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Atlas Jul 2019
Society is a prison.
It traps you in
And steals your freedoms.
Makes you conform.
Until you are normal.

So why don't we escape?

Because we are afraid.
Afraid of being alone.
Loneliness rots the mind
It steels the heart.

We all decided
Being trapped together
Is better than to be free
Alone.
ryn Sep 2014
Light train chugging, working to outrun
Over exerting, pulling along your freight
Sand is running out under the diminishing sun
Fastidiously you tug on your enormous weight

Segmented equal in seven hulking proportions
Weaving between sleeping rocky giants
Assertion in your drive gifted from the high heavens
Borne of light your cargo load of tenants

Silver blurred rays glinting back as reply
As you power your way through
Defying seconds, before the last rays should die
Against odds, delivering what is due

Questing to alleviate my inflicted darkness
Spear of brilliance slicing through my mind
Illuminating the farthest and tiniest of crevices
Nook and crannies that willed me blind

Careful manoeuvring to keep your balance
Through scenic views fraught with treachery
Furiously working to keep your cadence
Hopeful of unloading the load you carry

What lies dormant in that cargo of yours?
What sleeps easy within those boxcars?
What stokes the fire to diligently run your course?
What promises you bear, travelling near and far?

Bales of hope and crates of strength
Supplies of kindness and self-worth
Reside within your immense length
Intact and lay quiet within your formidable girth

Reliant on the light that fuels and feeds
Your axles seem tireless guiding forth those wheels
Thundering over land with the power of a thousand steeds
Armed to your teeth with alloys and steels

Expelling grit and dirt as you pummelled across
Grey-white fumes, shoot up to the sky
Flag flogged by wind, billow and toss
Blaring your whistle as you race on by

Propelling forward, horizon up ahead
There it is...in all its tenebrous glory
Darkened locomotive seething mad with dread
Brace for the clash and the loads the two carry
See "Doom Train"
See "Collision Course"
Vince Paige Jun 2010
a man is born with a *****, testicles, and various other masculine equipment and tendencies.

a Man lives by a masculine code that revolves around the physical, the mental, and the spiritual. a Man is committed to himself above all else. this may sound selfish, but it isn't. a Man not only puts himself on high, but connects himself mind, body, and soul to the physical, mental, and the spiritual. everything that he connects to himself becomes himself. a Man does not distinguish between the his own flesh and the flesh of his children. a Man does not distinguish between his mind and the mind's of those in his inner circle. a Man does not distinguish between his will and the will of his god. a Man is power. he is the generator. those that he has allowed to plug into his world are empowered by him. they come into his presence and feel better for it. a Man changes lives. a Man understands the trinity of justice, mercy, and charity. a Man is not afraid to give to those as they deserve. he looks with fair eyes and does not slow his hand or slow its speed. a Man is not cold enough to be alien to compassion. he can see to the heart of matters and look past the easy answers. when others will marvel at his wisdom and praise his mercy. he will only think 'as it should be'. a Man is not without the ability to go beyond. he can look to the future. help those that need it, sometimes before they need it. anticipation and preparedness are the weapons of the Man. stoic strength is his shield. a Man is not without weakness. he understands his weaknesses, but is not victim to them. he may succumb to them, but as a master of justice, he steels himself for the price he must pay. weakness must be addressed and turned to strength. as a Man fears, he must stand up and face it. as a Man despairs, he must turn it aside. when a Man fails, all that have plugged into his power will fail. when a Man falls, families, nations, societies fall. when a Man falls, it is the duty of another Man to come to his aid. when Men stop aiding Men, they merely become men with penises and various other masculine equipment and tendencies.

The Man is a Man that all other Men fear and long to be. He is the one that Men plug into. Some Men see that as a sign of weakness and rebel, but The Man signs paychecks and feeds families. who will topple The Man?
12:21 AM 5/8/05
Mohamed Nasir Apr 2018
Here neatly side by side these rotted steels
Cancerous rust peeled off paints lay idle
Progress put halt these **** grown wheels
The sad pale ghosts of once was tireless angels

In unknown graveyard of ambulances
There's silence. But whistling birds in a tree
Not like sirens blared heard far distances
Cut through traffic like ships divide the sea

Wings on fire ferrying perilous load
Sick and dying dire need to hospital
Mother's in labour mishap on the road
Saviour of lives young, old and critical

Where mankind employs, mankind destroys
Hollowed vans left to whims like broken toys.
I came across a field of discarded ambulances. Sad to see them left in the mercy of the sun and the rain. As if their previous efforts had gone in vain.
Over and back,
the long waves crawl
and track the sand with foam;
night darkens, and the sea
takes on that desperate tone
of dark that wives put on
when all their love is done.

Over and back,
the tangled thread falls slack,
over and up and on;
over and all is sewn;
now while I bind the end,
I wish some fiery friend
would sweep impetuously
these fingers from the loom.

My weary thoughts
play traitor to my soul,
just as the toil is over;
swift while the woof is whole,
turn now, my spirit, swift,
and tear the pattern there,
the flowers so deftly wrought,
the borders of sea blue,
the sea-blue coast of home.

The web was over-fair,
that web of pictures there,
enchantments that I thought
he had, that I had lost;
weaving his happiness
within the stitching frame,
weaving his fire and frame,
I thought my work was done,
I prayed that only one
of those that I had spurned
might stoop and conquer this
long waiting with a kiss.

