Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
shaun Aug 2018
layers upon layers on the wall and i've bared all.
peeling the wallpaper
fresh start, better days
moving forward?
but the purple underneath is more than a colour
an emotion, time, reminder
you once stood here, too
wondering who the **** plastered these walls
the cracks are taller than me
but a mere fraction of the size of the ache i feel in my chest

half of you remains in the room next to mine,
well-polished & cared for,
but the small wooden box fails to reflect your big heart
or the hole left in mine
but
i will continue to talk to you
until my mouth dries up
or i lose my speech
for you are home
very messy, just like my thoughts
English Jam Apr 2018
Mountains on mountains erupt from the earth's chambers of burdened lava and collapse back into their hellish landscape just as quickly

Waves assault the beach in frenzied randomness, striking their mark upon the sand and washing it away in the same breath

Birds flail about, learning to sail the clouds while dolphins soar their vast expanse of golden sea

People in suits war with each other for ****** glory, sign a strip of paper agreeing to stop, then ignorantly carry on their violent pastiche

Far away, tucked behind his world of scattered phrases and pretentious works of art, the writer observes all this

P
R
O
C
R
A
S
T
I
N
A
T
I
N
G
Lovelyn Eyo Jul 13
Tis said
Love's in the air
Can you feel it
Do you grab it

Tis not shallow
But SOul-deep
It's not narrow
But vast-steep

This love is truest
Love that won't waver
This love is the answer
GOD's love
HE isn't just Love
But TheLove
The infinite
So definite
The Love of GOD-
the source of pure love
None can compare
This which strips our hearts bare
Of impurity
From now till infinity

HE is THE LOVE
The Love above all



               ©LovelynEyo
The greatest of all is GOD who's LOVE
Joanna Aug 24
Move with the cloud, expanded in the union when life is not allowed to become so loud.

Stripped to the bone with nowhere to turn. Left in the desert but not on one's own, walk toward the mountain views without skipping a beat.

Move with the cloud. Rainstorms and sunshine meet misery and mastery, making the circle complete.

Find the courage to compete as you quiet yourself of distractions, to meet the call within.

Launch out equipped to meet the day, let simplicity to win. Move with the cloud.
To read more of my writings go to:
http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
Bryan Lunsford May 2018
With a rush of burning desires,
I turn your world, as I touch you, into a ball of fire,

With our sweat that falls (in this room of degrees creeping higher and higher)
I slip off your bra, and proceed to strip you from the rest of your attire,

As with a look in your eyes that's electric as a live wire,
The grip of my hands around the curves of your frame become tighter and tighter,

And there, with thuds of the baseboard knocking at the wall, here, I treat this moment ever so dire,

Where I pull you in close--in this room full of yearning fire,

And make love to you--
With my body full of rushing--burning desires
The infinitesimally small
becomes the infinitely big.
The Universe seamless,
like a Mobius strip.
TheSaneSaloon Apr 22
Distracted, caught in a game
Smart phone, fame
This mind is led by its brain
A new life sought, now stake a claim

Gouged out my eyes,
In Jesus name
Cut out my tongue,
The rudder that steered in disdain
Pierced my eardrums,
That cynic's voice was to blame

Blind, deaf, and mute....
and feeling like never before!

So, Ill heat the iron.
Cauterize the fingers,
then the toes,
What stench?
I first melted my nose.
It should only make sense,
When one never stops to smell the rose
All that remains, belongs to prose.
I have this idea that If I lose focus, Ill lose everything. All the while, this body Im bound to is pulled to answer anything that even hints as a means to find relief.
CK Baker May 2017
like that pill bitter Sunday morning (after)
with a nauseating hack
the previously uneventful Tuesday
derailed
in surrealistic tale
with Auntie and Jack (and a quarter of fate)
in the 748
on a night flight
from Sherwood to Lore

reverberating waves
of imminent summer haze
river flats
and flower fields
fly weights
and silver bait
shredders and shysters
and open gates
(into those everlasting
and sweated journeys of hope)

bloods and strays
and florentine grays
(reminiscent of Rockwell fame)
running horses
and overgrown country lanes
morning grace
and gentle cheer
eyes clear
on the river pass
blunted paddles for those ancient
and not so willing suckers!


duke making his own way
(to the corner club)
Parsons and Poe
stream from the torn screen door
cricket cadence
and symphony of the Deere
calm and deliberate
in the soft
and silent fields

meadows open for grazing
(guineas scamper across the till)
pocket apples fill
the country ripe air
drunken bees
and chestnuts
and electric fingers
strike the surface pool
(a cedar strip wedged on the white wash dock)

baited bull heads set to cast
evenings with hearts
and Nolten Nash
may flowers bloom
across the grass
~ time unmatched ~
with blue jays
and river bends
and channel cats
...and that warm
and recurring
Coleman drift
English Jam May 2018
A delicately placed glove upon a hand, mock-gentle and pale
Marks his return
Emerging from the shell of feedback and tortured sounds

Carelessly shattering the eyes of doubters, until they softly thrash for mercy, wailing in an unearthly manner

