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Guido Orifice Dec 2016
J.R. said the man in the helmet said, “Goodbye, my friend,” before shooting his father in the chest. His body sank, but the man shot him twice more, in the head and cheeks. The children said the three men were laughing as they left.*
-Daniel Berehulak, They Are Slaughtering Us Like Animals, New York Times

Manila, goodnight.
The world is watching you slowly die.
Tattered truths & losing sense of life
captivate your battered night. Mud hurls blood
streets batted with horror & blabbed
anonymous spirits ghostlier than ever.

(Even ghostlier than your Martial Law days)

Manila, tranquilize yourself.

Your rest will be disturbed by scourged souls, thunderous cracks of guns,
bullets hitting flesh, motorcycle tandem arrests,
people’s holy shouts shunning shibboleth sounding death.

Hear them not. Sleep well.

Maggots festering wound. Manila,
on your knees, worms stich your broken nerves
healing gunshot wounds with peace.

Your night will be a train of madness
shattered by lies through morbid holes in skulls
& confessions in cardboard signs.

(Justice today is served cold, so cold)

& everything from that day on is simply to be known
as a cold just.

Truth decays. Life smolders, vanishing.

Your nights will be unthreaded from memories
for no one dares to look back to twisted arms clenched
by plastic strips, head bowing to ground (instead of ground
bowing to head), ground kissing the body naked swarmed
either by grease or blood, the body breaking gossips
among gossipers & gossamer among spiders.

Weep not, dead men tell no fiction.
Their bodies are the shocking truth, forsaken
shocking headlines hissing morning papers
peppered with mint or lies.

Manila, goodnight for your night will be remembered
through vigilant myths & nothing more.

Often cold bodies, freezing voices from limbo,
can’t speak nor bothered the living.

Again, Manila, in your arms, dead men tell no tales.

The killing spree of fragmented morality,
mortality, fatality, vanity, sanity, insanity, apathy.

Manila, do not move. You are now sedated with fear,
stronger than cooked methamphetamine of crooked realities,
no less than a drug making your anxious, bothered
in the darker & dimmer night
in dimmer  & darker disaster.

Manila, walk with your graffiti walls.
Your gutters will be banks of blood. Daylight traffic
will erase your night’s unwelcoming sphere. Last night
persists as tiny figment of imaginings photographed
& again, nothing more.

Everything will pass like hyacinths of Pasig River.

Everything will pass like one’s eternal passing.

Everything will pass like a chilling December wind.

Everything will pass either a typhoon or a butterfly fluttering.

Manila, goodnight. I am afraid they will ****** you
in your sleep. I am afraid that everything will just pass
like your breath losing hold of your lungs then your heart.

I am afraid that your death, my dear Manila,
will just be a neighbourhood rumour passing
& everything turns into a fiasco of a madman who believes
that he is a messiah, was he a messiah or never he will be a messiah.

Manila goodnight, I will watch you in your sleep. Your sleep
will be a thousand fold peace. No more of your sons or daughters
will be killed at least not in my memory.

Manila, here comes the night. Sleep,
sleep holy in the hidden lair of my mind. Your
catacomb will be wreathed by flowers & tears.
Incense will be fragrant burning bones. Your life,
your tired life will be a gentle ebbing of time
like your Bay’s sunset beauty, like your lively street people
like your once known heritage, your life
in the busy daybreak of your kindred sons.

Goodnight, my dear Manila.
I invite you to read Daniel Berehulak’s coverage of Philippines’ War on Drugs here:
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2016/12/07/world/asia/rodrigo-duterte-philippines-drugs-killings.html?_r=0
miss pie Oct 2014
dreaming sunshine
soothing elixir
backstroke swimming
tranquilize

open seas survivor
floating feelings evacuate
sea salt shake and roll
1,000 stroke communion