But each time that I see
my work so beautifully
inwoven and would keep
the picture and the whole,
Athene steels my soul.
Slanting across my brain,
I see as shafts of rain
his chariot and his shafts,
I see the arrows fall,
I see the lord who moves
like Hector lord of love,
I see him matched with fair
bright rivals, and I see
those lesser rivals flee.
Tyler King Jan 2017
January 19, 2017
The sword of Damocles hangs tense in the American night as a nation steels itself,
My friends stick to their guns, my enemies do the same, and there's all these children who don't know which side of a border they'll end up on when the dust settles, there's all these trees down south who never asked to feel the weight of bodies on their branches, there's all these people talking in circles and there's nothing but doom on the television,
Dr. King, I think of you this night, three days following the holiday they pinned to your corpse like a participation ribbon, I think of what they've done to you,
Dr. King, they murdered you, they dissolved you in bleach, they rewrote your history and their mouths defile you to this day
Dr. King, I want you to know there are parts of you that cannot be stripped away,
Two hundred fifty thousand raised voices, five hundred thousand raised hands,
Countless bodies in the street, countless jail sentences, countless tears shed in pursuit of a dream
Dr. King, they tried to tell me your dream was of peace, but it's always been about freedom
Dr. King, I know you would understand what must be done in the pursuit of freedom
Dr. King, you knew that nonviolence could only work until they came for your blood
Dr. King, you knew one day you'd have to strike back but they never gave you the chance
Dr. King, they come for the blood of your brothers and sisters today
Dr. King, they put words in your corpses mouth and teach it to dance,
Dr. King, they will claim you no longer
Dr. King, your chains will be broken,
Dr. King, one day, you will be free at last,
Glory glory, hallelujah, free at last
AP Staunton Jan 2016
Two inches was the measure, of young Stevies blunder,
Digging out concrete, not knowing whats under.
He felt a nugget, that wouldn't yield to the Pick,
So he used the Jack-Hammer, until he got that "kick".
Caught fire on the spot, looked at me, shocked,
Died in flames, got a days pay docked.
Cut the main cable, Fifty millimetres, metric,
I know you hate to ask, but Friends aren't Electric.

Dennis stepped back, pleased with his graft,
Fell two hundred foot, down an unguarded shaft.
Been on the Grinder, cutting out steels,
So the Elevator boys could fix , their cogs and their wheels.
Never said a word, no shout or no fuss,
Dennis died like he lived, just one of us.

Me and Baz on a roof, we knew was asbestos,
Brittle like toffee, temperamental as Kate Moss,
Had no crawling boards, so we tip-toed like burglars,
Clinging on tightly, think Ivy on Pergola's.
I heard the crack, leapt to the hip-tile,
Baz clawed and scraped, resistance was futile.
They spread out the sand, where Baz hit the deck,
To mop up the blood, from a broken neck.
Health and safety, if's and but's,
Shoddy workmanship, taking short-cuts.
We have no say, we try our best,
Hard hats, harder boots and high-visibility vests,
Are all that we leave, not Time-Shares or Merc's,
Just daughters in tears, Dads not home from work.
Louis Segoe Nov 2021
How long woman is wild when she is alone?
How far woman can reach without her soulmate?

How quick woman can fall in her endless waiting!
How fun woman can die if she is alone in big house!

How strong woman can fight looking her husband die?
How big woman can dream if her husband is not rich?

Which wills woman can have if her husband is poor?
Which knot can win woman to unknot if her husband is bleeding?

Which well can be nearly for widowed **** woman?
Which well can be so far for kind widowed woman?

Which heart woman can have if her children are prisoned?
Which decision woman can take if prison guard needs her to ler her kids get out of steels?

How fun is man thinking he owns her wife's heart!
What happens when he is died so?


After understanding all that I asked my mind grandpa, how dare she talks women in that way he told me "all women not like that" and again " non kind hearted woman Are married with Sky"
Women's mind and power depends on  time.
Keep watching!!!!
All estuaries flow eastbound, and the subterranean rail tracks keep forcing against the estuaries’ grain and dust foundations perpendicularly to them.*



How can a sane proposition -- a quantification of syntax execution (those squirming cuticles through bonds of regression)— an excessive reflection, reflexive inspection,

Prove its sanity through continued suggestion?



Deductive insurrections stirred in memory,

A rumble, causing sediments to crumble,

Wineglasses balanced atop countertops tumble.

Spilling contents upon the grained wooden, elitists' floors.



"Anesthetic, onsetting tuberculosis in breath patterns,

Gavels ringing on rigged tolling tongs in caverns,

Dark tolerances to Copernican astronomy in shadows,

And the handle grinds as boxcar wheels' flints and steels catch and spark in addled locks," I mumbled from a half-nap.



It was surgery, the smooth procedures on the moving trains,

The gains and plectrums scraped against the brains' spider veins,

To reorganize the sane, to bridge the broken definitions changed,

To prevent arguments' bone structure from fractures and sprains.



"Use gavels against the scalpels, sculpt with their judgment," a corona dream's habitant corrugated.

He pounded the gavel's end against the knife to chisel at the pituitary gland pulsing in his subject,

And her arms flailed like a horse's legs in heat-induced convulsion.
I thought it was done.



The Canson Merue train screamed in the night under earth to Yellowknife to meet Canadian soil as the Heavy Breather pounded his gavel.
Sonali Sethi Sep 2014
She stands on the sandy beach
Her hands shake; she’s afraid
She steels herself with a breath
And into the ocean she starts to wade

Her brother jumps in, dauntlessly
“The sharks will get you!” he jokes
She ignores him, she knows the truth.
Sharks don’t attack unprovoked

She stares at the endless blue
Who knows what really lies beneath?
She walks with slow, hesitant steps
Into the ocean till she’s in waist deep

A brush against her leg, she jumps,
Shrieks and falls under,
A giant wave hits the beach,
She sits up and looks in wonder

On the ocean floor, a starfish sleeps
Its fins moves, she’s fascinated
A crab goes by with its sideways gait,
By the busy shore, she’s captivated

Tiny coloured gems shine on the beach
As if just waiting to be discovered
Shells of all shapes and sizes,
Waiting to be kept and treasured.

