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Skip Ramsey Nov 2014
The hiss of wet road meeting tread,
Wisps of fog reaching up to mother cloud,
Pin ****** of rain on windshield,
Twang of guitar joining with singer in song,
Morning grey surrounds me.

Pale yellow headlights meet me,
Whining as they pass,
Restaurants beckoning me,
Promising warmth food company,
Wipers warning me away,
Morning grey surrounds me.

Destination is known,
Sleep wants what it's owed,
Obligation is to be honored instead,
Fatigue is my companion,
Soon I will start to repay them,
Morning grey surrounds me.

Morning grey surrounds me...
Northeast weather in fall in winter brings such a change to everything.
In through the nose
Breathe out from the mouth,
Breath the same as the air that surrounds

Warmth lines my throat,
My feet lead the way
The doors at the end seem a mile away

Sleepy eyes and weak shoulders
I lean to the right,
Re-balance my weight
To the other side

June blows through my hair
Oh, how freedom feels close
I breathe it in again,
Take in the finality of the end
Just how many days?
Only ten

To think back to a time
In the recent past
I was young and
I was wrong and
I was going way too fast

I do recall the door that
I slammed upon the past
And how the future was contained
In honey comb window glass

To take the first steps in
On uneven pavement,
Just walking was
A balancing act of
Who I was and
Who I thought I should be

In through the nose
Breathe out from the mouth
Breath a lot warmer
Than the air that surrounds

Crisp leaves are starting to fall by,
Little did I know, so was I

The year it did pass
I’m baffled as to how
This small, naïve girl
Grew into who she is now
Frail and fragile she was
And a little bit pale
Wrapped in a small, blue dress
With surrounding wind so stale

With big eyes full of wonder
Yet taken down by influence
Straight hair and summer
And a loss of innocence

And it’s lost against her will
And taken by the influential acts of all
How could someone live
In such a big world and not at least feel small?

Trace the patterns of the year
That lie beyond horizon and fear
Try to plan what happens next
And think how much better
Things will get

In through the nose
Breathe out from the mouth
Breath is scalding hot
Against the air that surrounds

Her mind swims with
Confusion and doubt
But somehow she lives
Through the year and gets out

She’s changed by the boy
With the tattoos and blonde hair
And hurt by the girls who
Pretended she wasn’t there

She grins and she bears it
And is still tied together
But the freezing and the thawing
Is beginning to weather

The knots in the rope
That bind herself as a whole
It starts breaking apart
As she breaks the mold

Her mother still assures her
The whole entire truth
Yet she’s still trapped
Among the tangled bindings of youth

Nothing anyone could say
Would make her change her mind
Cause she was so enveloped
That she didn’t realize
She was wasting precious time

In through the nose
Breathe out from the mouth
Breath is just a bit warmer
Than the air that surrounds

At this point
It seems as though all of this is right
She can’t believe the strides she’s made,
How she’s managed every night

Of falling into bed
With a pillow damp from tears
Picking up an old guitar
And tearing down her fears

Yet still scared to show that boy
What she really thinks
He moves on and so does she
But her feelings still pour
Atop lined paper
In melodies and blue ink

Summer flies by in a flash of sun
And so does all of a year
Until it all hits her in March
And she starts to release
Her remaining fear

Don’t get her wrong
Fear still lies at the base
Of her very being,
But she shakes it off
Through merely song
And she’s home,
Back to the beginning

She no longer senses
A need to try
When she finds herself in that home
The others enable her to fly

They lift her spirits
With honesty
And the idea of
I don’t care,
So she takes a plunge into the water
And lets down her long hair

She tucks a pink flower
Behind her ear
And listens to their stories
Of glory and pain and triumph
And plain and utter fear

What’s so beautiful about this is
The fact that the same is done for her
With a feeling of true acceptance
Comes the healing of the burns
And the scars that were left
By the pain of days darker than
The darkest sky

She’s through with all the questions
That incessantly ask why

There’s fear for the future
And some regret from the past
But you have to live now
To make it all last
It goes fast

In through the nose
Breathe out from the mouth
Breath is perfectly aligned
With the air that surrounds

She glances to the left
And squints to see
The people who knew all along,
The people that guided her to be free

Straight up ahead,
As far as the eye can see,
Staggered blue and white
And scurrying, young feet

Anticipation for her name
To be called
And the slightest fear that
She just might fall

They hand her the scroll with
A shake and a smile
And those past years she’s lived
Race through her mind for miles

She’s dumbfounded and exuberant,
Yet sad to get out,
But amazed at her strength
In overcoming the doubt

Rows and rows of the people
Blue white, white blue
That feel all the same emotions as you
Her eyes are wide and bright at the sight
Of the white square
And dangling tassel
Floating past the sunlight

In through the nose
Breathe out from the mouth
Breath of relief
Pushes through the air that surrounds

She walks on the same pavement
That held her up back then
But it’s sturdier
And makes more sense
And won’t let her fall in

Tonight she dances
In a dress,
A dress that suits her well
And she feels this sense
Of everything is going to be okay,
She can tell.
More than a dream
As I stare into your eyes
More than a cover
Overshadowed by your name

Don’t cry for me
Don’t leave me now
Hope surrounds them,
Doubt surrounds me
Am I true?
Fear is life
But you’re fearless
Lost control, keep
Holding on
Don’t cry for me

Flying, you’re flying
As I stay on the ground
And watch
More than a girl
Overshadowed by your name,
Your creations, your foundation

Don’t cry for me
Don’t leave me now
Hope surrounds them
Doubt surrounds me
Am I true?
Fear is life
But you’re fearless
Lost control, keep
Holding on
Don’t cry for me

You used to huddle near me
Warmed by my smile
I knew without a care in the world
You knew me through my silence
You liked me through my faults
You cared for me through my depressions
At some times
You even loved me, without a doubt
But now

Don’t cry for me
Don’t leave me now
Hope surrounds them
Doubt surrounds me
Am I true? Am I here?
Fear is life
But you’re fearless
Lost control, keep
Holding on

Don’t cry for me
Don’t cry for me
Don’t leave me now
Cause you know, deep down
I can’t do this anymore
Don’t cry for me
Austin Barlow Apr 2015
Science is a wonderful thing, it is
Science is here, there, and surrounding all.
From the mines below to the rocketships above
Technology surrounds us, one and all
We have mixed substances to make concrete
And use concrete to create our buildings.  
Science is such a magnificent thing
And for a couple reasons you see.  
Today, lasers that can destroy aircrafts
‘Morrow even colonizing planets
But one thing is true and one thing is real,
Science is really our true compassion.  
As we search for extraterrestrials
As we look towards spatial expansion.
First sonnet written ever
Benji James May 2017
You were taken way to soon
I guess God has big plans for you
How can I deal with these feelings
How can I concentrate
When I don't understand
Why you, were taken away
I'd come and join you tonight
Up in that starry sky
But I know you'd want me
To keep on living my life
So I promise you I'll fulfil my dreams
Just like I told you
There's still so much I haven't given
So tonight this one is for you

You're still here within my heart
You're in my thoughts
(I know you can hear me)
You're in my dreams
(I still see you)
Oh I hope you hear my prayers
Because every word I say to you
You know it's true

I still feel you
All around me
The warmth you gave
Still, surrounds me
The light you gave
Can still be found in me
Just gotta look deep down
To see you're still here with me

Sometimes I cry myself to sleep
Sometimes it's hard
Just to make it through the week
Nothing has ever cut this deep
Why did you leave us
Why did God take you away
Why couldn't he have just let you stay
I question that every day
I know you'll still guide me,
I know if I'm lost.
You will find me
I feel your presence inside me
You'll always be here to stay
Nobody can ever take that away

You're still here within my heart
You're in my thoughts
(I know you can hear me)
You're in my dreams
(I still see you)
Oh I hope you hear my prayers
Because every word I say to you
You know it's true

I still feel you
All around me
The warmth you gave
Still, surrounds me
The light you gave
Can still be found in me
Just gotta look deep down
To see you're still here with me

The memories never fade
I can still clearly see your face
And the way you assured me
Everything's gonna be okay
I remember your embrace
The smiles you always gave
All the laughs and tears we made
I remember all your advice
Didn't even have to think twice
You pick me up
When I need you the most
You may have been, taken away
But I know you're here in me

You're still here within my heart
You're in my thoughts
(I know you can hear me)
You're in my dreams
(I still see you)
Oh I hope you hear my prayers
Because every word I say to you
You know it's true

I still feel you
All around me
The warmth you gave
Still, surrounds me
The light you gave
Can still be found in me
Just gotta look deep down
To see you're still here with me

I'm still torn,
That you're gone
But I know
you're always gonna be
Right here with me
I look to the sky
When I need some advice
Because I can still hear your voice
It speaks from deep inside
Telling me everything's
gonna be alright
I know you're out there
I know you care
Oh this one is written for you
I dedicate this song to you

You're still here within my heart
You're in my thoughts
(I know you can hear me)
You're in my dreams
(I still see you)
Oh I hope you hear my prayers
Because every word I say to you
You know it's true

I still feel you
All around me
The warmth you gave
Still, surrounds me
The light you gave
Can still be found in me
Just gotta look deep down
To see you're still here with me

I miss you
You'll always be in my heart
Hope you're feeling all my love
I never have to say goodbye
Because I'll see you on the other side
Up in that starry sky
In the starry sky
In the starry sky

©2017 Written By Benji James
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
You can feel it spinning
                                         fast
the Chinese, Japanese, American and European junk
orbiting at several thousand miles per hour could
                                                           ­                             punch
a hole in your armor, future. Thanksgiving passes, then Christmas.
A nuclear detonation, we absorb that fact. The scientist in us
delays sadness by recording observations. What is is,
sorrow's for tomorrow.