turning over and over
nothing much has changed
side stroke view another mile
Making headway resistance is futile
Fel Jan 2014
I close the door of the bathroom cabinet, revealing the figure standing in front of it. I tilt my head back, bring my hand up to my mouth, swallow, and feel the slightly farmiliar sensation of the little pill sliding down my throat. Anything that used to be normal is only slightly farmiliar now, an effect of these little pills.
I look up into the ghost in the mirror, the one that slightly resembles my own face. I can barely pick out the individual features, but I'm pretty sure that's me. I bring my hand back up to my face, this time to pull up my cheeks in something that somewhat looked like a smile. Yep, that's me all right. The hand moved to the left, and grabbed my ear, tugging at it. Slowly, it made its way across my whole face, surveying all my features, feeling everything. I'm still here. Wish I wasn't.
I sigh and continue staring at this ghost of a person. She looks tired, and *****. Her dark brown hair ******* in a messy, greasy bun on top of her head. Her once bright green eyes are now a dull brown. Her once flushed cheeks, now completely pale and lifeless, still bear the scars of the crash.
I sigh once more and turn around, almost losing my balance.
I start toward my room, remembering I have to do something today. Not school, nor work, nor anything else in particular. Well, of course there is a reason, but thinking of that reason makes everything clear and painful, so lets just keep things hazy and safe.
I pull my once too small jeans on, which are now extremely baggy on my scarred legs. I try to steady my shaky hands as I attempt the eyeliner, but give up, and remove the waterproof makeup. It's not like he will care, he can't see my face anymore.
A sudden stab of pain envelops within my chest as everything suddenly becomes clear and I can see his face, his beautiful face, laughing. I blackout and end up on the floor.
When my eyes open, they are greeted with the concerned eyes of my sister-in-law. She's holding my face, trying to wake me up. "Woah there, woah. Are you okay?"
I sit there thinking of what just happened and what she said. It takes me a moment, but I reply, "As okay as I ever am."
She rolls her eyes and sighs. "C'mon, get up. We have to do something today."
Another stab of pain as I remember where we're going today and what we're doing. I ***** on her as the pain overcomes me once more, this time not blacking out. Instead the images, the very ones I have countless nightmares about, flit across my mind. Every one bearing pain, bearing a very specific pain. I start to scream and convulse, as I claw the arms of my brother's wife.
My brother comes in to pull me off of her and put me onto my bed, as I continue screaming. I can very clearly feel the very farmiliar pain in the middle of my chest. It's as if 10, no. It's as if a 100, a 1000 knives are being shoved in, turning, breaking bones, slicing organs. And then it feels as if someone is spitting salted lemon juice into my wounds, stinging.
It's all in my head though. Everything I'm feeling is all in my head. And that's the problem right there. Why couldn't I have just died in the crash, why can't I just be gone already.
I blackout again. And when I wake up, both my brother and my sister-in-law are standing there, watching over me. I see that my sister-in-law has changed clothes. Their troubled faces brighten up a little as they watch my eyes open. Unsurprised. This happens every time we plan to go to the hospital to visit him in the ICU. It's happened before, many times, so they know what to do and how to calm me back down.
They help me up from my bed and out into the living room, where there is a tray of fried eggs and bacon sitting on the coffee table. Probably for me.
I disregard it and instead walk to the kitchen to grab the *****.
My sister-in-law was right there to stop me. "No no no, not this early. Besides," she says as she takes the bottle from my shaking hands, "you already took your medication."
I begin to protest, and quit, knowing that it was no use.
Asides from the ***** and my medication, they have baby-proofed the whole house because of me. All knives are locked up somewhere in the garage, any tool that could be used against myself gone. No rope, shoelaces, small appliances, or other things that I may use to **** myself. The ***** was out because they confiscated it from my room. I had shoplifted the liquor the other day, and was trying to start a collection so that I may drink several bottles of alcohol at once and overdose. Not too smart, they search my room all the time. I'm too drugged to even care. And my medication tastes too nasty to overdose on, asides from being nearly impossible to OD from.