Taking violent pleasure in crumbling love to a rubble, making the remains march to his fascist regime, his sexualised abuse, his blistering dictatorship

His tongue is dry, his jawline jagged like a strip of fresh metal, his fingers slender and spidery
  
He strides silently, yet none can miss it, seizing attention in a
heil-ish fascion

His iron grip dredges my thoughts, infecting my hopes with his overflowing venom

He thrusts his black ink that peppers my skin with thousands upon thousands of dots, encasing my body, filling my mouth, prohibiting my free will

Twisting me to spiral downwards into his imagination
I descend into the darkness

The darkness ripped from my most volatile, filthy nightmares

The darkness that laces the web of black holes, that decimates any shred of light it can find, deliberately, harshly

My centre of gravity follows him to the sewers of the abyss, a cesspool of pain and stylised sexuality undiscovered by light

Everything starts swirling around him, revolving as though he is a star and all else is the merest of planets that are his to command

I'm going down now
I'm going down
I'm going dow-
Muse the Bobbie, Learned and Scrolling Mentor
For screening this Curtain to show our Task
Basic Words you exhume; Trust, a favour
Later allow us with some Sticks to bask
It takes much swallow to go back to School
And strip us bare with Her Majesty's Words
This how you Speak - With a Rod and a Fool
But then, who cares? Forgans are for the Birds
Now all it takes to supple your behalf
Modelled by the Mad Agent done and pleased
We empty our Fillers; and bid Avast!
Upon Graduation your Skills we take heed.
Thank you so much again, Mentor availed
Success is Reward; Laziness is Failed.
Atlas May 16
I'm stuck in the mobius strip
An infinite loop

U
P
and
        O V E R
U
P
and
        O V E R

And just when it looks like the end is near
I'm back where I started
How do I escape this mobius strip?
Nothing turns this angel down
Excellence, in the flesh
And if they try, an evening gown
In satin works the best

Is beauty deeper than the skin?
Surely she'll impress
Instead of showing what's within
She forces you to guess

Eyes of gold been tarnished brown
By tears that have been wept
Dark and shining locks abound
Make up for shades not kept

Sin runs red in times of blue
Every angel's seen
Temptation's there to carry you
When you have lost your wings

Consider but the outside shell
For that is most well-known
Appearing to be straight from hell
To garnish feelings shown

How could she be so mean, you ask?
What makes her be so spiteful?
Why can't she see it's not a mask
That makes her feel delightful?

Lies frozen, held through time
In silent desperation
Hiding at the scene of crime
A ****** confrontation

To free the memories from her head
Would unleash such a fear
She'd rather end the night instead
As not to feel him near

Ah, here's the one; the big bad wolf
That's haunted all her dreams
Whom proved too well by wearing wool
All are not as they seem

But I am ****, but skin and fur
And showing her my core
And telling her the parts that hurt
While donning nothing more

He's changed her mind, she's cast astray
But I could be the shepherd
To keep the hungry wolves at bay
As countless dogs endeavored

One light can only shine so much
Before the flame has died
To reignite it just a touch
Of love might satisfy

Surely there is nothing worse
Than feeling left to dry
Entrapped within a lover's curse
And never knowing why

Well, in defense of self-defense
I must admit it's snide
To hang a face upon the fence
Until you've picked a side

It's safe, my friend, just be yourself
Strip down to nothing hidden
And let emotion feed your health
By eating the forbidden

A heart must be coaxed from its hide
With tenderness and passion
In order for the passersby
To notice what has happened

From way out here it's hard to tell
But underneath a soul
That liberates a girl of twelve
Longs for a soul to hold

To hold would mean to carry, too
When harsh times rear their heads
To be the one to follow through
When love needs to be fed

But most of all it means to dress
With confidence or loathing
Just make sure you can impress
A saint in Sinner's clothing
Brain pictures
So often we associate love directly with pain.
We accuse it of causing us
Anguish
Damage
Misery.

Irrationally deciding
To never engage
With another being
On this deeper level again.
Convinced
We must avoid such harm.

But wait—
Is this merely a way
To justify the ways in which
We allow our feelings to hold the power?
Consume us
Confuse us and
Take complete control?

Strip down your hurt
Your anger and
Your bitterness.  
You may see clearer
Recognizing
It is not the presence of love that is hurtful.

Rather
The absence of love
The loss of love
The misidentification of love
Igniting these feelings within.

Truth is,
When love is open
Honest
Pure and
Present
It is truly an invaluable treasure.
Let the Dealer take to his Gambles spend
Such that his Boots would limit to arcade
Which two-fold bets cast odds on top descend
And his Service strikes without much delay
I meant the Italian you happened to wear
And strip for Happy Golgotha delight
You wanted Admirers in Cheerful bear
Then their Smiles came true for their ****** Sight
After all, Talk Show's a Norm-for-the-Woos
Which indeed supplements the Popular
Which you desired; And asked you turn loose
To be one of those Studs Spectacular.
Happy for you. Since your own Flesh at stake
As you are now Ripe; Your Best Rind you make.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Sam Hawkins May 2013
Buildings for the most part are boxes square.
But Pentecost circles and spirals,
they turn and burn wild.

