when we think about imagination,
We think about pieces of our childhood.
Leftover of the memories
They didn't wanted us to keep.
Ashes
Of our buried first consciousness,
Buried
Under a pile of society
Tossed by the shovel
Of humanity.
Shattered thougts.
Because they fear the ones
That know what's really worth it.
A child wouldn't choose a car
Or a smartphone
Before their friends.
They wouldn't.
Because our math tests became easier
When "I don't know" was a valid answer.
Now it is all about competition,
Now it is all about money,
And that's what makes someone
Rich.
And who's "powerful" will rule.
A kid is not afraid to fall
Because they'll stand up Again,
Maybe,
We have much to learn from them.

My mind is reeling with thoughts
Happy memories is what I'm trying to find but once again the dark side wins and pulls me in
I can feel the ache building in my heart , and once again I'm reminded of the past
My eyes are trying to put up a fight, and the tears are desperatly trying to hold on but once again gravity does it's job and pulls them to the ground.
Words are being thrown around carelessly in my mind, like bullets shooting through me
I 'd take psychical pain over emotional and mental pain any day
The psychical pain fades with each day passing by
But the emotional and mental pain stays with you till the end of time
The world is such a beautiful place, but it's the people in it that makes it ugly
I think of what you said while shedding tears
I dig in deeper into my mind and face my biggest fear
I try standing strong as I go through the storm in my mind
Once it's finished I sign in relief
With a final question flooding my mind
"How come I forgive but never forget"
is the final thought before I close my eyes
My head sinks into the pillow and I curl into a ball
I cover my whole body with a blanket as I stifle a yawn
Black is all I see as it consumes me and takes me to a better place
And makes me forget the cold hard truth that I again in the morning have to face.

Thinking about love is like throwing thoughts into vast emptiness
I used to be a hopeless romantic but now all that remains is the glimmer of love that has fallen out of my chest like a dot of glitter on the ground that catches your eye, you may look at it for a second but eventually you will find yourself stepping on it

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My name is going to vanish into nothingness one day.
"Johnnie Woods" who wrote a few poems, a cluster of atoms that developed illusionary consciousness. And now this consciousness starts to deny itself. I'm writing this text, I'm thinking 'bout what I'm going to write, I'm thinking about me thinking about me going to write it. And I'm writing it all.
My poems are pointless and my words and thougts are abstract.
All poems are pointless. This website is pointless. Cries and sadness and emotions are pointless. Everything is pointless.
Don't go this way if you wan't to retain your sanity. Atoms. Atoms.

This is the struggle, the writings in my mind every night.


The "cannot ******* sleep".


This is the "get to know u better my dear Borderline".

This is the genius, the craziness.

This is my self-therapy. The "I don’t wanna take my meds and I need to if I wanna be normal"

This is me typing, and talking in english only so I don’t  have to listen to my self-thougts in spanish telling me ****.”
"Isto me está a falar e escrever em Português, só para não ter que ouvir a minha mente conversando comigo em Inglês e Espanhol dizendo coisas desagradáveis"

This is the Linguist, the Polyglot. This is the Mexican, the German, the citizen of Oceania.

The suicidal. The teaser. The lover. The wife. The translator. The ******. The poet. The soon-to-be-a lawyer.

This is the world looked through the eyes of a Borderline patient.

Random Thoughts. Just to keep my mind occupied, avoiding suicide,  again, not because I don’t want to live in this beautiful earth again, but just to ******* shout out the voice inside my mind.

Russian dolls,
like paper notes,
burn and burn,
like our hopes.

You'd love thier brilliance,
had you seen them,
but if you do,
we can't redeem them.

Burning, burning,
day by day,
we smell the smoke,
as we play.

No red flags,
no warning's flown,
no siren wailing,
the reverent tones.

Physical wealth,
that we adore,
cannot compare,
to how we're poor.