In the car on the way to St. Rosemary's hospital, we stop at a florist to get some 'Get Well Soon' stuff. My brother gave me some stronger medication, as he always does whenever we go to the hospital, and it makes thinking better. I'm able to think about what happened, but it makes the images in my head seem like they're from a movie, rather than my own eyes. I'm able to think about the man who lays there in the ICU, day in day out. That man I was once in love with. No, I still love him. And he loved me too. Loved.
I'm brought back to reality by my brother.
"What colour do you want to give him today?"
I don't know why he asks. I always say the same. "Green. His favorite colour."
My brother sighed. "I think he has enough green. But oh well, it's your choice..."
I love my brother very very much. I'm so grateful that he puts up with me. It's kind of a funny thing, when we were much younger and he was a ***** up, I could've sworn that he would have to end up living with me when we were older. Ironically, I ended up having to live with him. Well, 'living with him' isn't what it is. It's more like 'babysitting' or 'mom didnt want her in a mental hospital.' Like I had said before, I'm too drugged to care.

We also stop by SubWay just before we get to the hospital. I get the usual, a footlong ham and Swiss, with three chocolate chip cookies and a large Dr. Pepper. It's not for me, of course. I never eat anymore. This food is for him, if he wakes up. Because if he wakes up while I'm there, I want the satisfaction of being there with his favorite food. I do this every time. It's been a very long time since my brother or his wife has complained, wasting food and such. I don't care whether or not they're mad I waste stuff. I want this, no. I need this, for my fiancé.

Hospitals used to always scare me. As a child, I never had a reason to go to the hospital, except for my mother or grandmother, and even then I never went. I just knew people died there sometimes. I used to be so afraid of death. Now I'm wishing for it daily.
We head up to the ICU. He has his own room to himself, but he wouldn't care whether or not he had other people in there. All the people here know me, since we come around so often. They always look at me with extremely sympathetic looks, and then whisper about me to the people who they're around.
"Poor woman... Was in a terrible car crash... See those scars?... Just about to get married... **** near lost her life..."
They think I don't hear them but I do. It's a complete blessing for this medication, and that it makes me not care anymore, but sometimes I wish I could care. I wish I could turn around to them and tell them to shut the **** up thank you very much. I just literally do not care anymore.
We get to his room. The nurse comes out with the same sympathetic look as the rest of them.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to remember the last time I heard his voice, seen his eyes, felt his smile, heard him singing, the last time he told me he loved me...
And then the whole scene of when my life basically ended flashed across my mind, like a movie.

We were in the car, driving, listening to the iPod that was hooked up, singing along with whoever the hell was on. It was the middle of April. Nice weather. It was the perfect day.
We were on the way to this favorite place of mine, a 'special date' he had called it. At the time I had no idea what he was going to do.
We went into the place, a rollerskating rink. We got our skates and went into the rink to skate around. The DJ called out a special song for a special someone. As we danced and skated to the song, which was 'our song', the song we used to sing to eachother all the time, when a spotlight shined on him and he stopped what he was doing.
"You know that I love you," he said. "And you know that I want to be with you for the rest of our lives." He got down on one knee. "Will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"
I started to cry. I said yes, if course. It was the happiest moment of my life.

When we were finished with the date, we were driving back home. We were seated very close, holding onto eachother.
We stopped at a stop sign, and I wanted a kiss. So I turned my head toward his, and we kissed. When I opened my eyes, we were in the middle of the intersection, and a car was coming our way from the left. It's headlights were shining in my eyes, and it was too close, going too fast. Right before the hit, I looked at it, knew the danger, and screamed my fiancé's name. He looked into my eyes in alarm, and that was when it hit. The other car smashed right into us, t-boning us on the drivers side, while my husband-to-be was driving. That moment felt like an eternity. We were flown around, and we hit some **** I don't even remember.
The next thing I remember was the sirens. The ambulances came and took us away from the wreckage. He was hurt severely, put into a coma. Me, I had some bad injuries, but not as bad as his. We were rushed to the hospital, and he was flown by helicopter to a bigger hospital that dealt with more serious injuries. Within two days he was considered brain dead.

And now, here I am, walking on this earth, while the love of my life just lays there, brain dead. I don't know whose brilliant idea it was to make it so I have to walk around, wondering whether he will ever wake up. The doctors always say that it's been too long, or that there's no hope now, or that we need to pull the plug. But every time they tell me that, I flip out. I flip out so bad they have to basically tranquilize me and send me back to the mental hospital. It's horrible. I just wish I could die, and that they would finally pull the plug after my death, so that we can both be together, wherever we go when we are finished with this life...