By reducing probabilities to near zero I hope to avoid sorrow.
In yr suburb.
In history when there were many fewer people we still found reason
to cross space, explore, trade and war. Now
                                                             ­                 overpopulation
may not be the problem but food and water shortages
get our attention.
                              I have Korf's fears.
And hear what I want to hear.

Some hear singing, some hear speeches or complaining.
Martin Luther King sang his complaints, dreamed of a brotherly nation
which came to pass, spinning fast, past Thanksgivings, past jailings
into reconnaissance, small wars, drones, renaissance, inventions.
At the border,
                         where the Juaristas fought Maximilian:
Benito Juarez (1806-1872) Zapotec Amerindian who served five terms as president of Mexico. He was the first Mexican leader who did not have a military background and also the first full-blooded indigenous person to lead a country in the western hemisphere in over 300 years. For resisting French occupation, overthrowing the Empire, and restoring the Republic, Juarez is regarded as Mexicoxs greatest and most beloved leader. 

Each soldier chooses what war at what border, or just
                                                            ­                                   shows up
spinning with the planet.
The neighborhood and surrounding nature is orderly.
But always there is implied force, violence holding it together,
                                                       ­                                                       chaos
is contained
kept out of the playground, government buildings, childrenxs games
but lies within
the force maintaining order, a spinning tumor, a gyroscope of
                                                              ­                                                inertia.
The force of the spinning, the speed of the force bring one to one's
      death
seasons, weather, earth.
                                         While the emperor's being beheaded
enduring seeds are discovered and invented, cross-fertilized and bred.
Corn, yams, potatoes, sunflowers, rice.
                                                           ­       Food is life and a good study,
useful discipline
                           daily meditation.
                                                     ­   The fighting man protects the farmer
and the farmer feeds the fighting man.
They elect the governor
                                        who serves the people. Peace out.

Peace and war are transitory manifestations of spinning
electrons, planets.
                               The sun's a nuclear detonation, essential
to spring and planting. Food is life. Seeds endure
if man goes to his daily discipline. If woman is man.
Birth and death
                           together are orderly, the border can be known,
voluntarily. How we live together, by prayer or force,
is our story.

Knowledge
from laboratory to starry corridor keeps us very
                                                            ­                         versed.
Did Juaristas consider the rights of animals not to be eaten?
Not during that spinning.
                                              And perform the history that surrounds us.
All that can be done
is written in the spinning:
"The people of the land, the Indian farmers of North America - like their counterparts in Mesoamerica, the Andean region, and the Amazon - have continuously cultivated maize, beans, squash and other crops for more than five thousand years. One of the salient features of their traditional farming systems is the high degree of biodiversity. These traditional farming systems have emerged over centuries of cultural and biological evolution, and they represent the accumulated experience of indigenous farmers interacting with the environment without access to external inputs, capital or scientific knowledge. In Latin America alone, more than 2.5 million hectares under traditional agriculture in the form of raised fields, polycultures, agroforestry systems and the like document indigenous farmers' successful adaptations to difficult environments."
--Wikipedia,  "Benito Juarez"
-- Altieri , Miguel A., Foreword to Enduring Seeds: Native American Agriculture and Wild Plant Conservation, by Gary Paul Nabhan, The University of Arizona Press, 1989

www.ronnowpoetry.com
Louise Smith May 2014
I am blue
my skin blue
my hair blue
my blood blue

an ocean of blue lace
surrounds my body

I traipse through my oil world
all I can see is blue

blue tinted lenses branded into my face

like a cow I am branded with your blue
you are my owner
I am meat you sell on after you **** it
you raised me up to turn me blue
Shazz Manji Feb 2014
A young she wolf is born
Scorched fur of molten lava and heated coal
Flames consume her path
She leaves a soot trail
Ember eyes shine the spark of life
The animal instinct to hunt
And so she will hunt
Through the hell that surrounds her
The hell she creates
A paradise of flames
“The Fire in this Wolf lives”
Amoy Mar 2018
Birdbox
                by Amoy

I live on your social acceptance of me
You keep my face buried, my eyes blind and my mind occupied
You draw me in, I loose myself, trying to find myself
I can't hear the birds chirp, I can't see the sunrise
You are always here but yet I'm afraid and I’m alone
The happiest people living their "best lives" surrounds me
Telling me to see, telling me I need to be apart of it
Don't you want to be like me?
Live feeds, Status updates
Selfies, likes
Love me, don't scroll without a comment
Live streams, fake news, fake friends
Program-me, I need your feeds
It's not just a movie, it's real life get a clue
Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,
Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,
I have lived o'er my lives without number,
I have sounded all things with my sight;
And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.

I have whirled with the earth at the dawning,
When the sky was a vaporous flame;
I have seen the dark universe yawning
Where the black planets roll without aim,
Where they roll in their horror unheeded, without knowledge or lustre or name.

I had drifted o'er seas without ending,
Under sinister grey-clouded skies,
That the many-forked lightning is rending,
That resound with hysterical cries;
With the moans of invisible daemons, that out of the green waters rise.

I have plunged like a deer through the arches
Of the hoary primoridal grove,
Where the oaks feel the presence that marches,
And stalks on where no spirit dares rove,
And I flee from a thing that surrounds me, and leers through dead branches above.

I have stumbled by cave-ridden mountains
That rise barren and bleak from the plain,
I have drunk of the fog-foetid fountains
That ooze down to the marsh and the main;
And in hot cursed tarns I have seen things, I care not to gaze on again.

I have scanned the vast ivy-clad palace,
I have trod its untenanted hall,
Where the moon rising up from the valleys
Shows the tapestried things on the wall;
Strange figures discordantly woven, that I cannot endure to recall.

I have peered from the casements in wonder
At the mouldering meadows around,
At the many-roofed village laid under
The curse of a grave-girdled ground;
And from rows of white urn-carven marble, I listen intently for sound.

I have haunted the tombs of the ages,
I have flown on the pinions of fear,
Where the smoke-belching Erebus rages;
Where the jokulls loom snow-clad and drear:
And in realms where the sun of the desert consumes what it never can cheer.

I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
I was old in those epochs uncounted
When I, and I only, was vile;
And Man, yet untainted and happy, dwelt in bliss on the far Arctic isle.

Oh, great was the sin of my spirit,
And great is the reach of its doom;
Not the pity of Heaven can cheer it,
Nor can respite be found in the tomb:
Down the infinite aeons come beating the wings of unmerciful gloom.

Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,
Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,
I have lived o'er my lives without number,
I have sounded all things with my sight;
And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.
Anna Rose Sep 2015
She lays awake,
Trembling in the dark
Whispers echoing around,
Cracking the glass
Shiny liquids fall slowly
From eyelids to floor
Hopelessly awaiting
For a knock on the door
The darkness surrounds
Each and every soul
The girl's heart melting
For it couldn't bear breaking
As the light made its way
Through the cracked glass
The tiny fetal form
Breathed in a rasp
Soon the weak heart
Slowed the last beat
The cracked window opened
Spreading the heat
But the darkened eyes
Light had no more
The soul had wandered
To the deadly shore
Remember all you see each day
All the things that are around you and
Keep close to all the friends you have
in the bubble that surrounds you

Simple gestures, little things
The stuff that's out of sight, most days
it flows on by without a look
in the bubble that surrounds you

Don't ever take for granted anything you have and hold
It's only through respect and love, that straw can turn to gold
You're my first though in the morning dear, up with the rising son
You're the last thing that I think about, when the moon says day is done

I never say "I love you" dear
not as much as I guess I should do
After time it is an unsaid thing
although you know I still do

A gentle kiss upon the lips as you are on your way
forgotten in the winds of time, but just enough to say
the words now left unspoken as we trundle through our life
Now, a touch, or look's "I love you for saying yes to be my wife"

Breathing, seeing, hearing things
the smell of coffee brewing
things we never think about
and vows that need renewing

There'll be a day when I wake up
And you just might not be there
If I don't treat you like I ought to now
I have to show you that I care

Don't ever take for granted anything you have and hold
It's only through respect and love, that straw can turn to gold
You're my first though in the morning dear, up with the rising son
You're the last thing that I think about, when the moon says day is done
King Panda May 2016
rain
mud and grass
common prayer
good weather
good people
art
and umbrella bags
because who wants to
get wet?
unless it’s with you
I could
I would
jump into the lake
for that rock
sew
cleanse
initials made in sharpie
and unclamp
we run
around the park
the afternoon surrounds us
the woman in the bikini
passes
and we laugh
iced tea
decaf coffee
cake without teeth
and that airstream camper
you always wanted
I could live in your
backyard
I could live somewhere
not here
in silver
prostrated
with my back to the
moon
like dead
like a mummy
like a mirror
and life would make sense
life would be beautiful
like this run
with perfect amounts of sweat
and conversation that runs
waves in the sand
and tells the squirrels
goodnight, tractor
see you tomorrow

and the land that billows
is dug up
and chewed
like a goodnight poem
this run with you
takes rest
on my soul
and I crack my ribs
to take the spring’s
twilight
aroma
Devanshi Tomar Oct 2016
'Let her fly;
High into the sky.
Let her spread her wings,
And hum the songs which she loves to sing.

Let her see the world wide and clear;
Let her demolish all her fear.
Let her be the light that surrounds the world,
And have that royal air that melts people away with the wave of her curl.

Let her be one of a kind;
Let her be the girl that shines.
She will be the star of everyone's eye;
For that let her over come her cover of shy.

Finally let her go;
And never let her touch that ground low.
Nigel Morgan Nov 2012
As a woman, and in the service of my Lord the Emperor Wu, my life is governed by his command. At twenty I was summoned to this life at court and have made of it what I can, within the limitations of the courtesan I am supposed to be, and the poet I have now become. Unlike my male counterparts, some of whom have lately found seclusion in the wilderness of rivers and mountains, I have only my personal court of three rooms and its tiny garden and ornamental pond. But I live close to the surrounding walls of the Zu-lin Gardens with its astronomical observatories and bold attempts at recreating illusions of celebrated locations in the Tai mountains. There, walking with my cat Xi-Lu in the afternoons, I imagine a solitary life, a life suffused with the emptiness I crave.
 
In the hot, dry summer days my maid Mei-Lim and I have sought a temporary retreat in the pine forests above Lingzhi. Carried in a litter up the mountain paths we are left in a commodious hut, its open walls making those simple pleasures of drinking, eating and sleeping more acute, intense. For a few precious days I rest and meditate, breathe the mountain air and the resinous scents of the trees. I escape the daily commerce of the court and belong to a world that for the rest of the year I have to imagine, the world of the recluse. To gain the status of the recluse, open to my male counterparts, is forbidden to women of the court. I am woman first, a poet and calligrapher second. My brother, should he so wish, could present a petition to revoke his position as a man of letters, an official commentator on the affairs of state. But he is not so inclined. He has already achieved notoriety and influence through his writing on the social conditions of town and city. He revels in a world of chatter, gossip and intrigue; he appears to fear the wilderness life.  
 
I must be thankful that my own life is maintained on the periphery. I am physically distant from the hub of daily ceremonial. I only participate at my Lord’s express command. I regularly feign illness and fatigue to avoid petty conflict and difficulty. Yet I receive commissions I cannot waver: to honour a departed official; to celebrate a son’s birth to the Second Wife; to fulfil in verse my Lord’s curious need to know about the intimate sorrows of his young concubines, their loneliness and heartache.
 
Occasionally a Rhapsody is requested for an important visitor. The Emperor Wu is proud to present as welcome gifts such poetic creations executed in fine calligraphy, and from a woman of his court. Surely a sign of enlightment and progress he boasts! Yet in these creations my observations are parochial: early morning frost on the cabbage leaves in my garden; the sound of geese on their late afternoon flight to Star Lake; the disposition of the heavens on an Autumn night. I live by the Tao of Lao-Tzu, perceiving the whole world from my doorstep.
 
But I long for the reclusive life, to leave this court for my family’s estate in the valley my peasant mother lived as a child. At fourteen she was chosen to sustain the Emperor’s annual wish for young girls to be groomed for concubinage. Like her daughter she is tall, though not as plain as I; she put her past behind her and conceded her adolescence to the training required by the court. At twenty she was recommended to my father, the court archivist, as second wife. When she first met this quiet, dedicated man on the day before her marriage she closed her eyes in blessing. My father taught her the arts of the library and schooled her well. From her I have received keen eyes of jade green and a prestigious memory, a memory developed she said from my father’s joy of reading to her in their private hours, and before she could read herself. Each morning he would examine her to discover what she had remembered of the text read the night before. When I was a little child she would quote to me the Confucian texts on which she had been ****** schooled, and she then would tell me of her childhood home. She primed my imagination and my poetic world with descriptions of a domestic rural life.
 
Sometimes in the arms of my Lord I have freely rhapsodized in chusi metre these delicate word paintings of my mother’s home. She would say ‘We will walk now to the ruined tower beside the lake. Listen to the carolling birds. As the sparse clouds move across the sky the warm sun strokes the winter grass. Across the deep lake the forests are empty. Now we are climbing the narrow steps to the platform from which you and I will look towards the sun setting in the west. See the shadows are lengthening and the air becomes colder. The blackbird’s solitary song heralds the evening.  Look, an owl glides silently beneath us.’
 
My Lord will then quote from Hsieh Ling-yun,.
 
‘I meet sky, unable to soar among clouds,
face a lake, call those depths beyond me.’
 
And I will match this quotation, as he will expect.
 
‘Too simple-minded to perfect Integrity,
and too feeble to plough fields in seclusion.’
 
He will then gaze into my eyes in wonder that this obscure poem rests in my memory and that I will decode the minimal grammar of these early characters with such poetry. His characters: Sky – Bird – Cloud – Lake – Depth. My characters: Fool – Truth – Child – Winter field – Isolation.
 
Our combined invention seems to take him out of his Emperor-self. He is for a while the poet-scholar-sage he imagines he would like to be, and I his foot-sore companion following his wilderness journey. And then we turn our attention to our bodies, and I surprise him with my admonitions to gentleness, to patience, to arousing my pleasure. After such poetry he is all pleasure, sensitive to the slightest touch, and I have my pleasure in knowing I can control this powerful man with words and the stroke of my fingertips rather than by delicate youthful beauty or the guile and perverse ingenuity of an ****** act. He is still learning to recognise the nature and particularness of my desires. I am not as his other women: who confuse pleasure with pain.
 
Thoughts of my mother. Without my dear father, dead ten years, she is a boat without a rudder sailing on a distant lake. She greets each day as a gift she must honour with good humour despite the pain of her limbs, the difficulty of walking, of sitting, of eating, even talking. Such is the hurt that governs her ageing. She has always understood that my position has forbidden marriage and children, though the latter might be a possibility I have not wished it and made it known to my Lord that it must not be. My mother remains in limbo, neither son or daughter seeking to further her lineage, she has returned to her sister’s home in the distant village of her birth, a thatched house of twenty rooms,
 
‘Elms and willows shading the eaves at the back,
and, in front,  peach and plum spread wide.
 
Villages lost across mist-haze distances,
Kitchen smoke drifting wide-open country,
 
Dogs bark deep among the back roads out here
And cockerels crow from mulberry treetops.
 
My esteemed colleague T’ao Ch’ien made this poetry. After a distinguished career in government service he returned to the life of a recluse-farmer on his family farm. Living alone in a three-roomed hut he lives out his life as a recluse and has endured considerable poverty. One poem I know tells of him begging for food. His world is fields-and-gardens in contrast to Hsieh Ling-yin who is rivers-and-mountains. Ch’ien’s commitment to the recluse life has brought forth words that confront death and the reality of human experience without delusion.
 
‘At home here in what lasts, I wait out life.’
 
Thus my mother waits out her life, frail, crumbling more with each turning year.
 
To live beyond the need to organise daily commitments due to others, to step out into my garden and only consider the dew glistening on the loropetalum. My mind is forever full of what is to be done, what must be completed, what has to be said to this visitor who will today come to my court at the Wu hour. Only at my desk does this incessant chattering in the mind cease, as I move my brush to shape a character, or as the needle enters the cloth, all is stilled, the world retreats; there is the inner silence I crave.
 