Thougts exchanged,
for a shiny necklace,
Hopes and dreams
Are getting reckless,

Faltered seconds,
splintered moments,
If we only knew,
how to control this.

I say she took my heart and never gave it back
Run it back
You used to cut your wrist i got you outta dat
Now you Rollin around wit cat
spending your stacks cause you worked at eat fresh
you used to be upset
Cause you had dreams i couldn't catch
the smell of **** was too fresh
Takin blunts to the head
head high
i held my head high
When i was high
Days go by
before i reply to the hi
You sent at 9
its been months no sun shine
But sometime
You still come across my mind or in a rhyme
And how i spend my time
i just copped a dime
What it wasnt on your dimes or nickles
Your dimples uses to make me tingle
Now im aiming at your dental
With a first full of resentful
but i could never diss you on a instrumental
iv picked the peddles
Thought you felt us on a different level
So l told gipedo
I wont settle
To puppet
for ******* in steledos.
Not even a hello
Can bring back the haylo
that you held low
when yo head hang low
but you said goodbye now your heads gone
Been high my heads gone
so till my heads stone
I live on
Until my last song
Im Jackson
Got packs on person
Im taking charge
Like you purse gone
So drag slow even if yo joint long
This that right wrong
So right on
till cows head home
Im dead on
Jojo been gone
So flows moe head strong
So ill see you in the rest room
got thougts that ill rest on until i get my chest on
Smith and west drawn because you were my best one
Jackson
Aka the worst

I suffer from generalized anxiety
and I just want people to understand it
but mental illnes is frowned upon by society
Some days I'm fine but I must admit
I'm always just teetering at the edge of sobrietry

I know it's never going to go away
But I can try my best to forget the pain
Always trying to keep it at bay
But always in vain

walking around in a circle
trying to learn from my mistakes
at the pace of a turtle
at night my thougts still keep me awake

I'm really not depressed
but I'm not happy either
I have this anxiety pressing at my chest
And sometimes i just need a breather

I'm constantly told to get it together
to pick up some courage and do things
But that's like telling someone not to be cold in freezing weather
And more anxiety is all that it brings

Talk to me friendly,
And as though we have met.

The angels are giggling,
And some without regret.

Talk to me tongue tied,
Or till blue in the face,

Hand in hand converse,
Thougts in embrace.

Blur the sanity
plunged in delirium
that calls for me,
free of any type of bound
and see how the sunlight dies
with orphan eyes.
For now, I prefer to be blind
than carry on with this stubborn eyes
who refuse to see you in someone elses bed.
I would like to asphyxiate my thougts with the pillow
so when you land over my bed
in the middle of the night
my dream become true
and rest my lips over your skin
caress your longs with a deep breath
ignoring the fear behind my knees
and sculp your body in the darkness,
under my covers.

Sitting in an empty room
Letting the loneliness consume me
Letting the thougts flow through my mind

I haven't seen his face in days
I miss the sweet things that he says
I miss his smile
I miss his laugh

I'm afraid because of my scars from the past
Afraid he'll forget about me
Afraid he'll love another
Afraid he'll hate me
Afraid he'll call me names

I know he's not like that
To hell with my past
I'm writing a new book
The writing starts now
I shall turn my frown upside down

I won't be self conciois
I won't be untrusting
I won't let my past permanently scar me
He's different I know it
And I am new
I'm recreating myself
So dear past,
To hell with you

i see you
opening your eyes
out of your sleep
a familiar touch

there's no trace
of me in your thougts
waking up without me
is this the end?

the warmth in your bed
is of your body alone
no fragrance
of our love

as the morning sun
comes up on you
i m dissapearing as quick
as a ghost

Tell me it's alright,
Please don't let go.
You're the only one I talk to,
Now I'm all left alone.
With these thougts I'm with,
Terrifying me, left and right.
I tried calming them, with little words,
But ended up arguing.
I'm not the best at pep talk, sorry...

