember to listen,
Say less, speak more, silence best of all.

Galleons crawl upon the divided cloud docks,
Look there, point to starboard land ahoy,
Deep bosomed tear slaked shore,
Sense mixed universe reduced to a tick-tock,
Never shall it stand, withered time no glance past.

Adios, fare thee well, goodbye, auf wiedersehen,
Tongues weep, eyes talk, observe tender songs silence,
Contradiction philosophises perplexing paradoxes pure,
Marbles, one and all, drown in the air,
Narrow, so narrow are those who judge all.

Sin to fear and all is terror called,
Wanton doves warble tunes broken,
Afraid I was, too wrapped in fear coiled I,
To know fright and bride forsake,
Never were holes deeper dug.

Reason not the rhythm nor rhyme,
Pandora, oh Pandora, what hast thou done?
Stare upon thy casket coffin spread-eagled,
Fire stealer Prometheus universal milk burns,
Gorgon Medusa snake dancer charmer seducer.

Silent bones drum against skin, wake up fool!
White winged dove blood red beak suite,
Humbled blood sore butchered vows vain,
Then as now silent partner is all,
Meant so much more you were.

Rapier, pistol, kiss and hold, to my temple place,
Slash, bang, smack and rake, let matter escape,
What uncharted continents we all are,
Walls rise hand bricked high over hill and sky,
Dilated screams of the civil dead no wall can cage.

Tears glitter sky to earth,
Seeding jewels amongst dung natural,
Fountains colour horizon wide,
Sanity transfigured stitched, haggled,
Eternal slaughter diamond edged sold.

Torquemada burrows rib cracked skin blood,
Skeleton tomb dust for leprosy romance,
Wail now poor Quasimodo tongue-tied,
No one to keep company but rat bones,
Unborn, forgotten, locked and barred.

Hush there! Let there be deafening silence,
Lie, cuddle snuggle, caress dark death,
There, still now, wipe away sleep,
Space time galaxies born in minds beyond measure,
Planets die, titans die, you and me we all certify.

Madness here! She creeps into bed mine,
Yours too! Oh, how richly embraced we,
Paris Town cellars breed inmates,
Lice tea stirred drunk and promises sung,
Escape none, trapped all, sky above and death underfoot.

This asylum madness no wall can hold,
Floats into night skies and into ears young,
Oh no, goodness no, you cannot out keep it in,
Destroy the house of madness you cannot,
Dost thou fear thyself knave? ‘tis merely a jest most musical,
All the chords sprinkled peppered and cast asunder.*

©Rangzeb Hussain
Marshal Gebbie May 2014
My best friend and lover.
Protector of my lies
…You rescued me
And ****** me to my fate.

Spiralled the dopamine to brilliance
In my mind.
To spangled halls of light,
Reflective light, and calm.
A golden calm
Of energised, invincible intensity……

Addiction is thy name.
Compulsion is thy talent

Up, up the trammelled pathway
From the innocence of a ****
To the chaotic expense of ****,
Then to the dreamy, smoked Opiates,
And the scars of the needles
And magic of Coke & big H ?

And ultimately…
It’s all not enough!
The hollow inadequacy of it all
When finally…..
Nothing achieves flight.
Nothing attains the heights.
Nothing satisfies
Like it used to…..
No amount of money
Buys satisfaction!

Into the Black Hole.

Down, down the trammelled pathway
And the body is wasted, thin
And the mind in misery,
And broke, utterly penniless,
Exhausted and spent,
Estranged and abandoned,
Alone, so alone.

Down the trammelled pathway
To the inevitable retreat
Into failure’s squalid,
numbing, bitter

May 31 2014
From the outside looking in.
JC May 2013
She saw him in the hall
He glanced at her
She blushed and walked away

They thought nothing of it

She sat alone in class
He asked to sit next to her
She said 'yes'

He joked
She laughed
He complimented her
She smiled
The bell rang
He gave her his number
She grinned and left.

She texted him
He replied
They talked all night

He saw her the next day
He asked her on a date
She said 'yes'.