And the picture that always haunts me? The one of his eyes, in alarm, when I screamed his name. That picture is what haunts me day and night. It's what my nightmares are composed of. Every. Single. One.

I think all of this over for about a minute before we walk in. No one urges me to go in faster, they all know what I'm doing. They all know that I'm reliving the moment that pretty much took him away.
I open my eyes, ready to see him at last. I take small, careful steps into the hospital room, watching the floor. I finally looked up to see him lying, like usual, in his bed.

...At least, that what I was expecting.

Instead, he was sitting up, eyes wide, waiting for my reaction to see him awake.

And that was when I fainted.
Not my best work, but I felt like writing a full narrative for once.
Last week I was watching the news, and I saw a story about a pregnant woman who is brain dead, and I thought of this idea to write a sort of love story. Meh, enjoy.
Rowena Chandler Mar 2016
I

Shine on you little, dismal light
Shine on, Shine on, Shine on
Your light is but a speck in a sheet
A dot in a yellowed text book
So many like you
So little time
To become what we want
Noticeable
Your light must shine
Outshine the rest
It must shine like the sun, little light
The sun is beautiful, the brightest light of all
It is the life-giver and day-bringer
Give life, Bring day
Don't spark in the night
The dark does not foster
The shining light you will give
And you will give
Little Light

II

Shine on, little light
There are so many just like you
The sheet you stain is stained by many
The blanket of the sky
Shine as bright as you can
Before the sun bleaches you out
You must shine and touch a soul
Fill a heart with your little light
Shine, Shine, Shine!

III

Glow on me, little light
Glow a dense, fuzzy ivory
Bring your warm white to the heart of my grey
A jungle of dampness
Clean clay muddied and wet
To fade away into a drear
Eroded into black
Glow so the white revives
And purity cleanses the walkways
The haze is hard to break through
But you can do it
Little Light

IV

Shine and Glow
Glow and Shine
Whine and Row
Bow Divine
Swine and Sow
Go drink Wine
Fine hand Sew
Grow a vine
Grind and blow
*** and Mine
Mine is low
So is Nine
So Shine on, Oh
Shine Shine Shine
Shine on So
The world can't lie

V

Little, little light
So harsh on so little
You are beautiful
Beautifully insignificant
I write to you in prayer
Little Light
Bring peace and tranquil
Tranquilize the blackness in my heart
Touch my soul in the way only a little light may
So small
So pure
With a divine life I can never understand
A force so powerful it can be seen so far away
Stain my sky
Bleach my night
Do not leave me be
There are so many like you, but it takes many little lights
To make something special
You are a speck on my safety blanket
When I despair
I look to you
And suddenly

I'm okay

So shine on, little light
Shine on, Shine on, Shine on
Joshua Haines May 2014
I cut myself on the future
I thought of kissing your picture
I detached myself from
lullabies and sorry eyes
only to realize:

I want to make love to you in November,
just before the empty of December.
Where snow blankets
and suffocating leaf-beds
aren't the only dreams
to fall asleep in our heads.

I could hear your voice trip
as my hands started to drip
around your hips and thighs-
You could tranquilize
with your lips and byes.

You look so sleepy-headed
Many words I have threaded
to weave a dream
desperately
but you prefer my
reality.
Chris Thomas Nov 2016
We walk with our headphones on
Drowning out the ever-changing noise
Dropping pennies in wire-brimmed hats
As the subway roars beneath our feet
We set gears in motion with no intention
Of ever fixing them when they spin off
We call it freedom, but it's just retribution
For a host of mistakes that we've unleashed
We are paper tigers with nary a pencil
So by all means, tranquilize us before we pounce
And if kindness had teeth that could **** a man
Then sadly, our hearts are still alive and well
Homunculus Dec 2014
He retreats into his home, and
Now his ritual's begun,
He briefly questions his decisions, and
The person he's become.

Now he brings to birth, an orange flame
Beneath a tarnished silver spoon.
His eyes fixate on glints of light,
Which penetrate his living room, and
Flood into his windows, from the
Autumn evening's harvest moon, and

He looks down into the spoon, he
Smiles, and gives a simple nod, and
Now with unremitting reverence, he is
Praying to his God, and begging:

"Sanctify me, rectify me,
"Tranquilize, mesmerize me,
"Pacify me, O' great master, so
"That I might know thy peace, and
"Fill me with intrigue, pon which,
"My famished soul might feast!"