A small wave splashes her gently,
Sand and salt water everywhere,
Nothing to be scared of; she decides
She’s found her perfect spot right there.

No need to go any further
Into the ocean; into the unknown
Her friends make sandcastles nearby,
And she sits there happily, on her own.
A little girl's first visit to the ocean. :)
Ain't blemished with blood
There're queues of personas
Trying to nick every motion and shift
Every angst of the heart
Until they're hopes sink in.

On those blue and hard things
They find comfort from each infirmity
There're linings all over
Maneuvering every groove
Shaving the people out
To the finished and whitened stucco.

Gold steels are not embroidered
The hand of the room
Looks inviting
With warmth and fondness ,
Some drives in
Unlocked and melting every delusion

The sky speaks
The clouds has no mutual feelings
Acting odd and remarkable
No rainbow to be seen.

Blonde arrows
With every breath one takes
With every move one tries
Choosing to hold close the lacks
Accepting every fault
For indeed, at the latter days
**The Healer Himself was the Way.
Now waiting for my turn in the Hospital. Too nervous, but the Lord gives me peace. My friends (both earthly and spiritual friends) told me to go for a second opinion. I was scheduled to undergo my second surgery in the afternoon. Yes, today.. But I thank the Lord. He knows what He is doing. I pray and claim that all who are here will be healed by the Lord. Thank You Jesus! My faith has made me well!
Brian Oarr Feb 2012
Celebrate the invisible embrace.
You will be quite alone,
When the altruistic deed is done.

Content your heart in silence.
No choir will raise its voice
To sing your praises.

Consign your life to anonymity.
History no longer needs
Martyrs to fill anthologies.

Comfort your dreams in oleander.
Flowers are an appropriate caress,
For love conferred in obscurity.

Cultivate a flair for solitude.
Isolation is the purifying fire
That steels a damascene soul.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2017
A Burner on the Bridge

A burner on the bridge.  A human burns,
Trapped in technology and beer and fire
We hear the cold dispatch, the desperate call
To go, to see, to mend, if possible
We drive.  The flashers, blue and red, rotate
In the startled faces of those we pass
At speed, Hail Mary speed, surreal speed
Time, motion, space, and light obscure the night

In a pattern tail lights wink dim, then bright
Stalled traffic makes a long glowworm in reds
Boats, trailers, trucks, tankers, Volkswagens, Fords,
People in shorts drift around, slug Cokes, laugh
Unshaven men smoke cigarettes and swear
Blue-haired killers in Chrysler New Yorkers
Blink blankly through bifocals in the glare
Of flashers and flashlights, flares and taillights.
A burner on the bridge.  A Human burns.

We drive slowly through the curious crowds
Who mill about and stare and point and laugh
They consider a charred corpse fair reward
For being delayed on their trip home from the lake
When they ‘rive home they’ll hoist stories and yip:
“I was there; I seen it, man; it was gross!”
But some already are anxious to go
They honk, and pop a top, and cuss the cops.
A burner on the bridge.  A human burns.

Below the bridge, old, silent water lurks
Oozing warmly, fetidly, in its drift
Slithering blackly in the warm spring night
A silent observer of fire and death
A carrier of beer cans and debris,
Radiator coolant, plastic, and blood
Concrete pylons pounded into the mud
Where once were trees.  And now the water sees
A burner on the bridge.  A human burns.

The bridge is an altar.  The wreckages
Are vessels sacred to our gods, the dead
Are sacrifices to our gods, an incense of death
Our offering is broken flesh, and blood:
“The is my body, burnt on this spring night;
This is my blood, shed on the center stripe.
A burner on the bridge.  A human burns.

A shapeless hat among the smoking ash,
Old clothes, a shoe, cans of beer, fishing lures:
The sad trifles and trinkets of the dead
Now, firemen in their yellow rubber suits
Climb slowly through the tortured, broken steels
And gently stow a man into a bag
Ashes and smoke, green radiator fluid
The old river flows, wherever it goes.
A burner on the bridge.  A human burned.

Hours later: coffee at the Dairy Queen
High school baseball players yelp cheerfully as
They wreck fast cars in a video game.
Under the fluorescents, the flashers seem
Still to turn, endlessly turn, in the night
Hamburgers, possibly char-broiled, are gulped
Sloppily, laughingly, as cleated feet
And deep-fried breath cheer a video death.
A burner on the bridge.  A human burned.

A burner on the bridge.  A human burned.
Oh! yes, I will own we were dear to each other;
  The friendships of childhood, though fleeting, are true;
The love which you felt was the love of a brother,
  Nor less the affection I cherish’d for you.

But Friendship can vary her gentle dominion;
  The attachment of years, in a moment expires:
Like Love, too, she moves on a swift-waving pinion,
  But glows not, like Love, with unquenchable fires.

Full oft have we wander’d through Ida together,
  And blest were the scenes of our youth, I allow:
In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather!
  But Winter’s rude tempests are gathering now.

No more with Affection shall Memory blending,
  The wonted delights of our childhood retrace:
When Pride steels the *****, the heart is unbending,
  And what would be Justice appears a disgrace.

However, dear George, for I still must esteem you—
  The few, whom I love, I can never upbraid;
The chance, which has lost, may in future redeem you,
  Repentance will cancel the vow you have made.