They went to a restaurant
They chatted
He messed about
She giggled
He told her she was beautiful
She blushed and thanked him
He walked her home
She smiled all the way

He kissed her goodbye

They talked for days
He fell for her
She fell for him
He asked her to be his girlfriend
She said 'yes'

He spent all his time with her
She felt like the luckiest ******* earth
He put his arm around her with pride

He met her family
They loved him
She met his
They loved her

Things started to get serious

He said 'I love you'
She said it back

They were happy

Rumours started to spread about him
He denied them
She wasn't sure
He said 'do you trust me?'
She said 'yes'

They were in love
They planed their lives with each other
They thought they'd be together forever

Over time she got worried she wasn't good enough
He said 'I love you and no one else, I promise'
She believed him

He had problems at home
She helped him
He broke down in front of her
She comforted him
He thanked her

Gradually, she got frustrated with him
They started to bicker and argue
She got angry
He yelled
She realised what she was doing
He stopped
She felt awful

She started to get worried that he was flirting with other girls
He said he wouldn't do that
She didn't believe him and continued to worry

She told him she had problems trusting people
He tried everything to make her better
She was embarrassed
He helped her
She was grateful

Other girls started to come between them
She got upset
He got angry
She asked him not to talk to them
He said 'anything for you'

Boys did the same
He got angry
He asked her to not talk to them
She said 'anything for you'

He thought nothing more of it

The rumours started again
This time he admitted what had happened
He explained
She cried
He told her he hadn't done anything wrong
She believed him
He apologised for not telling her sooner

More girls came between them
She told them all to back off
He got annoyed with her
He didn't understand

They argued more and more
She said things she didn't mean
He said things he didn't mean
They made up

They did that nearly every day

She found things he'd said to other girls
She was sick of it
He apologised over and over
She ended it in anger
He walked away

She realised what she'd done
She cried
He ignored her
She tried to get him back
He said 'no'
She broke down

He ignored her at school
He called her pathetic
She cried even more
His friends had a go at her
He started getting close to other girls
She was broken hearted

She tried to apologise to him
He wouldn't listen
He told her to stay out of his life

He thought nothing more of it

She called him names
He called her names
They both got upset

He pretended he didn't care
She tried not to care

He moved on
She still cared
He told her he didn't need her
She felt disposable

She was heart broken
She meant nothing to him
She started to hate herself for ever trusting him

He continued to call her names
She spiralled into depression
She stopped eating
She couldn't sleep
She cut herself
He didn't care

He thought nothing more of it

She tried to tell someone
He found out
He laughed at her
His friends called her pathetic

She couldn't tell her family
She couldn't tell her friends
She was alone

Over time, they became strangers

She started talking to an old friend
She told him how she felt
He comforted her
They got close
He came to see her
She was finally happy again

She moved on
He came back to her
He wanted her back
She told him she had someone else
He was hurt
She told him he should have realised earlier

They didn't speak again

Weeks later, she saw him in the hall
He glanced over
She held her head high, walked away
*And thought nothing more of it
First attempt at poetry (sorry it's long)
ryn Aug 2016
Like the tiniest of pebbles,
ignored by the cool fingers of the laughing brook.

Like the obscure cave...
So inaccessible that it never sees the light of day.

Like the move easily dismissed.
When the queen overshadowed the rook.

Like the kite that spiralled downward.
When its string snapped and wind refused to play.

Like the pothole that tripped,
simply because indifferent feet would only overlook.

Like an idea that never sees fruition,
when open minds are scarce and clenched fists scream nay.

Like hidden reasons that remains unseen.
When we judge by the actions we conveniently mistook.

Like consequential words whispered under my breath.
They bear much weight...
But I'm too afraid to say.
Riley Ayres Mar 2014
The endorphins fill my broken mind,
the bleeding does not cease as the relief overwhelms,
my body convulses at the touch of the knife,
but the feeling is one of medication.

My mind is sick,
only to be healed by the small droplets falling from my wrists,
my pills a mixture of pain and happiness,
my heart beats loudly and my body feels weak

nothing will stop the feeling once it has started
no one will make me wish I had never pierced my flesh
my scars tell a tale of great frustration
years of being battered and left aside

My father non existent,
his replacement would make him choke,
without him I would not have spiralled
into this deep dark pit of depression,

he was abusive by nature but that's no excuse,
he ruined me for 16 years and im still ruined now,
left for dead on the side of the highway
a life saving operation I had rather left me dead,

Coming through the other side,
has yet to happen smoothly
and as I watch his evil eyes,
I collapse , never again to open my mouth
CalC Jan 2014
Today in the garden,
I watched two squirrels
chase each other
up a pine tree.