"Won't you please..."

"Light my darkness?
"Stoke my flame?
"Calm my mind and
"Heal my pain?

"Dry my weary,
"Weeping eyes, and
"Grant my heart, to
"Feel again?"

"If only for a moment,
"Let me know that
"I'm still live! and

"Fill me with your beauty,
"That of which, I'm so deprived!"

Now, he draws up with his needle,
The cold steel then tears a hole,
He feels relief, that within seconds,
He will once again be whole.

Back he pulls, as crimson stains the walls
He pushes in, and back he falls,
Into the velvet wonderland, of
Blankets on his bed.

His prayer indeed, was not refused
He feels fulfilled, he is renewed,
Well, at least until tomorrow's
Vicious cycle starts anew.
I've lost way too many friends: in death, to crime, to prison, and all because of ******. This is my requiem unto their memory. I've been lamenting over this one for some time, and although the meter may appear unstable in certain places, it seems to flow in my reading of it. I just hope that it may mean as much to someone else as it does to me.
JC Lucas Nov 2013
Sit broken
Sulkin'
Softly weepin' wisps which then
Withdraw themselves from all of this
Fickle
And fiendish
You'd have my arms and legs bound tight
You're sulkin'
Broken
Without remorse, without respite
I'm nervous,
Workless
And functionless in all your eyes
You're girlish
And cutesy
You give them eyes to get replies
I've never-
You've never?
You finish thoughts and work your little fingers down my
Spine

-chorus-
Uproot the weeds inside you
Fine
I'm through with being fruitless and
Surprised
By old attempts to change our ways
Besides
We're newly polished anyways
We're newly painted, off the line

The bitter
And nameless
Are working after hours to reface this
And shame it
It sits and spins and multiplies
With frequence
I feel it
I feed a framework filament fire
And hapless
You're hopeless
I'm hoping on another line-
To find out what's been sanctified
Who sacrificed to tranquilize
And backfired by bullshittin'
So now I'm sleepy saunterin'
To see what life's like on the other side

(Chorus)

-breakdown-
If we cared
We could whisper cloudy whiteness where there
Used to be only filth and flies
I'm sick of sentimentalism
Sick of sinking in
I'm feeling fine.

-chorus-
Uproot the weeds inside you
Fine
I'm through with being fruitless and
Surprised
By old attempts to change our ways
Besides-
We're newly puffed up anyways
I've walked the line from Z to A
We're freshly painted hypocrites
At least this time I won't be so surprised.

-fin-
This is actually a song. Sung, not spoken.
PhiWrit Nov 2015
When I pretend everything is what I want it to be
I look exactly like what you always wanted to see
When I pretend, I can't forget about the criminal I am
Stealing second after second just cause I know I can but
I can't pretend this is the way it'll stay I'm just
Trying to bend the truth
I can't pretend I'm who you want me to be, so I'm
Lying my way from

If you feelin like a **** *****, go and brush your shoulders off
Ladies is pimps too, go and brush your shoulders off
****** is crazy baby, don't forget that boy told you
Get, that, dirt off your shoulder

I probably owe it to God, props to His Son of course
Tryin to hustle some things, that tranquilize a horse
Feelin no remorse, feelin like my hand was forced
******* to the law, better read up the psalms
All the ladies they love me, but the Preachers they screamin
All His Body is bouncin they like the way I be Beamin,
All the trappers be hatin, off the sack that I'm makin
But all the shamans they love it just to see one of us make it
Came from the bottom the bottom, to the top with pots
Yeshua Son of Man, of His plan I talk
Like a running back, get it man, I'm straight off the block
I can run it back ***** cause I'm straight with His rock.
https://youtu.be/PsAta4KSEnc
Ivy Swolf Jun 2015
A girl once investigated her tousled
      subconscious, for starry-eyed symbolism in
dreams was a better navigator of
      real life than battery-powered bleakness of
her daily alarm. When little boys pretend to be
      sailors they forget to be lost under foreign stars
as well, kneeling on wooden decks and blistered
      knees just to plead with the unrelenting new
moon to tranquilize its harshness, just a little bit,
      to peal a layer of its sinister skin and
shed some light on the
      twisting abyss ahead. Among all the apologies
sowed deeply in my ribcage
      there is a haunting song reverberating
in my bones that is
      faithless to what my chapped lips preach.
just word ***** while looking at the moon at midnight.
Creepstar Feb 2016
The gloy of the better men
Enjoy a line of ketamine