I will not complain, and though chill’d is affection,
  With me no corroding resentment shall live:
My ***** is calm’d by the simple reflection,
  That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive.

You knew, that my soul, that my heart, my existence,
  If danger demanded, were wholly your own;
You knew me unalter’d, by years or by distance,
  Devoted to love and to friendship alone.

You knew,—but away with the vain retrospection!
  The bond of affection no longer endures;
Too late you may droop o’er the fond recollection,
  And sigh for the friend, who was formerly yours.

For the present, we part,—I will hope not for ever;
  For time and regret will restore you at last:
To forget our dissension we both should endeavour,
  I ask no atonement, but days like the past.
yea big yosef
expose government expos
that's all I know
so **** the cash flow
but I make cash flow like creflo
never chased a dolla
yo it makes me wanna holla
not talking Marvin Gaye
um tAlking bout the words I lay spray
techs but prefer aks miss ya next birthday
make ya best ya worse day
never thirsty
stay quenching like Gatorade
make serenades
in the street
ask big leech
we after the money and the power
leaving scars on ya face
eradicate the weak out the race
I set the pace beat the case
cuz they know they place
uh we mob like Italians Mafioso's
put holes in ones
like gulf course
with ya open torso so
ya know
the game is to be sold not told
and since I'm standing large
you know we don't fold holdem
like texas pushing lexuses beamers caddys to
Bentley coupes
quick to shoot through my 30 odd six poppin licks like kilos bricks
in the hood it's understood
that when we play the game
we go for flames
but miss the burn though
we go ever where riots show quick blows
make for blood out ya nose
fluid leakin mind sinking
I mo assist than pastors to deacons
**** Spanish broads
from Columbian to Puerto Rican
I'm seekin
out the best from east north south and the west I guess
I'm tying to take down the commission
no General admjssion just listen
closely to the sounds of shots glocks pops it don't stop
til the elite off the top


uh who ya know do it better
pack a berretta
still.rock Cosby Coogi Sweaters
get hos ***** wetter ***** slayer mack mayor
say ya rhymes with me
the best on the master of the ceremonies
like ghost P come close to thee
watch my gun burn thee
like sun burn ****** neva get a turn
after i touch the mic
i melt **** hotter than lava get
out of a volcano
kick rhymes since i was embryo
make ****** sing soprano
if they try to my money though
we flips keys then take trips to Belize
sneeze
on the track bless me says me
my pedigree is nasty as nas back in 93
ya see naw cuz i braille spotlight
n the limelight come in yo dreams at night
freddie cougar with tha 9 double m luger
make bodies flex like lex lugar
i drive a jaguar 20 inch rims across the bar ghetto superstar
n think before ya speak
think before ya blink?
my rhymes be confusin' as a riddle from the Sphinx
they can jinx
me all they want but all they get is a gun taunt amerikkaz most wanted
pop steels only if ya want it
representin' like ****** in the pen holdin' down on lock
i **** a glock for every year
that ya aint on the block
one luv to my army none can harm
if i got nations forming
every brother gotta ski mask
quick to blast from the past to present
never get tense or hesitant
we drop ******* puff on phillies
knock fools out til they look ****** n silly
i can go on & on til tha break of dawn
rappers get no delight when i grab the mic its like friday night lights
uh one punch one round
n you can tell i won before it begun
by listening to the crowds sound uh
He undertook
  Such a jolly folly
To search for his heart's twin

O'er plain, and peak
   Never sparing daring
Mad quest he did begin

He careless spent
  All his funny money
For he spared no expense

Heard of a man
   said to uncover lovers
Without a recompense

"He's only known
   as the Giant Bryant"
For there were none bigger

So off he went
  For how dare-he tarry
With the greatest vigor

Within one moon
  He did righted sighted
The giant's stone castle

And cautious stepped
  Midst the towers flowers
For he was quite facile

With guarded prose
  Lest he adverse converse
Relayed his quest of years

And though none be
  A more mighter blighter
Tall Bryant shed six tears

"Your search for love"
    Reflects gallant talent
And will surely quench thirst

In yonder vale
  In a deeping sleeping
A daughter who's born first
    
A true love's heart
   And hair flaxen waxen
Braids tressed with a blue fleur

She longs for love
    To keep-her deeper
Hope steels her to endure

It was just so
  For he found-her sounder
In the vale with fields green

Her braided hair
   In breeze saving waving
With the suns golden sheen

As he held her
  In their blissing kissing
Knew he'd ne'er search again

For in her eyes
   Shown a growing knowing
Reflecting his hearts twin
We had stopped at Bennys I got him some fries
A nice day for a drive not a cloud in the sky
We got in the truck I checked his seat twice
I’m forever greatful for my wifes advice
The diesel engine purred as I shifted gears
To my grandmas house no thoughts of fear
I hear a bang and in a flash
We rolled and rolled crash and bash
I count the hits one two three
windows exploding around me
I swing out the door hung from my belt
We hit dirt and highway the hardest ive felt
Time seemed to pause or maybe just slow
With the earths every trouncing blow
Upside-down truck upon my head
How the **** am I not dead
Around my ribs i feel the steels bite
The crash is over but now is the fight
My son is alive I can hear him cry
He is to young to remember goodbye
I must get to him i must pull him out
Steel digging deeper as i struggle about
My breath is laborious I’m struggling for air
The pain is hellish too atrocious to bear
Then she laid on the road infront of me
A woman who was scared but strong for me
I coughed up blood and gasped for air
She squeezed my hand and said a prayer
Blood flowed and filled my eyes and ears
The world turned red as blood met tears
Slowly a silance began to loom
Another sign of an ominous doom
She screamed the trucks are coming they are on their way
Oh lord oh lord don’t take this man away
You stay with me you stay with your son
You can’t leave now his lifes just begun
My body shudders as it gasps a wheeze
I feel a cold chill i hoped was a breeze
It has been too long since I’ve taken a breath
What lays ahead life after death.
Please feel free to comment or message me especially if you have had a similar experience. I have found it hard to find anyone who can relate.
RW Khalid Curley Jan 2015
Dear Sirs,
            
He loved your magazine.