Spiralling and spiralling
between branches and leaves,
till they reached the top,
and leapt to another tree.
Then spiralled and spiralled down
that old chestnut tree.
NF Aug 2015
Somewhere near to three years old in the hot dust of another country, a strange woman comes to me.
She is not like my mother but she calls herself Mama.
My family tell me that she is my grandmother.
This does not sit well with my infant self,
I inform them quite certainly that my only granny is across the seas in her big house of roast dinners and gardening and apple picking.
That was the time when I adored her.
And I vaguely remember haribos on a bed that wasn't my own
And streets that didn't know quiet.
Loud ladies who turned their attention to me
And sellers in the roads dancing between cars and waving their goods at my mother's inherently wealthy white skin.
And there were rural parts,
Sometimes the women didn't wear tops but that didn't matter as much as people think it does
And I separated the rocks from rice with this black imposter who insisted she was my grandmother.
My parents say she would place them before me to find and present them proudly-
She wasn't so much an imposter as a stranger.
And there was a shower
Not in the village but an urban area,
Where someone left a bar of soap
That my feet were too eager to meet,
Things spiralled out of control and I was heels over head, forehead becoming closely acquainted with tiles
And marked.
To this day that skin stain remains on my forehead but I forget where.
Time gives way to more accidents and mistakes
I wouldn't say that my visit was a mistake or a waste,
Though I only remember dubious seconds of blurry scenes and the split between reality and imagination isn't always too clean,
But it wasn't a waste.
It was the first, but more importantly, the last time I ever met
That black stranger who called herself my grandmother.
I’d **** to fall asleep
these ever sinking eyelids
break the black, the darkness parts.
Behind slits of light
reddening eyes weep
sitting moist, unnerving endings:
shards of vision ignite
swirling thoughts, impulsive pulses
of rapid electric sparks.
Sharpened spiralled contemplation:
daggers, knives of stimulation
emulating scythe like sweeps;
cutting spirals in the throat
I cough and splutter, mutter, choke.
What madness and envy lay
in the thrusting of hours passed.
She wouldn't let me fall away,
slump to slumbers thrown, alas
such beauty to demise,
roll down the blinds on rising skies.
Our crimson sheets grow ever-green;
her sunken body, lifeless, bare.
I imagine her final unbroken dream;
she finds this wealth, too hard to share.
David Barr Feb 2015
The orchestral and harmonic vocals of monks echo down spiralled and cast-iron staircases to the dungeons of our carefully crafted castle chambers of submission.
It is all in the warmth of our carotid pulse.
Oh delusional salesman of presumed superior status, it is important to acknowledge those spasmodic and physiological celebratory responses which resound like cross-cultural and cosmological anthems within the questionable corridors of fitness to stand trial.
I can feel your quivering pulse.
However, we must recognise that the required reports are not dissimilar to a beautifully carved chicken which is subject to the paradoxically crude and culinary eloquence and deviance of the gleeful pyromaniac.
The geometry of midnight has clearly outlined her symmetrical shapes, which require seasoning and the skillful administration of being quartered.
Chef, can I ask you: is designation superior to our authentic anthropological status?
Libby Graham Feb 2014
You remember that cow they told us about?
The one that jumped over the moon?
It never came back.
It’s hind legs were so powerful,
it’s hooves so sturdy
that he jumped from here,
on earth,
all the way over the moon.
All the way through the asteroid belt
past Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune
and even Pluto,
that tiny little sphere of ice
those *** holes at the International Astronomical Union
declassified as a planet in 2006.
The cow died before it got there though.
Maybe because there’s no oxygen in space
though I’ll never be certain.
But his body kept on floating.
Still propelled by the force it left earth with:
a dead black and white cow
sailed out of our solar system
and into the Arm of Orion.
But the light from Rigel and Betelgeuse
chased him away.
Blue-white and red supergiants have that effect on people.
Or cows.
Even dead cows.
And so, our travelling hero, who I’ve now named Frank,
spiralled through 0-gravity
and ended up
on the other side of the Milky Way.
Cygnus. Cygnus’ Arm is what caught him.
Cygnus and Frank became good friends.
Who could imagine!?
A dead cow and swan made of stars!
How preposterous.
But eventually they spread apart
(as all friendships eventually do)
and so Frank was left without a companion
and drifted off through space once more.
And we haven’t heard from him since.
oh my stars May 2015
I wake to see my tear-stained pillow.
It looks at me with pure menace,
Replicating the hatred I have for myself
For hurting you.
Last night is a blur
Of desperation,
Why is it that making you happy makes me
Last night we
Spoke about
But it spiralled into everything
Without any effort at all.
I am too dysfunctional to continue.
And this morning you'd written a poem
About how you're too sad to write.
Can I have damaged you that much?
That it has prevented you from
Oh how you love to write.
It is writing that unites us.
Have I broken you
So much that the link between us is also
My tear-stained pillow smothers me with the memories of last night.
It is over now.
I am over.
I am gone.
I love you
Sia Jane Sep 2013
My mum she always told me I was akin to
a butterfly
She described me as an electric blue that matched
my eyes
One that no one can miss or go unnoticed yet one
who flew
In a way that meant she was spotted and seen
never observed
Fleeting passive outgrown unlived her soul that soared in
spiralled loops
Never let her go they cried out as a child for she will only ever
run away
Each flinch of her wings each momentary rest she knew time only
chased her
So she flew escaped wandered endless continents with each breath
new life
But never forget the old proverb; all that is gold does not glitter
and essentially
Not all those who wander are lost
Because I am not lost, I just found my wings that were all at once clipped
when young.