Biting my tongue,
So the words don't slip out
The taste of copper,
Sharp in my mouth.
"Penny for your thoughts"
so the saying goes,
but they could never afford
the words I've burried below.
Sentenced to silence,
laid to rest in an unmarked grave,
as I'm slowly murdered
by the things I don't say...

journaling of emotions?
    expressions of the heart?
        externalizing of thougts
            cathartic musing
                a rorschach test
                    therapy?
                        art?

My body is floating on the ocean, and my foot is tied to a heavy box.
The heavy box is all my dark thoughts, and my depression.
It dragging me down, under the water.
I feel sometimes I get strangled by my own words.
I will not tell a living soul my darkest thougts. Because that is a sign of weakness.

So under the water I go. The box dragging me further and further down.
I can't breath.
I try to untie my self, but it's to hard.
Why do I have to have this box?
Why?
The people who know me says everyone have a box like that.
But they don't understand how it is to hate yourself so freaking much.

That your biggest enemy is yourself.
That this box is holding you down.
That you can't just untie the know and everything will just be fine.
And you can't say anything because then you will drown.

The what-if thoughts always got me.
Always haunt me.
Always and always made me scared.

But all the beautiful thougts of you I had,
Have totally saved me.

1054pm

I didnt realise that
I wasnt cool enough
To carry myself with eyes
Wide open,
Like some enigmatic beauty
With no interior design,
Someone gazes at clouds making
Shapes,
People look at the man
With a pen and tiny pad,

Their thougts like dandruff
On the black polo
You bought to impress
Her father,
Self aware and glare at the living,
Painting the swindled
Version of the real things,
Wiping away the tears
Of this mornings' spilled coffee,
The 29 year old beggar looks pridedul
Enough to know you burn
Inside and out comes the
Weasal,

I couldnt truly see that I wrote
In the most sensible way,
A poet defines a classic sight
Timeless, wondering
When the pièce will be done
So he can write about beggar.

A poet is not slave to the mind,
And the mind is not a terrible
Thing, only when the door closes
And last light curls the spectrum,
The poet lays the earth in symphonie, afraid that he cannot hear the music,
Desparate and hungry
For the life he writes.

Something was done, now that I'm driving consistently. I don't have the time to write down the thougts, that come across my mind. I wonder if it's worth it to die, my flame wiped out on this very road. Blood mixed with metal, fibers of well written verses.

MEANING AND RHYTHM
Poetry, you are the truth,
gliding in the sky above.
You descend in rhythmic lines,
chanted by the lips of muse.

With the lyre in her hand,
and the thougts inside her mind,
she sings with her splendid beats
the essence of the whole life.

All her feelings have deep sense,
and she sings them in good rhythm.
She dislikes the trivial thoughts,
written in unrhythmic style.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

Neptune...
The most distant major planet orbiting our Sun...
It is dark, cold...
Battered by supersonic winds...
Perhaps nothing to see...
Still...
Sometimes poetry is about being alone with your own thougts...
Even if at a remote and isolated location...
It gives a poet the chance to look inside his or her own soul...
And get inspiration from happy moments of the past...
Or from nice and sweet thoughts of hopes for a happy future...
This poet has many nice memories of the past...
And also an endless supply of hope for a happier future...
So my dear reader...
Off I go to Neptune...
On a Wednesday morning...
That is Wedtune in my calendar...

you are a captive of your own thougts
A prey to your own worries
hunted like antelope
worry the silent killer

you start worying you stop living
you stop worring you start living
life on ,worries off
worries on, life off

walking worring equals walking dead
worries drain energy
worries the fear we manufucture
better stop worrying and start living

keep it real, dont make time to worry
of things you worry, 97% dont happen
never allow 3% to take control over you
chase away this serial killer.

you ar here for a short visit, dont worry
Enjoy the moment, just feel the beauty
raise your faith, let God take control
life is short, worries make it shorter.