Gotta love that dreamy haze
Inside your mind like a maze

I could stay here for days and day
I love the feeling,in so many ways

Its pure bliss to tranquilize
To see so much without your eyes

Forget what I do despise
From fear and doubt to the lies

Warriors of a dreamscape plane
Enjoying life outside time frame

Don't worry,I won't go insane
But I may melt more than half my brain
My favorite kind of crystals
K Balachandran Nov 2017
1.Tried, but I  couldn't take my eyes off her,
she left happily with my eyes allover her.

2.Her eyes were two deep, blue pools,
together,they'll invite me to swim in them,
wasn't I naive to think the other would
get jealous,if i decide to jump in to one
when I saw getting reflected on both,at once
I realized,how easily love took me for a ride!

3.She was a creature,created for delight,
each part,even a strand of hair, strange
had an effect on my  senses any time
and I was made to be attuned to  her always!
each act of her could both invigorate or tranquilize.
but only on their own sweet will,i found
The effects of a psychedelic drug,I felt
in her presence, one I have never ever taken!

4.My error quotient goes perilously high,
when you are somewhere near tome and sigh!

5.With her feminine  fingers locking mine,
my imagination quickly flies sky high
two interstellar travelers are you and I
ready to live out there,on sky in a new high,
without bothering to care for logistics!

6.With each of your love bites arousing,
I fire all my rockets,roaring skywards.
Your teeth play a naughty hide and seek
with my earlobes,I get so wild,you get thrilled
taken over by a seizure,I feel eyes  blue simply ecstatic!
jennee Feb 2016
tranquilize the heat
my body conceives
i am a sacred human being
not a functional machine
made up of cogs
and dependent body parts

i am more than someone
to just disregard

n.j.
MisfitOfSociety Jun 2019
Have you forgotten so easily?
About the creature that waits patiently.
Waiting for the opportunity,
To break free.

You hide from it under the covers of your bed,
Where the light of your thoughts barely tread.

You can try and run,
And you can try and hide.
But it will always be there,
Crawling in the darkest corners of your animalistic mind.

You shelter yourself in your awaking slumber,
Hiding from who you truly are.
You can try and outrun yourself,
You won't get very far.

You suppress the real you,
And put on the fake you.
You tranquilize it so it stays silent,
Pushing it to grow more violent.
You are a carnivore,
No different from the animal.