© Sia Jane
Emily Ould Mar 2013
i loved you, back then
but now the love tastes bitter and scalded
i still think of you, all the time
of the days back when you were Mine

because there was a time,
when i used to run around Fearless,
knowing what we had was a perfect little
Love Story

your Starlight shined to me
and although i still remain Invisible to you
i'll still forever adore you,
although your State of Grace has now fallen

i wanted you to stay forever sixteen,
i wanted you to Never Grow Up
i wanted you to Stay
Stay, Stay

The Way I Loved You was intense,
and so, so easy; Untouchable,
but jealousy has spiralled in and out,
and out of my control

you comforted a girl whose world had been shattered
around her by divorce, depression
and instability
you allowed her to Breathe

now i'm stuck, stuck on The Outside
where it's bitter and cold
Treacherous, even
Everything Has Changed

so Long Live
those times I used to share with you
because they're not my own anymore
and they were truly The Best Day(s)

And when I think Tim McGraw,
of course
I do think of you
Abbi Jordan Oct 2017
I sat staring into space,
My life a mess my mind a state.
Listening to this voice in my head,
I followed its demand, to destruction I was led

‘Don’t eat’ it said ‘it will make you fat’,
therefore I listened and with that,
my body became frail, freezing and tired.
I was left alone to suffer, broken and battered.

‘Don’t add milk, skip your snack,
you don’t need lunch, it will make you fat’.
‘Think about your figure, your stomach your legs,
your unworthy already your better of dead’

As weight I lost, my happiness disappeared.
Feeling numb was an emotion I began to not fear.
Hunger became normal, a comfort a ‘pleasure’
Just throw it away, it will make you look ‘better’.

‘You are disgusting and worthless’, it penetrated my thoughts
A disease, an illness harnessed its grip on my mind.
Abbi had gone, eyes glazed over,
my skin all grey, a corpse I embodied.

It pulled me backwards, isolation was key,
but the voice didn't care as it was harming me.
My mind, my body, soul all blurred into one,
a girl that was once happy had completely gone.

Anxiety spiralled my life out of control,
fooled me in thinking I could still withhold,
the anguish, the terror that my eating disorder craved,
I wanted nothing more than to finally cave.

For too long, I watched others suffer,
screaming and shouting ‘just eat, what’s the matter’.
A simple comment made me change,
‘STOP killing yourself, you can get through the pain’

So body, I think this is terribly overdue,
I’m sorry for putting you in so much pain, abusing you.
I began feeding you with food, a nutrient, a need.
And with that I started putting on weight,
to get healthy, strong, NOT FAT!

Guilt was intense, relapse a strong thought I struggled to prevent.
But Rex is weak and I am strong,
So I keep eating and fighting,
I’m not going to respond.

My dreams are more important that looking a certain way.
I want to live my life without a voice dictating what I do or say.

Living rather than dying, happy rather than sad.
A simple diction of acceptance, I had to finally grab.