At night

it took him to places
where he could never go,
to warm and smiling lands,
to adventures in the paradise of his dreams.
He met happy friendly people,
who enjoyed life,
who had lives,

people who went
where they wanted
to do
what they pleased,
people who had no care
but for the next experience,
the ultimate daiquiri
the best bite of lobster,

who dealt with weighty questions
about
the marbling of steak,
the proper age of spring lamb,
the quality of truffles in Perigord.

He lay awake
at night
and wondered
about the snow depth in Aspen,
about climbing the Matterhorn,
about accommodations in Katmandu.

He imagined
Malay shadow play
on the ceiling of his house,
smiling Sherpas serving steaming tea
on the blue ice glaciers of Mt. Everest.
He dreamed
of
finger dancing in Chang Mai,
outrigger races in Tahiti,

a mysterious rendezvous
on the Orient Express,
lazy boat rides
on the Danube,

a visit
to Kafka’s house.

He loved your magazine.

He loved its’ breadth,
it’s many pages,
it’s thick cover.
He liked to tape it
to his chest

in the morning

when his house slammed open,
when he lock-stepped to the yard.
He felt its comforting girth
a glossy pulp breastplate
armor for a paladin
in a savage island’s
waking nightmare
of
numbing terror,
grinding fear,
sudden death.

He strolled about the yard
in sunlight without warmth
nodding to devils he knew
ignoring the ones he didn’t
deflecting their knowing looks.

Defense was automatic:

prison is a universe of deceit,
lies are the coin of its realms,
in the market place of its interactions
charlatans abound and falsity reigns
undisturbed by facts or connection
to an outside world.

A man can be
whoever he chooses.
Behind the walls
it only requires
imagination.

The best liars
present a blank façade.
a conscious mirror reflects nothing.                                          
it lies without effort.

But,
behind the reflection,
the liar dreads
front street’s abhorrent truths;
weaknesses revealed
raw nerves exposed
by
dueling tongues’escalation.

Under constant observation
in a search lit world
touche
means more than point.
Face is
the sole possession of the ******.
Loss of face is an injury to the soul.

Shame
triggers combat
mean street’s rock ‘n roll
the back alley ballet
injured egos’
minuet d’mort.

And so the duet began;
two bored men
picking at the scabs
of each others weaknesses
each wound answered with another.

Their hot blood’s impassioned words
attracted schooling convicts cruising the yard.
The observers circled ominously
the hint of ******
a carnal lure.

No one chose sides
it was a private affair.
Crocodilian eyes peered
out of the non-committal murk
awaiting a feast of suffering
reflexively prepared
to slide into the mix,
to make turbulent
the stagnant pool
of prison life.
Fury’s moment
relieves the boredom.

A crowd of cruel eyes
illumined the arena.
Fangs flashed
in their savage attentions’ glare.
Contending wills
weighed
by a deadly balance
clashed
with the gnash of steels.
Shanks fenced
point counterpoint.
A gladiator fell
his heart punctured
by a screwdriver blade.

The writhing form
grew still.
Life soaked the concrete.

Blood brought bedlam,
a contagious frothing madness,
goons, gunfire, and choking gas,
a grim entertainment’s finale.

Laughter and derisive shouts,
the demons’ choral refrain,
were funeral music
for a loser’s journey
on a gurney to the morgue,
and the pages
of a magazine
lay scarlet on the ground,
fantasies
trampled
under sullen jealous feet.
McCaslin Apr 2010
your pain is Mine
and your strEngth
you pulse through my veins
death and hardship
betrayal and scorn
stopped you not
and i Gladly tread
in your mighty footsteps
your hAtefull words
fill my ears
i Drink your poison
likE the sweetest honey
it fills my ears and sTeels my
resolve
your Hate is my strength
swing your ax
and i will follow
till the grave
you brought me back
and for that i owe
you my eternal allegiance
together you and i shall set
this world afire
so wave your red flag
my dearest devil
and know that i stand
at your side, come hell and
high water.
For one of my Saviors Dave Mustaine.
If you can guess the secret word Ill owe you a dollar!
\m/
Derick Van Dusen Dec 2010
Love is the blond on the corner of the street
Love is the brunette you never thought youd meet
Love is the Red head living down the rode
Love is her green eyes that make you explode
Love is the radiant blue in her eyes that makes you melt
That  hazel color that mystifies is love

That feeling when your weary head raises from bed in the pit of an already churning stomach is love

A momentary loss of conciseness when she steels your breath away is love

Love is the reason you get up in the morning because you feel rite
Love is that little blind fool in the back of your mind that has you doing something you wouldnt otherwise do
Love is the whisper on the rain
Love is the shadow of the wind Love is the light in the sail that keeps you aloft, love is the sail
Love is the time you spent thinking about what you would do when yo got out
Love is the reason you were in there in first place
The reason the insane become again sane is love
The reason you go to the grocer at three in the morning and went back because you got the wrong flavor ice-cream is love

If you reading this right now and laughing and shaking your head because you understand this thats love
Not for me the paltry author of this simple poem or for the words contained herein but for the fact that youve been thinking about love and the one you love since you started reading this, thats love