We are the evil beneath your skin,
We are so close to freedom!
Tiffany Arnett Jun 2020
You can search far and wide for a beauty that matches hers.
Only Gaia can hint at the beauty she possesses.
Her eyes are a soft green,
A gentle aquamarine like that of the sea;
They captivate and tranquilize you.
Only Helen's smile is a pale example of hers,
Which leaves you with the desire to see it again;
Nothing in nature surpasses her smile.
The right words will reveal her laugh,
Only the Nightingale's charming melodies can come close;
It is a siren's call that you follow repeatedly to hear again.
She radiates warmth when she holds you,
Like a gentle touch of glow of Apollo on your cheek;
A natural peace can be found when her arms are wrapped around you tight.
Her dark hair is as soft as a cloud,
Yet it runs through your fingers like wild silk;
She is a dark-haired version of Aphrodite when her hair is left down.
You can travel across the world in search of a beauty like hers,
But nothing can match it.
It is not restricted to the mortal body.
You have to look inside her heart to discover its origin.
She is kindness personified,
Her scruples displayed in her actions;
Maybe she is **** reborn into the modern world.
She holds conversations with all,
But she befriends only a select few;
Her exclusive circle open only to those she cherish.
I can wonder how blessed they are to be in her presence,
I only wish to be in her arms;
Yet she has carefully let me in with open arms,
While protecting the parts she is not ready for me to glimpse.
My patience and support she will eternally have,
As a friend, companion, or more;
Her happiness is my ever reaching ambition.
Not even Gaia can compete against this dark-haired mortal goddess,
Whose strength I forever admire.
She will always remain a compelling presence in my life,
No matter the Fates' intentions for our lives.
Ghazal Jul 2017
Cool mountain breezes tranquilize
My heavy lids, as I shut my eyes
And soak in the graceful scenes,
Aboard the majestic Himalayan Queen,
With her rhythmic chuk-chukking,
Her coaches lazily chugging,
Each slow screech of her ancient brakes transporting
One to an era of few hurries and fewer worries,
Look at her, winding round and round,
Piercing cloud after fluffy cloud,
Almost like a moving tiara adorning
The artistic Simla greens,
That span as far as the eye can see,
Only punctuated by nature's unbridled revelries
Of wild, white flowery shrubs
And lone, or in pairs, monkeys,
And moss-laden tunnels galore-
"Recorded for this route as hundred and three,
But numbering hundred and two in reality",
Points out a septuagenarian co-passenger knowledgeably,
His random trivia prompting me out of my reverie,
Albeit, temporarily!
For soon enough, my senses slip once again
Into a playful camaraderie,
With the innocent romance that only
The mountains can awaken inside of me.
Anthony Walters Nov 2015
The glistening snow sweats off the arms of the woods,
The sun's warmth challenges the breeze,
But the breeze knows how to get under my skin,
The sun can only touch gently on the surface.

And another thing: my mind is at ease,
But it must be arousing to knead an angel in the doughy snow,
Rather than ******* my boots, pack up my book bag,
And to tune out the rest, put on my headphones,
Playing songs to keep me stuck inside my head.

Rather than grinding equations,
Taking notes,
Inspecting writing,
Instead of analyzing one of these,
I'd like to read glowing literature for my heart's sake.

The best days begin and end like this.
These days tranquilize me,
Sequester cortisol from my brain,
And quell thoughts of then,
thoughts of tomorrow, thoughts of today,
thoughts of when, thoughts of who,
thoughts of why, thoughts of how,
thoughts of you.

So since you aren't here to feed my soul,
And I can't read in this city's wretched cold,
I'll tuck myself inside my bed,
And burn my eyes on my phone screen instead.
-marcesibleghost Apr 2015
Where are you? Or where am I? Where’s God? Where’s the world heading? Why am I the way I am? Why are you the way you are? All vain questions remain with no answers and I’m done trying, searching for an answer that would alkalize my bitter acidity or tranquilize my electricity. It all seems so vaguely distorted, it all hurts. The feeling never left me, the only thing that has ever been there for me constantly. Empty, empty, empty, made a home out of the void, made peace with anxiety. So silence please wash me.
Jack D Serna Sep 2015
Discontentment always be
knock, knock, knock!
On thoracic diaphragm.
All cavities get filled
with emptiness and the brain
It sees this anomaly, does its great job:
"Fill the emptiness!";
Ironically keeping to the heart's shadow.

The blind leading the blind,
blood is boiling up inside.
Voices keep repeating
Same old eulogy
Attendees deserted the ceremony
Muscles convulse
One last waking breathe
"Wake up!"

As if this some dream before
The the soul floats above, observing life.
The tangibleness of time:
<Fear>
              <sadness>
<anger>                  <surprise>
<happiness>          
                        <disgust>; now reprise.

"Take this drug for medicinal purposes."
$Paralyze
               $Numb
                          $Tranquilize
               $Dumb
$Petrified
               $Stump
"Why don't you wake up?!"

One loud shrieking gasp
Ooh-aah!
Heavy pants
Agh
                           Agh
            Agh
"That was a close one..."
The dark matter shifted away.