I long to see with my own eyes those scenes my mother painted for me with her words. I only know them in my mind’s eye having travelled so little these past fifteen years. I look out from this still dark room onto my small garden to see the morning gathering its light above the rooftops. My camellia bush is in flower though a thin frost covers the garden stones.
 
And so I must imagine how it might be, how I might live the recluse life. How much can I jettison? These fine clothes, this silken nightgown beneath the furs I wrap myself in against the early morning air. My maid is sleeping. Who will make my tea? Minister to me when I take to my bed? What would become of my cat, my books, the choice-haired brushes? Like T’ao Ch’ien could I leave the court wearing a single robe and with one bag over my shoulders? Could I walk for ten days into the mountains? I would disguise myself as a man perhaps. I am tall for a woman, and though my body flows in broad curves there are ways this might be assuaged, enough perhaps to survive unmolested on the road.
 
Such dreams! My Lord would see me returned within hours and send a servant to remain at my gate thereafter. I will compose a rhapsody about a concubine of standing, who has even occupied the purple chamber, but now seeks to relinquish her privileged life, who coverts the uncertainty of nature, who would endure pain and privation in a hut on some distant mountain, who will sleep on a mat on its earth floor. Perhaps this will excite my Lord, light a fire in his imagination. As though in preparation for this task I remove my furs, I loose the knot of my silk gown. Naked, I reach for an old under shift letting it fall around my still-slender body and imagine myself tying the lacings myself in the open air, imagine making my toilet alone as the sun appears from behind a distant mountain on a new day. My mind occupies itself with the tiny detail of living thus: bare feet on cold earth, a walk to nearby stream, the gathering of berries and mountain herbs, the making of fire, the washing of my few clothes, imagining. Imagining. To live alone will see every moment filled with the tasks of keeping alive. I will become in tune with my surroundings. I will take only what I need and rely on no one. Dreaming will end and reality will be the slug on my mat, the bone-chilling incessant mists of winter, the thorn in the foot, the wild winds of autumn. My hands will become stained and rough, my long limbs tanned and scratched, my delicate complexion freckled and wind-pocked, my hair tied roughly back. I will become an animal foraging on a dank hillside. Such thoughts fill me with deep longing and a ****** desire to be tzu-jan  - with what surrounds me, ablaze with ****** self.
 
It is not thought the custom of a woman to hold such desires. We are creatures of order and comfort. We do not live on the edge of things, but crave security and well-being. We learn to endure the privations of being at the behest of others. Husbands, children, lovers, our relatives take our bodies to them as places of comfort, rest and desire. We work at maintaining an ordered flow of existence. Whatever our station, mistress or servant we compliment, we keep things in order, whether that is the common hearth or the accounts of our husband’s court. Now my rhapsody begins:
 
A Rhapsody on a woman wishing to live as a recluse
 
As a lady of my Emperor’s court I am bound in service.
My court is not my own, I have the barest of means.
My rooms are full of gifts I am forced barter for bread.
Though the artefacts of my hands and mind
Are valued and widely renown,
Their commissioning is an expectation of my station,
With no direct reward attached.
To dress appropriately for my Lord’s convocations and assemblies
I am forced to negotiate with chamberlains and treasurers.
A bolt of silk, gold thread, the services of a needlewoman
Require formal entreaties and may lie dormant for weeks
Before acknowledgement and release.
 
I was chosen for my literary skills, my prestigious memory,
Not for my ****** beauty, though I have been called
‘Lady of the most gracious movement’ and
My speaking voice has clarity and is capable of many colours.
I sing, but plainly and without passion
Lest I interfere with the truth of music’s message.
 
Since I was a child in my father’s library
I have sought out the works of those whose words
Paint visions of a world that as a woman
I may never see, the world of the wilderness,
Of rivers and mountains,
Of fields and gardens.
Yet I am denied by my *** and my station
To experience passing amongst these wonders
Except as contrived imitations in the palace gardens.
 
Each day I struggle to tease from the small corner
Of my enclosed eye-space some enrichment
Some elemental thing to colour meaning:
To extend the bounds of my home
Across the walls of this palace
Into the world beyond.
 
I have let it be known that I welcome interviews
With officials from distant courts to hear of their journeying,
To gather word images if only at second-hand.
Only yesterday an emissary recounted
His travels to Stone Lake in the far South-West,
Beyond the gorges of the Yang-tze.
With his eyes I have seen the mountains of Suchan:
With his ears I have heard the oars crackling
Like shattering jade in the freezing water.
Images and sounds from a thousand miles
Of travel are extract from this man’s memory.
 
Such a sharing of experience leaves me
Excited but dismayed: that I shall never
Visit this vast expanse of water and hear
Its wild cranes sing from their floating nests
In the summer moonlight.
 
I seek to disappear into a distant landscape
Where the self and its constructions of the world may
Dissolve away until nothing remains but the no-mind.
My thoughts are full of the practicalities of journeying
Of an imagined location, that lonely place
Where I may be at one with myself.
Where I may delight in the everyday Way,
Myself among mist and vine, rock and cave.
Not this lady of many parts and purposes whose poems must
Speak of lives, sorrow and joy, pleasure and pain
Set amongst personal conflict and intrigue
That in containing these things, bring order to disorder;
Salve the conscience, bathe hurt, soothe sleight.
Benji James Sep 2018
Could it be
I've never seen
Beauty in me
Took time to reflect
On all that I am
I haven't shared everything I can
On this soul-searching road
The winds and turns
Each corner holds secrets
Each road taken holds challenges untold
Which road you choose is how life unfolds
Some are rougher, Sometimes it's smooth sailing
All the time I've invested in this world
I've come to realise
Each moment is just a piece strung together
In this story called life
I have no wisdom in my words
All I know is I've survived
Yeah, still alive.

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

A man made up of scars
Each marks a tale
Each a reminder of lessons learned
I've been through the ringer
Still standing, And I'll still fight
Until my last breath drains all my might
No matter what the world throws my way
I'll always say...          
"Challenge accepted."
Never gave up
I still dream
I still fight my way
Through each day
No matter the odds stacked against me
I'm a raise my head accept the challenges met

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

Nothing is going to hold me down
I'm going to dance like a warrior
All these bad habits couldn't be sorrier
All these battles I've won
Some left me scarred
But through this my skin became hard
Got a thick skin, Never cut through it
Got a good heart, shines through in my art
Belief only takes you so far
Have faith, it'll take you beyond the stars
They say wisdom can't be found in bars
In unlikely places, you can find yourself
And accept it is all you are
All that you've become
Water washes over me
Setting me free
All this dirt cleansed from me
You haven't even seen the best from me

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer.

Don't make me a role model
That I can never fulfil
All I wanna be is an Inspiration
Show people if they stick to it
They can make it
They won't fail if they fight tooth and nail
Revealing truths through poetic paragraphs
Silver linings rising, capture lightning in a bottle
Hard to contain, just striking in ways they don't expect
In life, you'll realise your blessed
If you take a deep look around
And all that surrounds us
Just shows that you can achieve
Be anything you want to be
And all I choose is to just be me
Open up your heart to see.

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

©2018 Written By Benji James
Simon Clark Aug 2012
1.

For my sister this Christmas,
I wish joy and laughter,
I wish you happiness and love,
For now and forever and ever-after,
I wish you the bliss this season brings,
Everyday of your life,
Every second you live,
For my sister this Christmas,
I wish these wondrous things.

2.

Dear brother, hear the sleigh bells,
Hear them ringing aloud,
Watch the snow fall down in time,
To the story that they tell,
They tell of children smiling with glee,
They tell of happy times,
And the family that surrounds thee.

3.

Father, may the memories stay,
Forever in your mind,
And I pray all the peace and wonder,
You will always find,
Will last until eternity,
With every festive time.

4.

You made this year so special,
Mother, you made us all complete,
You made us smile and be cheerful,
You gave us food to eat,
The love that surrounds us,
Every time you are near,
Will always be with us,
Each and every year.

5.

Andrew, at Christmas,
I pray you are happy,
I pray you are pleased,
With all the treasure you receive,
Look to the New Year,
With hope in your heart,
And cherish every moment,
Every beat of your heart.

6.

To a dear Grandmother,
You always make us smile,
We're always glad you're here,
And at Christmastime especially,
We're truly glad you're near.

7.

Auntie, this is my Christmas wish,
I wish that you know kindness,
The joy of a Christmas wish,
I hope you realise that you are dearly loved,
So enjoy this festive season,
With family,
With love.

8.