Love conkers all things if you give it a chance to
Love crosses all boundaries if yo let it
Yet for all of this love is easily bound if you dont nurture it, if you dont feed it, if you dont take care of it, if you dont let it grow
If you dont do any of these things love dies like all things
Wrote this one back in 06
there is a robber who steels he have lot of friends are robbers to one day the robber called all his friends and made a group discussion and told  go to steel an ice cream on a maket i'll steel
from a  house and then everybody got messed up and then the robbers plane wasn't successful  
at last on one got nothing.
Tea Jun 2013
You ***** a little girl.
And I saw you as a good dad
And my familys ****** up
I feel so crazy as I look up
To the sky, and through applications
I have to find a place for her
To live, as cancer steels her life
Her big personality, as finalizing choke out of me
What I am suppose to say
And as people I care come crawling out from
Dark, I park myself in the one ray of light
Fighting to stay the person that I am
Uncle you are a tweeker, But I love you
But you steel from my dyeing grandmother
I WILL ******* KICK YOU
Right in the teeth so you wont smile at me anymore
I will die
When they burn down that old house
I will die
When she lets cancer take away everything
I will die
When I don’t know what to say and its to late ill die
Frustration  overtakes me, someone save me
Im failing. No one will help an old lady out for real?
Whats the deal. What kind of world do I live in
And rewind. He touched a little girl
My grandmas is soon to be homeless
Because they will take
What made my childhood
And my uncle finds everything
He can take and runs away
And I stand alone
Trying to find her a home
And fathers day is on the way
But I don’t know what to give him
Maybe a letter that says
Thanks for growing up
Once I didn’t need a dad
And at the end
I'm still mad
Happy please find me
Please find me
*so lost, I cant even find the right buttons, right words... ****** poem, ****** home.
Ethan Titus Apr 2014
Slaves; Every last one of us
Slaves to our emotions
Slaves to our desires
Slaves to our fears and insecurities
In our hearts, we are free
In our minds, we try so hard to spread our wings
The shackles wrap our heart and mind
We hold the only key
Our demons guard the key from us
We’re stronger only when steels ourselves with true courage
Fear holds us back
We cannot comprehend ourselves as strong enough
Some will use all they have to help others
Others become instigators
In the end though, we’re all monsters
Whether to ourselves or to others
We’re all monsters
Micheal Bevan Jul 2010
There's an ache in the stain,
A subtle sense of this pain,
That picks at a part,
That by chance is my heart.

It ticks time by blood,
The red reminder,
That for all the world,
Death is sweet and kinder.

I am a dying man,
In a dying world,
A cold and bitter thing,
Without one girl.

Who's eyes have drifted,
And her love followed suit,
And all my affection that rang so soundly,
Has since fallen mute.

And I am a stain unto myself,
And symbol of shame,
Who fears his own stabilities,
Who bears all the blame.

Mea culpa fell from his lips,
His sorrow seeped and slipped,
From the steels cold kiss,
Did that girl he ever miss,
Mea culpa from his lips,
His life seeped and slipped,
Mea culpa from his lips.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2018
.
Hovers over petals
Itching to dive, drop
Divine into essences
Of live colour, scents
Of creation, breathing
In the motion swirls,
Stemmed skywards,
Genitalia of rainbows
End.  

Honey Bee catches
Nectar dripping out airs
And steels away to hive,
Beelines to comb, where
Amber ****** becomes
What Gods sleepily crave,
Sniffed sweets of ambrosia,
Borne in the queer fluctuations
Of tiny wings, firing up vibrations.
.
Tearani C Feb 2012
Its like the sound of glass breaking,
Like fingers cold and aching,
Of frigid air that bites,
Like my chest is open,
Where a part of me is missing,
The wound bleeding and hissing.
The raw wounded edges,
Are hidden and put to ease,
By the tainted bandage of numbness,
The numbness that thieves,
Every moment of happiness,
The sharp edge to my pain.
And one day after a day,
A day and a day,
I wake and suddenly I’m drowning,
In the wake of my fears,
Its all consuming, overwhelming,
Terrified through my tears.
And panic wells up in me,
Like hot acid shooting through me,
And it fills up my chest
And my body is shaking,
As it steels my breath,
As I fall to my knees,
And the pressure keeps building
Like a bomb in my chest.
Every breath that I’m taking,
Faster-faster-faster
I-need-to-catch-it-soon…
My lungs lurch as I close my eyes,
Because I’m sitting in a shifting room.
I clamp a cold hand on my hot mouth.
My lungs heave.
My brains telling me airs escaping me
But I know better, I’m gasping.
And I see that’s more air than I could possibly need.
And I’m dizzy, I tighten my hand.
I bite down hard and hold back, until stars fade.
And my existence, everything that I am.
I put into taking only one- single- breath.
All of me praying I can slow down the next.
And hold it.
My lungs lurch a little less.
The pain slowly eases inside my chest.
I shake less intensely,
My body starts listening.
And I take a breath.
That one simple beautiful breath,
Holding me up in the ocean
like an orange life vest.
And I lie panting and covered in sweat.
With tear covered eyes,
Grasping at my aching chest.
Still alive and living with the stress
I just almost died of loneliness.
Angie Rourke Aug 2013
Am I invisible?
Are you blind?
Why does no one see me?
Do I repulse you?

Breakthrough!
I recall what I want to be again.
The feeling of belonging to something bigger than just myself.
Longing for more than emptiness….

Conversation…
Touch my soul.
Show me that we have so much in common.
Fill me with confidence and empower me.

Hold me close.
Remind me that I can loved without a word.
A kiss that steels my heart.
A touch that causes me to tremble with glee.