Of those who would tame
and make comprehensible any fire--
apt tongues have gone titch titch
and beautiful catch 'til words and music
and parlor diplomacies fortify
much which is untrue.

Fear has no finish, even in our dying.
The path is a cliff edge.

Let us turn, un-adult-like, and strip ourselves  
of civilized persuasions. Usher
Earth's children into primordial worlds.

Water shall love and receive us, as it always has.
The naked ground will speak up,
into our touching feet.

Listen to the tongues of the wind.
Unhinge the body, which is you.

Let all creation fly.
Tanya Mar 31
dark night is the bed
to which i come
mostly late,

strip my soul,
lay it down
covered in
memories of
black and white

nostalgia dressed
in a tear-soaked mess
wetting my pillow case

i’m falling down,
asleep;

dark night
is the bed
in which you
no longer wait
for me to come
mostly late.
soon
Ryan O'Leary Aug 3
Directly above the dining table,
suspended from a ceiling anchor,
was a gooey, gluey, fly strip.

Fountained from a cardboard
green cylinder, resembling a
shotgun cartridge, fired.

The flies, numbering too many
to mention, were a metaphorical
symbolism, for the lead pellets.

Underneath, on the same axis,
was the serendipity of their
demise, a crumbed bread board.
Marco Buschini Nov 2016
The pulsating, pearl moon
Harbours the last remnants of romance,
Scintillating, in the valourous sky,
As I surrender to call upon her spirit
To bring her back to me.
I longingly strip, craving the vivacity of her caress.
Irresistible, I would yield to the perpetual
Power of her touch.
Immersed in the shadowy depths,
Rippling serenities of thought.
I glimpse at her reflective soul,
Shimmering upon the ravenous river,
Emanating from the stars
In all their graceful radiance.
Her heart illuminates
The benevolent evening.
The breath of inevitability
Stings my skin, as I dress,
Firing my arrows of impatience
Disconsolately, into the shivering azure,
Hoping for a way
To penetrate her very being.
Andrew May 2017
When I'm with other people
Their mere presence reflects my character
Their strength validates me as an individual
Friends sneak away and doubt creeps in
Who am I without my companion justifiers?
Nobody
So I'm going to build an army
And we're going to storm the walls of hatred
They'll throw their bombs
******, ******, ****
Usually more specialized weapons appear as well
All trying to use shame to strip us of our very humanity
We disarm their shame with pride
Not pride in the way one is born or lives
But pride in the face of those who tell us we should feel ashamed
Those hate filled walls will be trampled by our friendship
Once we've infiltrated the pitch black city
We'll seize their holy temple
And find me
Naked, crying, alone
We'll pick me up and dust me off
After all, I have an army to build
george glass Dec 2015
my childhood was removed from me
inside of a blue mustang
and what remained after that
I tried to barter off the highest bidder
but I grew,
not up,
but forward
further away
slowly releasing
hands of defiance
fists chock full of hopeless words
like anger, the flavor that aches the bone,
the cold kind,
more barren than the green of Christmas lights
glimmering off the icy veneer of a white picket fence
overeager, in the apathy of theatrics,
to strip off the remainder
because the empty feeling that followed
might one day
make a decent poem
Pagan Paul Jun 2018
.
Standing atop this lonely hill,
my heart slow, breath near still,
tall and straight, arms out wide,
I summon the Wind from the skies.

When she arrives nobody knows
how much of her passion blows,
whispering zephyr, soft cool breeze,
or gale to strip the leaves from trees.


© Pagan Paul (18/06/18)
.
Kara Jean Dec 2016
What the **** am I doing with my life
There is no gain
Would you like a large fry with that pain
Thanks, come again
She seems miserable and glowing
Contoured on smile
Forcing her to be happy
Counter tops seem befitting tonight
God, I lost my light
Life seems to strip you naked
Bare and thin, it's always in
Lust will **** you dry
Leaving you asking why
She sweats smudged transgressions
He pushes deeper in
His ****** tension draws her sin
She never was meant to win
You can trip and take me down
You may hurt and make me cry
Even back me in a corner
Take it all from me, you’ll try

Make this pain inside my brain
Till the water works run dry
I’m confused or now insane
How I was when I was high

Spit at me and give me shame
Say that all I do is lie
Just a pawn inside your game
Hell is where I’ll burn and fry

Strip me till I have no name
In this shell to rot and die
Try to make me something plain
But will never say ‘goodbye’

Acting weak is how I feign
Have for you a big surprise
Nothing for you but disdain
Keep me down or so you tried

Not pathetic or so tame
Life I’m taking back is mine
Thunder roaring is the train
You’re a joke and one that's wry

No more constantly a strain
As I look out at the sky
Cork that’s popped from crisp champagne
Rising up and now I fly
Written: December 8, 2018

All rights reserved.
[Trochaic trimeter format with masculine ending]

This was written inspirationally and as a
tribute to a friend of mine who was dealing
with an unhealthy relationship and is now
finding her way out of it.
Next page