Sarah, it is Christmas,
The snow begins is dance,
The candle follows suit,
Joining the chanting trance,
The tree is decorated,
In reds, silvers, gold's,
This is a very special time,
That in your heart you'll hold.
written in 2006
Michelle Graham Apr 2012
like a static shock i feel you
running up my spine
tingling the hair at the nape of my neck
something harsh and unexpected
but unexpectedly pleasant
snapping me back into the present
eyes freshly opened and wide
like a still from a movie
quaking on the bed
feeling my limbs tighten against you
something soft and yielding
but not fully, pressing back
pushing my core deep into the down
we fight for a moment
tearing at each other with teeth
with claws
with fists, open, closed,
before the tension breaks
and calm floods over us with
no slight pause, sending us both
reeling into oblivion, all extremities
stilled as we stare gasping into the
dark nothingness that surrounds us
heads thrown back and hands clasped
together as we slip away
floating no where, watching galaxies
being ****** into black holes
and stars exploding into limbo
before we find ourselves back
in bed, abruptly, chests heaving and
slick with sweat
where we try to put ourselves back together
fruitlessly
Hannah Beth Aug 2014
She is the first springtime shower
a fresh promise of something new
The foundation to newfound life around her
a persona of all that is true

Soon, she is a summer downpour
A welcome respite from scorching heat
Every drop i crave, every storm near surrounds me
Her water is soon air, an overwhelming necessity

Later, an autumn storm.
Accompanied by a bite
A wind so harsh and bitter
Makes me forget her first spring life

And lastly, a soft snowfall.
Her floods have turned to ice
Frozen and forgotten
The damage heals with time

Storms must come full circle
none truly have an end
But to have known this girl,
What a privilege.
She was a living monsoon,
a friend.
Make what you want of this, but in my opinion, it is a story about relationships, and the different stages of them that are experienced. It was also inspired by Looking For Alaska, one of my favourite books, and my take on Pudge's relationship with Alaska. So yeah, that's basically it, I'll be quiet now haha
Liam Wales Aug 2015
Nothing will come between us
A solid still flows through the gap
Our candle remains lit for eternity
Why would anyone try to blow out the candle?

It isn't an ordinary candle
This candle, anything it can handle
Gigantic cockroaches threaten its flame
How come this flame has not gone out?

Darkness surrounds the object
Nothing can stop it, not even the dust it collects
People puff with all their breath
Our flame will never go out
patty m Jan 2018
Beautiful poet, your lines pristine as new fallen snow,
drift now in hazy sky.  Posture not but sleep and dream
What was isn't, what is will change in future days. Scurry not rat-like forsaken; sip sweet nectar and breathe in the silken breeze. 
 Often told, thy enemy is self.  Plagued deep in sentiment, one can drown in the swill of depression.  Fear not, for the sun will shine again, Spring thaw releasing the land from Winter's hoary hand.  Dream on to budding flowers and the greenery that surrounds you along with bird sounds and the song of the babbling brook.  Leap high as golden carp chasing red umbrellas, deep down a smile is waiting to kiss your lips.  Spread your arms to all you see, embrace the glorious.  Be a child again chasing  sunbeams as horsetail clouds race across the sky.  Enjoy the magic of metamorphosis, that fuzzy caterpillar friend you talked to on a leaf, is someone else entirely, ethereal as it wings by.   We too change, learning from exposure the lessons of life.  How to overcome, and battle on, and when to rest, heaven blest.  We're not Gods, though made in the image of one, yet how much we accomplish.  One could lay down and die, thrash and cry, and what would that accomplish?  When wearied and beaten down I often wondered what I would miss if I were to give up.   Night is always the harbinger of fear, that looks less horrible in morning light.
What might you miss?  
I can't answer for you my friend, only for me.  I would have missed years and hours and minutes with my precious loved ones, three now gone, but never forgotten.  I'd have missed so much time with my beautiful daughter and I would never have learned that I could raise myself upon life's ladder.  Most of all I would  have missed the joy of my precious granddaughter Abby, now 23 months old, who is the hope of all my tomorrows.  None of this would have come to pass if I had given in when I felt forsaken.  
Each day is a beautiful gift, not to be taken for granted. 
Open the strings, experience the surprise.
Silence Screamz Sep 2014
The Swan from Cornwall
Oh gracious on the pond,
Reached out it wings
while singing his song

Listen my friend
like the frets on a guitar
I'll play you a tune
so  distant so far

The words go like this,
So simple and pure
Ripples the effect
I have given the cure.

The banshee it screams
like sirens in the night,
the slow dive that surrounds
its about perfect flight

Oh swan you lifted me
from shadows of past,
No sin is untold
More stories to last

Gratitude and fortune
I wish you a fond
The Swan from Cornwall
Oh gracious on your pond
This is for a friend who got me back into writing.. with a few hidden messages
H. V. Swan
Nathan Pival Feb 2016
I love the way you move
I love the way you walk
There is a certain grace about you
In the air that surrounds you
Even in how you talk

Your smile lights up a room
Your touch makes my heart
Burn with desire

Just being in your presence
Is time well spent
Feeling that my heart is safe
In your hands
Is priceless

You are the source
Of so much inspiration
It's difficult to explain
You make me want to better myself
Because you deserve the best man
That I can be

You "get" me
And I "get" you
I've never felt more
Understood or appreciated
For just being myself

You make me feel thankful
And I don't take that for granted

I love the way you move
jerelii Jan 2013
A sunny Thursday morning
Like a piece of the new era
That hollows the entire hallway
To the new scheme to your direction

You're like a bubble pop
That surrounds you with your brighter smile
That surrounds you with your inner desire
That surrounds you with the perfect illuminated light

You're like a champagne to my tequila
A dazzling brilliant to my great escape
The way you jive to the beat of my heart
You are truly indeed a creation

My charona to my next in line
And the sweetest aroma to my escent
It makes you the person who you are
Cause every detailed is a Wonderful You.
Every single person are indeed a wonderful one. Big or small they have a true Heart that you called.
suicidal twitch Jul 2015
And in this courtroom
So filled with Four Nations
The Sun held her head up high,
Lighting the way for their tales and psalms:

I am the King of Spades.
Righteous ambition is my goal.
The bravery of the Spades is made known to others
Only through such matters.
Perseverance is our path to Victory
Endurance, our greatest desire.
We, the Spades, partner with Father Time
To belong as a mighty people
Forever more.

I am the Queen of Diamonds
The splendor and enjoyment of Life's beauty is my passion.
A Diamond's journey is a one of glorious awe
That no one can compare.
Loveliness surrounds this pretty people
And the Artist shall forever be pleased by them.
Our perception of artistry leaves most in awe
And this fact is forever the passion we strive for.

I am the Queen of Clovers
Survival is the sole lifestyle of the Clovers
In this wretched and unforgiving world
The Clovers must stay strong
Holding the clubs of the ancients,
We prevail
Onward shall we extend our power
The Clovers will remain
Forever the mightiest.

I am the King of Hearts.
The rapid spread of emotional ties
Is what us Hearts long for.
Threads of fate surround our people
Binding them to one another.
Love, lust, infatuation
Oh, these are the things that steady our nation!
So filled with Faith, Hope and Love
Our Hearts shan't fail us
As passion will never cease
To flow in our veins
—ah, yes!
This is the way of the Hearts.

And in this courtroom
So filled with Four Nations
The Sun laid down her head
Whilst the Moon finally awoke and,
Smiled his light onto them below.
This was made by my fanfiction friend called Sam-Chan who gave it to me! :3
Big Virge Nov 2014
Ya know .....

This Violence thing ....    
just isn't in me ... !!!  
I'm just wondering when ...    
you masses will see ,,, ?  
    
That wars are like ****** ....  
"Without" ... A ***** ... !!!!!!  
    
See ... it really is ... "Futile"  
to be messin' with me ...  
    
I've got logic like Spock  
and ... Big Ears ...  
Don't you see ... !?!  
    
Yes ...    
The name is ... " Big V "  
and this style I believe ... ?  
is called ... "Slam poetry !?!"  
and I hear that ... to win ...  
it helps if ... you're ...    
    
........... FUNNY ........ !!!!!  
    
Well .....  
I hate to ... Disappoint ...  
    
But ...    
That's just ... missing ... the point !  
    
I try to write things  
that are built to ... " Anoint " ...  
An ... "Elixir of Pictures"  
in terms of ... My ... Scripture ...  
    
That Affect ... your mind ...  
Like ... Smoking ... "A Joint" ... !!!!!  
    
See ...    
One day it was Yoda ...  
who said to me ....  
    
'Virgil my son  
this poetry thing  
is your DESTINY !!!"  
    
Like Luke I said ....  
    
"Maaaannnn,    
that just isn't me  
performing this thing  
they call, Slam Poetry !?!"  
    
So ......  
Now that this veil ...  
is .... Covering me ...  
    
I feel like Darth Vader ...  
with forces ... So DARK ... !!!!!  
    