All the stupid rules of dating, laid down by whom?
Wait 3 days.  Don’t call me, I’ll call you.
Can’t come off as desperate, or you may be scared away.
So I still sit in my room alone and longing…  

Do you feel the same?
Are you going to sit in your room tonight and think…
Am I invisible?
Is she blind?
Does she not see me?
Do I repulse her?

No, I see you…
"where night is...romeo at a window"

i.

black rock, gold
leaf edging a page.

ii.

night drowses its
engines dark alleys
and empty cans.

iii.

the night sinks back
like a technicolor
cartoon, blue-green,
it rolls like a film, it
sings of old love
in its fiery steels.

iv.

today i am juliet
waiting for romeo
i wait forever for
one kiss while the
sky calls out
love to the dreaming
cloud.

v.

romeo, oh, romeo,
and the night's
ghostly petals
unwind their
sweetness in the
tree-lined lanes
of the moon.
As the noose of pain
begins to strangle her neck
the strings of her guitar
vibrate as they come to help

She's not sure what's happening.
It's all so **** confusing.
Her life flashed before her eyes
but this instrument helps her realize

She never understood
how to get herself out.
This music is good
it's the water in the drought

They'll never know
how much it means to her
to run plastic across steel
the rhythm of her earth

she can never explain
at least not fully
how it calms her soul
though they always wonder

to her it's that feeling
of eyes closing after long days
that beautiful feeling
of beings able to look past that gaze

it's like trying to say
the exact feeling of the way
you live and love and stay
alive and safe

don't you know
she can't tell you everything
it's not a to and fro
she's incapable of some things

this separation is difficult
don't you feel
how she just wants to scream and yell?
but instead, she, herself, steels

she shuts herself off
and begins to strum through
every note on the scale
just so she won't cry and wail

leave her be
please, just go
listen between the words you hear
look between the cracks you broke

Not everything is what it seems
but sometimes as you can see
everything that happens
is exactly what it seems to be
Feedback would be appreciated.
Robert Kirwan Jun 2010
Vehement rage pierces
Like shards
From a glass once half full;

Viscous sorrow,
Exposed remorse,
Bludgeoned pride,
Impassioned anger,
Bottomless love.

Tears caught in these cracks
Run the length of his soul,
Stretched too far to ever be the same.
You ****, you shot his baby girl.


Surely, the Harrowing of Hell wasn’t any worse than this?
Please God let this man feel hunger again,
Let him conquer the infernos,
Let him take her back from gates infinity.
She should not have to wait for her father there,
Let him wait for her.

You stole not just a moment but a lifetime
When each bullet punctured a parent’s caring nourishment;
One for each year;
Four lodged in arms and legs,
Three between shoulders,
Twice through his heart, once between her eyes.
Each one garnishing a rose red, then black.
Each one sinking clenched fingers into fleshy palms
Each one a hardened fist.
Each one,
Screaming,
Sorrow.

It takes a lot for a man to shed a tear
Every teardrop steels a cold hard revenge.
Killer beware, he will not rest his grievances
(This man’s eyes have wet his anger for five long years)
Fear the unforgiving wrath of a parent’s love,
The devil’s hand cannot help you now.
Robyn Neymour Jul 2015
Open windows,
Cool wind blows.
Passion of iron steels,
Heat flows, Snow shatters.
Intelligent minds,
Love, love, love.
The fool,
Love, love and loves.
Then we all fly,
With open arms.
Till time can't pass us by.

©
June 2015
Commuter Poet Nov 2016
The sky is like the sea

Golden stripes  
Blended with orange
Clouds like white horses
Decorating a mauve canopy

Three birds race across this magnificent vista
And in the distance flocks dance

A hazy mist lies above the sea line
And I feel lucky to be alive

Around the corner
A view more spectacular
Than I could ever imagine

Thin parcels of rainbow light
Straw coloured fields
Above the swirly firmament

I wonder what life is created there?
Only the birds know

I journey from the sea to the city
And the show of Autumn colours changes

Towers of trees
Rivers of light
Replaced by standing steels
Monuments of humanity
Some swathed in spirit
Others bedecked with hunger

A silent city
Devoid of people
Would tell its own history

But today is Friday
And the streams of humanity
Flow together
Once more
4th November 2016
Fenix Flight Jan 2015
The girl who is too freaky
even for the misfits and outcasts
she doesnt belong anywhere
so she wanders the night alone

Her eyes watering with unshed tears
but she steels herself away from the pain
She locks her emotions deep down inside
Hardening herself to the world.

Her pain went unoticed
no matter how much she screamed
no matter how much she pleaded
on her knees begging for somone to listen

She might as well have been screaming into the wind
Her words fell on uncaring deaf ears
her cries and pleads brushed under the rug
Her heart breaking into dispair filled peices.

picking up the pieces of her heart
she took them and hid them from the harsh cruel world
emotionless and empty is how she now survives
because of the world the chewed her up and spat her out.
The stars I cannot reach, they're as far as the pastor on the pulpit as he'd preach. They're as vague as mother's speech when she'd teach
Prison walls concealing me. High walls confining me
Caged in a cubicle, I'm a boisterous being
I'm at a den
I'm the lion and the prey
Words slap me back as I pray
It's a wrestling match between myself and my demons

Where if higher I'd have  undeniable intellect and reason
I am a slave of hope and a sorry case for dreams
When will I leave this place where they took my life away
Was it so horrible that crime that with my life I had to pay?