Abbi Jordan, 17 years old. In recovery and fighting, 6 months and counting.
This is my first poem so I'm quite anxious posting it!
Lo! Such is bright a moon along night sky,
Distant was evenings Christmas lights,
I wondered o’er winter’s vista,
Perplexed, standing peering, a frozen pond

Beneath frozen birch trees I paused,
Watching silent and dreary,
Alabaster ornaments stretched a far,
Not a poet gay anymore

Pensive perched on a chilly hill,
Breathing frills spiralled through chilled air,
My heart, red holly berries bore winters green spikes,
Winter Raven danced fancy nearby thoughtful was I

Gentle hearts greatest treasurer no more,
What wasted power in loves sweet spent flowers,
How rich was the whither?
Of pride forfeited a sad creature my comfortless well

Oh, are weight winter’s shadows clad in his star tears,
Silently watching meteors dance on skies ─ a night cloud passes by,
A face robs now still eye, a breath, a beat in lover’s glare,
A soul set sail, passage a moon, a star sparkled a future pair

Only winter sleeps in silent mists, a winter’s breath
Until summer comes near ─  my darling dear.......

© Arnay Rumens / A Sol Poet N 2014
A poet who walks the winter ice lands, a love lost frozen!
BDH Jun 2012
Radio Transmission---Static
End Transmission.

With twists like a dying withered thing,
my senses are dulled,
my senses are dulled.

Vaccumed slowly in a first kiss,
the taste of another is potent;
curious you hold fast.

Spiralled into thick pitch,
envision the veil of a muslim woman,

A form rises and waits in the void,
she prepares to receive, to overcome,
to swallow and consume.

Wooing you, gliding about
whispering to and fro
at once ravished by words,
your presence evokes her.

A substance flows through
puckered moistened lips
inflamed and permeated with longing.

Embraced by ghosts lips,
tangling you, while pecking
at cloak, face and body,
siphoning life.

Tingles upon the flesh,
lend to ******* never quelched.
Her words:
"Delicious mate lounge with me,
partake of my sorrows, my intimacies.
One cannot revel alone, replace
the fickle before you."

You languish; absorbing
pungent flavors.
A masked perfume laced
with sufferings.

This longing gnaws,
within the organs of men.
Beating and pawing
against the tissues of the mind.

Kneading fences around the skull,
encasing it in its grip.
Following forth,
lips will seek
hips will ****** against
arms will encircle All.
This net will count its catch
when caught, feeding
the glazed fervor of greed.

Stabbings of hunger
seep from your coiling tongue,
elongating, wrapping around tidbits
served aplenty.

Dainties, morsels, spoonfuls, sips
and bites,
these are the helpings evident between,
chompings, gurgles, and slobberings.
Meat suckled from the passages of your teeth.

Becoming a porpoise thing
without definition, moving layers
of corpulence and indulgence.

Before long, you incite wrath;
your skeletal companion eats you,
a banquet of your own making.
chimaera Nov 2014
a golden dusk

this blindness

rising a sun
in the sidereal night

my vortex

spiralled path
from nothing
to nothing

a golden dusk


from Italian *opera*, literally "a work, labor, composition," from Latin *opera* "work, effort"
I still sport his letter-man
but not for it's vintage fit
I tried so hard
wanted to be just like him
from his walk to his cool talk
I even changed my hair

Crumbling beneath the pressure
It's lonely forced upon that pedestal
It started with hope in the form of a pill
told himself it would alleviate the symptoms

Suffering in silence it was a long way to fall
As he spiralled down his usage went up
All he craved was something more
That snow, that brick, that blow

With one final **** to the dome
His high his eyes closed shut
He tried so hard to drown his demons
He didn't know they could swim

There are days I still want to be like him
Just like him but a stronger man
His walk, his talk
He should know in my eyes
His pedestal still stands
I wrote this after my older brothers accidental overdose. He was my idol, I just wish he were still here to see just how much we love him
Kurtis Cullen Sep 2013
When the vaults of Heaven
Let go of that one,
Fateful star:

The skies leapt at her arrival
The air beckoned her ever on
& The winds carried her forward
So that she may never fall,

And so she soared:
Dancing round Earth's icy poles
Skirting the ancient tree tops
& Laughing among mountain peaks
At last She spiralled down the sleepy valley
That opens upon the sea...