I keep checkin' my head ...  
for that ... 666 ... Mark ... !!!!!!!  
    
But .......    
God's force ... I ... " Believe " ...    
just keeps ... "Loving Me" ...  
So ... "My Soul" ... like my mind  
will always be .... " FREE " ....  
    
"Violence" ... surrounds me ...  
yet ... "Angels in my Heart" ...  
but it's ...... "Lucipher" ........  
Don't you .... see .... !?!?!?!  
    
who sits back with a ... "***" ...  
looking on .... " Patiently " ....  
Awaiting .... Those .... "Fools"  
    
.............. Wanting ................  
    
"Destruction' ...... of ...... " WE " .....  
    
"We" .... as in .... " PEOPLE "    
    
So .... What's Your ... " Destiny ? "    
    
It's ... "Lost Souls" ...  
who'll be ... ****** ...  
for ....... ETERNITY ........................  
    
So .......  
What DO they ... Achieve ... !???!  
    
See ......  
I've found ... NO Relief ...  
and now ... "TRULY" ... Believe ...  
A ... "Great Many" ... in this world  
just keep being ....  " Deceived " ....  
by ... BULL** ... and ... Lies  
that the ..... Media ..... "FEEDS"    
    
While these ... "Draculas" ... " **** ! "  
It's my heart that just .... "BLEEDS"    
    
Thus My Words ...    
search for ... "TRUTH"  
with .... " INTENSITY " .... !!!!!  
    
while Violence ... now ... " Reigns "  
in each ... " Big City " ... !!!!!  
    
EVEN ........  
Young Girls will ... "****" ... !!?!!  
Stab a gay ... in his chest ...    
or .... could it be .... This .... ???  
    
Is she just ... "Re-enacting" ...  
what she saw in ... **** Bill ... !???!  
    
"We told you before,  
Quentin's films are TOO VIOLENT !!!!!"  
    
The censors ... Complain ...  
but ... who is the ... Tyrant ... ?!?  
    
A man using film ... to ...  
"Reflect" ... our ... Environment  
    
Or .... "Overpaid MP's" ....  
who NEED ... Early Retirement !!!!!  
    
So ... Who do you ... TRUST ... !?!  
    
"Ashes to Ashes"    
    
........ or .........  
    
"Dust to Dust"  
    
An Icepick ... in your chest ... !!!  
in a ... FIT ... of ... " LUST " ... !?!  
    
Well .......  
It's my ... Basic Instinct ...  
That allows me to ... "Drink" ...  
    
I've got ... "A Shield of Steel" ...  
But ... My name ain't ... "BATFINK" ... !!!!!!  
    
See ...    
In these few words ...  
"My Truth" ... is ...  
    
.... REVEALED .... !!!!!  
    
and like ... Bruce ...  
I survive .....  
    
On my ... "Boy Scout" ... Appeal ... !!!  
but now it seems ..........  
Like Lambs ........  
    
You're all ... "quiet and silent" ...  
as I draw .... analogies ....  
from movies ... with ... VIOLENCE ...  
    
So ... when this .... Inscription ....  
is ... "FINALLY" ... "DONE" ...  
    
Will I be ... " The ONE " ... ?  
who's ... INJECTED ... your mind  
with thoughts of ... " Freedom " ... ?!?  
    
Well .....  
Be careful what you wish for ... !!!  
cos' i'm the ... "Wishmasters' Son" ... !!!    
and will take your ... Last Breath ...  
if you wish to ... Retain ...  
Your ... " Youthful Reflection " ...  
    
So .....  
What ... Reflects ... WHAT ... !?!?!?  
    
Is it ... Life ... "Within Movies" ... ?  
    
................. or ....................... ?????  
    
Movies that .... " Reflect " ....  
what goes on in ... OUR LIVES ... ?    
    
I'm not Arnie .... !!!  
BELIEVE ME ......... !!!!!!!!  
What's TRUE ... in a ... LIE ... ?!?  
    
I'm a ... "Lyrical" ... Prince ...  
but ... My Doves ... "DO NOT CRY" ... !!!!!!  
    
It's ... " PEACE " ... That I LIVE FOR ... !!!  
    
So this VIOLENCE ...    
    
........ “ MUST DIE ” ....... !!!!!!!
I'm pretty much, Anti ... Poetry slams, having done a few back when I wrote this, but, have to at least be thankful, for these words they inspired ! How many movies and shows do you know that I have mentioned ... ???
Silence Screamz Oct 2014
Laying in the darkness

Pitch black surrounds


Can't wake up     I'm cold!!
Lizzy Nov 2015
It's a darkness that surrounds you.
It covers your eyes,
And swims in your ears.
To keep you from seeing light,
Or hearing laughter.

Instead you see everything
In a dull and dark way.
Colors are no longer vibrant,
And lines seem to be blurred.
There is no more beauty in a sunset,
Or majesty in the ocean.
It's just water now.

And every sound is muffled now.
You can't differentiate your favorite song
From any other anymore.
The sound of laughter is more bitter than sweet.
Every song is the same bleak humm.
And laughter just makes me wish I was deaf.

The darkness even dulls touch.
A kiss doesn't make your heart beat fast anymore.
And contact seems nauseating.
A kiss is just a reminder
That nothing good lasts.
And most other interaction makes my skin crawl.

But now the darkness is in your brain.
In here, sometimes it's not dull at all.
Sometimes the darkness
Takes the shape of a monster.
A monster that whispers terrible things
And just gets louder when you try not to listen.
Sometimes the darkness
Feels like war inside your mind.

But yes, again, the darkness is dull.
Sometimes there is no monster,
No war,
And no yelling at all.
Sometimes when the darkness gets in your mind,
It becomes a silence.
I can't make out a clear thought,
Because all there is
Is silence.
The darkness takes the shape
Of death.
The silence, the nothingness of death.
And it becomes part of you,
Making your mind nothing but silence
And nothingness.

But the worst part about the darkness
Is my inability to communicate its existence.
I can't make anyone understand
The many shapes it can take.
How it can be torturous and loud
But comfortable just the same.

It's easy to talk about the monster,
Because it's something foreign and
Something present.
But everything else,
The dullness of senses
And the silence it becomes,
Can't be expressed.
Because in these forms,
The darkness is absence of life.
It's absence of color,
Sound,
Touch,
And thought.

And it's so hard to paint a picture
Of something that isn't even there.
I can paint a picture of a monster
With ****** teeth and devilish eyes.
But I cannot paint the nothingness
The darkness so often is.

And to me, nothingness is the most dangerous.
I can fight a monster.
But I cannot fight nothing.
Nothingness will swallow you.
It will take over your senses
And thoughts,
And eventually will to live.

Life is colorful.
Life should be loud.
Life should be funny.
And sometimes painful.
But when the silence,
The nothingness arrives,
There is no color.
There is no sound.
No laughter.
Or even pain.
There is no life at all.
L Aug 2018
Meticulous and true. They are so careful. So skilled. Deftly and with a swift and sure hand, the words,    
Oh the words, they flow like a brooke. The one in the forest, you know the one. The one out there, out far. In the deep of the wood, over root, under canopy. Through the branches you have to look real hard. And the hard part is not knowing at all what youre looking for. And then there,    
After an eternity and in an instant it is there infront of you. What you have been looking for. A vast clearing. Wide and open. The sun glints through the salt-and-peppered leaf roof. It crawls and stretches and lightly caresses everything you lay your eyes upon. Even matte mossy rocks, they seem to shine. You look down and it caresses you as well. Gentle and warm the embrace that you cant quite put your finger on. The location. The origin. It is everywhere, it surrounds you. Close your eyes. Embrace the sun back. But i digress my digression. The brook. It flows over, around, through. There is no stopping the water. It is relentless, it WILL get to its destination. You cannot change its mind. It is immovable.

That is what it is. It is beauty.