Prison bars I draw the energy and strength of the steels as I hold
I am getting out of this place wise and bold
Sunrise reminds me of regret, how I let them take my life away,
How I had to be militant,
unyielding and fight on the day
Prison bars fade so I can see the way
Rain or shine I have only pain and sorrow to claim as mine

It's a dark place in which cries echo and songs of weeping are sung
There was a number of men singing songs of sore souls and I heard the heartbeat of a woman

Moments still live and I levitate, my heart cascades and the memory remains firm and thorough,
the memory of love, the unity of family, the memory of amiability and brotherhood
The memory of the forgotten wars and the terror of crippled minds
What weapons have I to save a dying legacy?

Prison bars acknowledge the vocal emotion that is within me and free me
Yield as you realise they can't take my soul
Yield as you notice that a home could heal
Surrender for I have a worldly good in store
Shake and dither as the beating of my heart makes you uneasy
Break down as I refuse to stay down
Melt as I cry out tears as hot as lava
Give me a chance to find a lover
Prison bars give me chance to create another

I hear the wings of a bird flapping and I remember the breath of life
The song that faith inspires lives again
I sound deafening noises that eradicate the constriction
I hold it firmly til it comes crumbling down
It is an army of a new generation
Soldiers who have souls
Prison bars fall down to the floor
It is a tale it is folklore
There's more to life than death; I die no more
In a confinement concentration the first time you see somebody stabbed, *****, guards attacking the captives, blood sports: you lose yourself
The fifth time, seventeenth time you see it you just spit
Over time certain tortures and inflictions of pain
Violent acts that you witness  make you lose emotional response
You feel so much pain that many things don't hurt anymore
You become numb

They make you a monster and then they blame you for revolting
They take you through  malevolent thought-forms that they orchestrate consciously and blame you for becoming a monster
Who is the real monster?
The wise will tell you; the boys in the kitchen-the chemists
Rehabilitation centres? More like dehumanization camps for creating mind-controlled slaves and social vegetables
Jail desensitizes.
N Schlegel May 2016
She’s got the voice of a woman who knows her art,
she’s got the face of a mistress that plays with your heart
she knows, she knows, oh god she knows
that you’re not yours you’re only hers.

And that’s how she likes it
she’s in control
you’re playing with fire
of course, that’s the goal,

just for a night, one night, tonight
the need for a passion steels the soul
thoughtless logic in the physical
all betrayed by the morning light
time’s run out on our only night

It’s not because we stand alone
or that we’ve lost all that we own
life is sometimes simpler
sometimes all there is is shown.

Nothing’s that deep
Just desire bared
call us a liar
Well be prepared

Just for a night, one night, tonight.
fingers run ove’ skin and hair
thoughtless feelings gave through a stare,
all dissolved come morning light,
what an end to our only night.
Feels more like lyrics than an actual poem love the rhythm
TerryD'ArcyRyan Sep 2018
pursuing the moon with a spark of bleached light
a pendant ride along flume marks the sky for time
the roar of a constant flight warns down the line
a serpent's path in a fly by night, tightly rolling tale
speed is the means and meaner on these rails
track endures every mile marker past perpetual
escaped steam taunts with a slow hiss and miss
leader with a grinding ax and wind of the iron spit
cadence is the sound of steels sync and cast
the clank of iron on track stacked for rolling fast
passes any beast around worth a match
the wheels a seizing master of tortured might
to this man made beast now a soaring steed
down the line a tremble is the fair warning heed
vibrations count seconds to the sight of steam
a peak of bleak light blinds with a stout beam
fear stands clear this fueled Goliath feeds a need
built for a rolling fury, Rebel Engine #353




Terry D'Arcy-Ryan
Odd Odyssey Poet Jan 2019
What happened to the dreams. Where's the hope gone.
Like an old catchy tune lost through time, what happened to freedom's song.

Master, master, I call to life itself.
You left me with days long and hard.
Beat up, chained and shackled, counting the steels of being bared.
The biggest crime, being robbed of heart's wealth.

Built an empire on shaky grounds.
Now comes the storms in the distance,
Locked on my own in the center room. Hope the walls can stand the resistance.
Or whether I can find calm in the silence of dark sounds.

But what happened to me.
Holding on to all I have on a torn out Bible like my heart.
A stranger often in life's race to a quick death. Where do I find my start.
How do I see to a future with eyes that no longer see.

Fighting through my own existence and anxiety. A crushing sound in my head.
Alive for so many days but often sometimes inside I wake up dead.

Keeping the lights On in my head by the afternoon.
I were wrong to this many could say. Fearing mostly on a rising doom.

Taking a shotgun and bottle to sing through a song of sorrow.
Often seen down the chamber of the happiness I borrow.

History changing but stuck in the past. Try to move on.
Try to find the words of my song
And perhaps wake up besides a new dawn.

Still with the bit of hope I have left inside I could do more for I.
Rather than of me stuck in the past wondering why.

Than to be having black and white dreams. Painting through the dull to see a clearer picture.
Fighting with my minds eye to find it's details through a small feature.

So be the sun rises in the North, so shall where I'll point my heart to.
Where the sweet winds of freedom take the fallen leaves to,
shall I too go.

To such my freedom.
AngLe Aug 2017
Aubade

It is till season and morrow anew
once winter flower resin gown grew...
Fleeting birds that churp
humming seasons oh reveal at might
gleem Prom outer beetin eyes
sight window dawn
shall hail to you dear sir!


Ballad
Human do tell more then stars
Tower blocks sight
Lamps that make moon & mars
races fountain of light
coming back you will, see!
When I grow up
inferno hold embue fee
touch laces & cup
Belief and breath tide wake
Everything steels to stoop
I leave and fall for sea
& the ships heart
dicontented we knew
Note are grav/D/{en}

— The End —