There, o'er the deep fathomless surface
Containing its portion of the cosmic wild,
She crept forward
To see her reflection fly
Moving in unison
with waves swifting mild:

And in it revealed
The face of a Child
Tiny features, innocent grace
Yet an unspoken yearning,
A longing in her face:

For her eyes told a story
No words ever conveyed,
Her eyes told a story
Wrapped in a blanket of tears,
Her eyes revealing a story
Untouched by the passing of years...

And her eyes lifted to Heaven
And the rain drops soon came,
Her gaze steadfast towards Father
Mixed the celestial water, with pain--

It was then she remembered her Home,
With the blessings of ten thousand mornings gone,
And the promise of many more than that to come...
So She gave herself again to Father
While she continued to roam,
But her heart betrayed a knowing  
In Whom she called Home.
M G Hsieh Apr 2016
Do not go out softly
but like a free verse
rain into the Pacific

splattered then spent.
Odious vessel,
dry and salted.

Come watch comets
graze mountains,
with their audacity.

And eclipses! Behind
blue lights and fluorescent skies --
foibles of exigency.

Form was not made
for free spirits
to crash into. Watermarks

dance lively now, like petals
that once spiralled
outside our window.
lena Oct 2017
Flowers grow through cracks
Cracks in the wall
Where bare brick has been torn apart by bare storms
Or steel ripped apart by a hurricane of grief
Cracks in the pavement
Where some people refuse to step
In the fear of some supernatural supernova
Descending from the heavens and ripping their mind apart
Cracks grow in places where there is nobody to keep them from becoming brittle
Things snap when they're left for too long
Like sticks and bodies and minds
That have had enough of casual use
Of beatings and bricks and careful abuse

Pain is beautiful
Is that what they told you?
Be proud of those wounds and gashes you painted
Show them to the world because your pain is beautiful
Did it feel beautiful?
When it was four in the morning and you were staring at your ceiling
Wondering how everything had spiralled in iridescent lines
What a beautiful thing it is, to fall
To fall from that crumbling platform you built for yourself
How lovely it was when your fingernails ripped
As you scrambled and clutched at the edge
And your stomach wracked from your mouth as you fell
Did it feel beautiful, when you fell?
Did you ever really fall?

Everything ugly can become beautiful
A thousand poppies above a sea of rotting corpses
Turning to a graveyard of bones
Flower heads red like the blood spilt on the dark soil
Drip, drip, drip like a broken tap
Slash, slash, slash like a knife slicing through flesh
And that muffled, drawn-out scream mixed with gurgling of blood
Bubbling from lips and staining them, staining everything
That garish, bright shade of crimson
And then a thump
Because the end is always the softest part
Even if you cling on, kicking and screaming
The tide will sweep you away and your voice will not be heard
Unless you can find a rock out in the waves
And tear off those fingernails all over again to just
Hold on

Flowers grow through cracks
Cracks in bones and cracks in minds
Flowers of that garish, bright shade of crimson
With those seeds of madness
That wind you up like a little music box
And twist you around like a clockwork ballerina
And when you break those tiny screws
It's all your fault
The flowers that grow through the cracks
Are the flowers that drive the nail further
Until it hits soft flesh
Down through to bone
The bone of cracks and broken screws
But you did it all yourself
Why did you do this to yourself?
Aila Natasha Jun 2012
I made your words into a paper airplane
And flew them out my window
You were supposed to be on that airplane too
You were supposed to vanish from my mind
My feelings were supposed to disappear in a fatal crash
I was aiming for total nuclear destruction
In hopes of annihilating your sweet presence
But all that you are and all that I feel for you
Simply spiralled slowly into a deep, hidden place
nothing died, nothing perished
You remained very much alive
David Barr Jun 2014
I think that it may be necessary for you to reconsider your original plan of action.
Consider the power of an old school chopper, as she purrs along desert highways with malicious intent.
Stroke your own cylinder if you may.
But I stand at the bar with timeless convictions that are not dissimilar to innocent victim pathology.
The steel industry has spiralled into a timeless vortex of despair, whilst white-collar crime explodes into an ******* fountain of exposition.
Remember tomorrow, as the sun sets over Western industries, where the streets are paraded by whoredom.
Let us pray the sinner’s prayer.
Thank you for your planetary participation.

— The End —