I know i should not compare. There is beauty in it all. But, goodness, the feelings invoked when reading others' poetry in admiration.
Brooke brook, glints?
Yeah my grammar. I break the rules sometimes. But im allowed to because i have learned them.
I whistle for the Scarecrow to lead the way right after Neur decided to leave. It begins to form a black mist/smoke like essence in the middle of where I stand then it unifies and creates a Scarecrow with red eyes and it makes noise and flies slowly in front of me. Finally it lands in a mysterious cave where I stand in awe as I see ...there the Scarecrow stands on top of a crystalline rock emanating from the entrance of the cave itself. I walk in and I feel an eerie feeling go down my gut...something tells me to look immediately to the right. So when I do there it is the mystical impenetrable rock Aziel was talking about. Then just then I feel a sense of ease and Aziel says telepathically..."So my not what are you waiting for destroy the rock and retrieve the relic." So all the sudden I feel a sudden deepening defining feeling in my chest and I acquire the powers of Darkness for the first time in my quest for revenge is paying off. I command my whole arm to become a sledgehammer and hit the rock directly and it cracks in a half...there stands a beautiful glowing base with a fancy top on it ...made out of red diamonds and showered in Gold. Then I am relieved. "I got it" I tell Aziel telepathically. Then Aziel responds worried ... "Come as quickly as you can because I believe the Goddess is onto you...plus I cannot sustain you with the power of Darkness only 45 more minutes. Therefore,  come friend for you will be handsomely rewarded. " As I am getting out of the cave I hear galloping coming up the path I came. Then to my bewilderment Boom there stood a huge 32 ft tall ElderGloomTree It looked at me and it had a sweet berry like strawberry like scent in the Air it smelled beautifully nice.
The middle of the tree there was a mouth like sideways and it opened inside it slowly took out it's tongue and there was a small what looked like a mustard seed with rainbow like colors all over. There that little seed grew before my very eyes in the matter of split seconds and formed the shape of a beautiful glowing young woman with beautiful green skin and black hair with blue red and white stripes on the hair color. She spoke to me kindly and softly her breath smelled like fresh mint...I was astounded. Frank: "Yyyoouu...mmuusstt....bbb..e..." I stuttered... Nabyah: "Yes Young Mortal I am Nabyah many call me the Goddess Of The Forest Of Whispers. What are you doing here...what is that your carrying and oh one last question...I heard from Neur you was seeking me." Frank: "Indeed I am Frank Deltoro and I am here to request something from you...in return I'll do something you want done. If it's under my power and will to do so I will aid you." Nabyah: " I want to aid my tribe of centaurs and the remote Cyclop  village of Vlakazamuk & Chalekathan *
  We want to stop the killing of Centaurs and the human captures from capturing Cyclops and making them work enslaving all Cyclop population or sometimes brutally **** them and practice known as
Davalkaj Shamanism.

You humans and your inventions to destroy our home-world and natural habitat. Tell me what makes you think I'm going to help You? Should I **** you for trespassing my forest?" Frank: "Well... I didn't come to fight but if i must we can clash but I would rather we handle the situation like 2 Grown up adults here well you for one am sure have lived thousands of years now but hey...help me and I will do my best to remove the curse." Nabyah: " Fine but do come ...come close to me I will kiss you in the lips once and you shall have my blessing..." Aziel shouts telepathically: "Use the power of the Dark to see if she is giving you a curse or a blessing...if you take the kiss and become enchanted well since the power of Darkness is in you it will be removed. But if it's a curse I shall take it and renew your power by some. So either way it's safe go ahead kiddo...I know you want those lips. Get em" I just nod. Then wow I kiss the Goddess and it's by far the most romantic thing that's ever happened to me in my 25 yrs of living. I felt a holy power showering over me then the power of the Dark was immediately removed.
Then all the sudden she makes a beautiful hymn comes out of her mouth and a fairy about 3ft tall with 6 wings flying in mid air hands Nabyah a gorgeous engraved Vial of blood. "Here is what you seek warrior; proceed carefully not only benevolent souls and entities linger here. I leave the area as soon as she hands me the vial of blood. I get about 50 ft away from the area and the power of Darkness consumes me I transform to a Giant Bat and head back to Aziel.
In the Castle am greeted with pleasure and I hand him the vial of Goddesses blood. There and then he drinks the elixir of blood and before my very eyes he regains his youth and full power. Then there stands 5'7 Sharp look young man about 20 to 21 years of age. He disappears and reappears behind me tapping me on the shoulder. Aziel: "Frank I am in complete debt with you for only and even though we do not agree nor do I love him any but thanks the Lord...you helped me regain my full vampiric power. Ahhh it feels amazing. Hahaha  he embraces me in a warm hug.  Now what do you desire my mortal friend?
I think deeply..."I want to help the Goddess remove the curse from the forest." Aziel: "I usually don't meddle in human affairs but I am making an exception I'll help you as long as your willing to help me destroy the Order " Frank: "Does this mean I must look for the Relics Neur Blackthorn asked me to get ...since I got the vial I don't really need to do it no more right?" Aziel: " I'll let you borrow the power of Darkness for 6.5 more hrs till morning comes" Frank: "Thanks Aziel once again for letting me gain more power and knowledge."

~ *Meanwhile


At a very remote location deep in the heart of the Forest Of Whispers lived Bethilda Wood. She has lived in a old ruined cabin for 700+ yrs also she is known as The Elder Witch *Empress Of Darkness
known to bestow powerful spells and hexes but also with the gift of healing and releasing souls back to the Almighty One. A young Wiccan woman comes up young in age her skin tan/white heading toward the old rugged cabin...then pauses whistles a delightful melody and a staff appears.  Having been trained in the field of magic this young witch is been taken under Bethilda's wing. Bethilda:  Adrianna  darling come I have a surprise for you. Follow me to the pond of *Greater Enchantment. Adrianna: So... I heard you became the High Dark Empress 1200 years ago. Bethilda: Yes that is true I been a Witch for the past 1600 years or so. I survived the middle ages the dark ages and the years of enlightenment.  It's something I been willing to be all my life for I meet the man who carries my heart a young man known as The Count Of the Night. Dracula! We fell in love and I bore 3 of his children who so I have heard inherited the gift of becoming a vampire and they inevitably became vampires, more like the 3 princes of the night. Vladimir my first born Aziel my middle child and Uriel the youngest of the three. I been on the quest of finding Jesus Tears a small opaque flower the color of silver to complete my spell and relinquish Vladimir's soul to the mortal realm fit it into a red diamond and transfer it's soul essence into a freshly dead human body. With that he will come back to the World of the living and redeem himself and take revenge on the Order. Adrianna: I will help you. I will find this flower you'll see. So then they practiced spells from there on out.

~ Meanwhile

Its 1 a.m. and Frank heads out to seek the Ancient Relic. With the complete power of Darkness at his disposal he sends out 3  scarecrows to look for areas of interest in the Forest Of Whispers. Two of the  scarecrows come back one doesn't so that last one got killed by someone's power. Frank communicates telepathically to Aziel. Frank: I think someone is onto us Aziel guard the Castle it might be the Order. Aziel: already got it covered buddy. Then Frank feels a very strong power slowly emanating from the Southeast part of the Forest Of Whispers.  Frank transforms to a bat and heads there. As he gets there the small village of Chalekathan...
He who has been destroyed there stood a mysterious figure in the middle of the havoc a mysterious strong power could be felt from him. Mysterious Man: Hello adventurer my name is Navarro Castle-worth I am the Warlock of the *Tower Of Frejoird
where I was trained to use magic and rituals to summon strong deities into this plane of existence.  I got here too late someone had destroyed the village before I got here. Frank: Right ...my name is Frank Deltoro and how do I know your not the one who destroyed the village? Why should I trust you? Navarro: Young friend...I do not desire battle but if it's necessary I will satiate your thirst for battle...Navarro Summons his staff and says some words and a Huge Nightmarish Creature that looks like a dog with a fog of Darkness surrounds the Creature. Frank summons the power of Darkness and since its 1:33 a.m he gains the *Wings Of the Desolate Count which makes his power two fold. There Frank stood looking at Navarro in the eyes and him looking at Frank with perspicacity. All the sudden a trembling can be felt and a Huge Cyclop comes out of the Wilderness. Mysterious Cyclop: Hold one moment ...this man is telling you the truth young Mortal. Frank: Woah a Cyclop what how did you get here? Frank loses his fighting stance and so does Navarro...My name is *Jhino Velvermount I am from the Tribe Of Chalekathan* known Village Of the Largest Cyclop population. "Come I show you what the Witch Of the Tavern Of Doom Dragons* done her name is ...whispers Bethilda N. Lement. Raised originally in Sweden in the small farming town of Wrellender* learned Martial Arts Of Taijutsu and Ninjutsu. Able to control Lighting/Air/Water/Fire/Metallic energies. Coming from a family that practiced Zetzou Buddhism. Who are thought at a very young age to control the Chi* Energies of the body how to practice Re-Vitalizing and Re-Energizing the Chi to be able to stay in a meditative/active blending of consciousness with the subconscious to make Ninjutsu possible. She is known to have rested 1322-1555 A.C. about 250 not been too active but her Great Grandmother. Nayya M. Element who was born 1119 A.C. in the same village one of the co-founders of it who placed the curse on the Forest Of Whispers and it's being sustained by her Great Granddaughter Mrs. Lement. Now me and Navarro follow Jhino to the Village. We go thru extensive difficult paths that leave me tired for an excruciating 5 hrs of walking. Finally arrive at the village... and there is about 30-40 Thousand Cyclops gathered around the Village to hear Gromm ElderLord of the Village Of Chalekathan. Gromm: My stance stands I am here to protect my people from the evil that has left this village wrecked record in the past 300 years. I will NOT allow Bethilda to wreak havoc here no longer. There Me and Navarro and Jhino stand behind the large crowd waiting for the speech to end. The speech finally ends and strong Cyclop incense is burn to allow other high ranking tribe members to know the Elders speech ended. <br>
<br>
~Meanwhile in Aziel's Castle~
"Hello" a young woman with Long Red Hair that hits the ground as she walks White Pearl Eyes with Black Pupils and with a Long  *Black Ceremonial Dress known as Akashaic Black Tunic Of the Dark Empress from the Land Of Necromancers.
There appeared in a Dark WindAziel Governale in a White Taxedo like Suit Welcome Home... Iris Senteno ...Oracle Of the Shadows Of the most powerful Magicians from the Tower Of Frejoird. I have seen your prodigal human who's name is Frank Deltoro...handsome young man who encountered Navarro in The Forest Of Whispers. Will he be trouble? Or shall I eliminate his presence?"
Aziel: No he is working for me...you shall have him without delay at the end.

                         ~To Be Continued
Work in progress.
Hadiy Syakir Sep 2018
no one is subscribing
to the universal affection
draining subconscious ailment
that needs no treatment
quaking with fear
shaking with revulsion
looking to prolong
an hour, a minute
stretching one second
into ten seconds
where are we going,
past the streetlights
the crossroads
the commotion
inside the canal boat
that surrounds and accompanies
this road -
will it ends one day,
sometimes, somewhere
and brings an end
to the entire's generation
guilt and disease?
RW Dennen Sep 2014
In this fRaGmEnTeD cage,I hear checkpoint moans;
anticipating our prone-positioned
brothers and sisters held
Prone positions against walls
Prone positions against fences
Prone positions against vehicles
Prone positions against buildings
Prone positions against prone positions
Slam-whacked, bloodied, occupied
like our great nation; like our souls
I remember a prophet's call, " love your neighbor
as yourself "

I hear Palestine weeping from Jenin
to Hebron, from Jerico to Gaza seized
I hear lamentations about blood tales
I see only FrAgMeNtS of our land
I see FrAgMeNtS of our proud people
Lo and behold my Palestine quakes as an earth quake
Doves scatter skyward as a prophetic omen
Blue skies and Sun momentarily claim victory
Then inhumanity's ugly face:
America to its Indians, America to its blacks,
America to women, America to its gays,
America to Mexicans,
America to South and Central America,
America once to Southeast Asia,
America to Islam, America with its war crimes,
America and Israel both innocence died

So, we pray Koran's verses upon our prayer rugs
We gesture all hope
The apartheid surrounds us
The dead talk to us
The smoke surrounds us
Perhaps better days we say
Entwined with bizarre everydayness
we accept sleep with fits
Fits without food;
Fits without crucial welfare
Roads, shelters, mock us
sculptured by missiles and bulldozers
Bully-bombs exploding in a reign of terror
We pray upon our prayer rugs
Bully-bombs exploding in a reign terror
And oooh how those awful missile FrAgMeNtS fly
and Muhammad cries with anguished tears, in this writtened
legacy...in written legacy
love your neighbor as you love yourself...
MonkeyZazu Nov 2014
Darkness loves me too much
Always has me in a tight hold
It loosens it grip every now and then
But never really lets me go

Because it consumes all color
It's able to create any illusion
Sometimes I believe it's not there
But really, who am I foolin'

Darkness always surrounds me
Always lingers over my shoulder
Simulating fake happiness and warmth
Only making me colder

For now I endure the shadows
Try to put up a good fight
Still stumbling through darkness lost,
A blind man searching for light
Sally A Bayan Sep 2015
Start slow...
     warming... up...and...below
         forty five degrees
            to the left...right...others go nineties...
       some freeze...from locked knees
   they don't mind...they'll recover
          before the hour is over...

Detach self
    from what
       surrounds
             but...still aware
                connected...
            agitation
        soon to be lessened
   eventually....calmed

Focus...
   exercise
       stabilize
    synchronize
        visualize
     internalize
  energize!

Endure!
               An ant bites at the back of your ear
         something's  crawling on your tummy
     beads of sweat, drop across your eyes,
or inside your ear...you feel the cold touch within
    
A bee, a wasp...sometimes, a fly
      circles very near your face
           makes your wall of
                concentration, crumble
              tempting you to lose count
          of the movements
      testing you...
   if you might still stray...even
      a step away...
          if, to your weaknesses
      you would still succumb

          will you be distracted?
             or stay focused?

Let eyes, and mind blink
     One...two...three...quickly!
            be grounded!
                stay on the right track.....

               Exercise!
               ...visualize....
               ... internalize.....
               ...never give up!



Sally


Copyright September 21, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***starting the week right...too much chinese noodles this weekend***
♡° ⊙ • ⊙ °♡
This place in my heart
There...
intimately aware
     Deep tenderness
Imbued with
illuminessence
Moonflowers
opening in the fullness
of the Moon's light
     Tonight
wrapped tight
threads of fear
Mama Pain
too great to fight
     A ragged slice
overflowing
with hurt by
unkind words
thoughtlessly
thrown my way
Self inflicted pain
when I doubt my inherent
Knowledge and Strength
     I know this part
of my heart
that holds
the wounded
collections of me
Keeping at bay
the ache that
lives within
     The Blessing is
that Love
surrounds
Wraps around
with Healing light
Shining within
to Hold The Power
     Allowing me respite
from the Sacred Locket
held in this place of
My Heart
♡° ⊙ • ⊙ °♡

Copyright © 2016. Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved

related poems...
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1483839/19/
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1465555/knick-knacks/
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1181941/it-hurts/
ThankYou for reading...
Heartbreak finds us all.
Mine is in response to my
daughter's ****** addiction.
Having overdosed unknown times in
2 1/2 years, no matter
the heartache, each day
she is with us is precious.
A unique beautiful creature
She is 20 years old.

Currently in her 8th recovery program. Today, she is alive and either succumbs or battles through each day.
Tabitha Lee Feb 13
Eye of the storm- Ryan Stevenson

In the eye of the storm
You remain in control
And in the middle of the war
You guard my soul
You alone are the anchor
When my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me
In the eye of the storm

When the solid ground is falling out from underneath my feet
Between the black skies, and my red eyes, I can barely see
When I realize I've been sold out by my friends and my family
I can feel the rain reminding me

In the eye of the storm, You remain in control
In the middle of the war, You guard my soul
You alone are the anchor, when my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me
In the eye of the storm

Mmm, when my hopes and dreams are far from me
And I'm runnin' out of faith
I see the future I picture slowly fade away
And when the tears of pain and heartache
Are pouring down my face
I find my peace in Jesus' name

In the eye of the storm (yeah, yeah)
You remain in control (yes you do, Lord)
In the middle of the war
You guard my soul
You alone are the anchor
When my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me (Your love surrounds me)
In the eye of the storm (in the eye of the storm)

When the test comes in and the doctor says
I've only got a few months left
It's like a bitter pill I'm swallowing
I can barely take a breath
And when addiction steals my baby girl
And there's nothing I can do
My only hope is to trust You
I trust You, Lord

In the eye of the storm (yeah, yeah)
You remain in control
In the middle of the war (middle of the war)
You guard my soul (yeah!)
You alone are the anchor
When my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me (yeah!)
In the eye of the storm

You remain in control (yes you do, Lord)
In the middle of the war (in the middle of the war)
You guard my soul
You alone are the anchor
When my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me
In the eye of the storm

Oh, in the eye of
Lord, in the eye of the storm
I know You're watching me, yeah
Ay

When the storm is raging (when the storm is raging)
And my hope is gone (and my hope is gone, Lord)
When my flesh is failing
You're still holding on, oh whoa

When the storm is raging (the storm is raging)
And my hope is gone (and all my hope is gone)
When my flesh is failing (my flesh is failing)
You're still holding on, ooh

When the storm is raging (when the storm is raging)
And my hope is gone (and my hope is gone)
Even when my flesh is failing (flesh is failing)
You're still holding on, holding on

The Lord is my Shepherd
I have all that I need
He let's me rest in green meadows
He leads me beside peaceful streams
He renews my strength
He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to His Name
Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid
For You are close beside me
Hey guys remeber he is there for you through and through and when I say He i mean God!!!
Potter Oct 2015
Intelligence brings an arrogance
A desire to control
All that which surrounds us
Seems to impact on our soul

Intelligence brings the logic
A method to make sense
But often leaves its mark
When emotion tries to vent

Intelligence brings the knowledge
Emotion was here first
Love will over power all
This is not our curse.

— The End —