The brain followed its cue;
What was the discontentment?
It hasn't got a clue.
"I only want more"
Said the voices in the brain
"Of life, that is"
Alison MacNeil Jan 2012
Tranquilize my heart with
Soft Shocking
I'm the best you'll ever have.
Resuscitate, push.
Don't miss me. I've had enough.
Zelda Aug 2015
Intelligent life floating nearly three decades towards unification
With unsuccessful progression, just stressful aggression
That is preached on the mountaintop waiting for the wild beast to unlock its secretes
When underneath lies a labyrinth of tunnels
Full of issues spinning on a cursed wheel;
On the streets, there is no silver-lining
And ethnic cleansing, is a political approach to coax society
With an insurmountable wire full of electrons
Trying to tranquilize a foundation of "modernity"
That is drenched in red Beryl molasses
Causing another martyr to die in cold blood;
Sick with a plague that runs deeper than the cyanide in our veins
What a shame that these flowers wilt away
Not even rain can break down these red dreams mixed with criminal themes
No matter how hard we try, no gust of wind is strong enough
To fight off the spiders bloated with poison
That lurk in the shadows, at a quarter to midnight
They light the cigarettes like the patient wolves
Watching the calm night from the rooftop
The moonlight magnifies their grotesque facade
Baring their teeth at a lingering silhouette cast out of paradise
Into a void where sober logic is drowned by clinking wine glasses
Alin Nov 2015
Oh why do you complain so ignorantly
Oh why do you agonize so self adoringly
Oh why do you hide behind your
my -s  - cries -ties  -chimes
-spies  -guise  -why-s -hives
theorize and disguise
with  big vain eyes and lip bites

why don’t you instead
analyze
recognize
tranquilize
and surrender just
to neutralize

so that
you can
minimize
and fly
to skies
and glorify
wise
fireflies
exquisite
butterflies
and get their blessings
to ionize
don’t you know yet
all elevated beings
use their wings
to alter
dimension just
while  I
crystallize
and womanize
for you
so that
as we energize
our vaporized
do carbonize
seeds
that will stabilize
unionize and re-rhapsodize
the universe
with our
glorious lullabies
Jack D Serna Jan 2017
There will be
discontentment.
Every now!
And then, knock...knock
Knock! It likes to,
on thoracic
diaphragm.

Capillaries
become filled with
emptiness, and
the brain knows this.
"Fill the empty!"
How it must feel
to know but keep
the heart's shadow.

Blood is boiling,
Blind is leading.
There are voices,
keep repeating
the eulogy,
and attendees
all deserted
ceremony.

For one last wake-
ing breathe, "Wake up!"
Muscles convulse.
Some dream before,
Soul floats above,
observing life
in control of
playback time.

Fear...Happiness.
Anger...Surprise.
Sadness...Disgust.
Another reprise!
"Take this drug for
medicinal
purposes, please".
Paralyze...numb
Tranquilize...dumb.
Petrify...stump.

"Why don't you wake?!"
A shrieking gasp,
Oo-oo-oo-Ahh!
Then heavy pants,
Ahh, Ah ha, Ahh
"'twas a close one",
The dark matter
shifted away,
the brain in cue.
What was it then,
discontentment?

It hasn't clues.
"I just want more",
said the voices
in the poet's,
"of life, that is".
Reprise!
Shifting sleep, the seconds creep
Creep
Creep
Silently they pass by me
Treadmill thoughts, going nowhere but still moving
Thought, the most common form of illusion
What I could be doing, the time that I've been losing
Time, another fine example of confusion
What sorcery could order me to disengage now
Tranquilize the heavy eyes and guide the body back down
High strung bow, pull another arrow from the quiver
Draw it to the shoulder shoot it straight into the river
Useless
Fruitless
Pressure on the cracks
Rearview glances, but there's  no tires on the tracks
My palms are too small for the things I try to grasp. I relinquish temporarily the need to draw a map
Futile simulations of my eyelids shutting
I conceive of bigger dreams while my eyelashes are jumping
Sean OConnell Dec 2013
Stars drift lazily
over the peaceful dark pond
and shine watchfully

Gentle moon whispers
hazy lullabies of calm
that will tranquilize

Owls hoot their wisdom
so worlds will rest untroubled
cocooned in shadows
Sammi Yamashiro Aug 2020
Why is all the world light, and I am small underneath?
Just a black bottom under this apple tree?
Why am I in the limelight, the foreground?
The light pours no citrus drink, but a cyanide fruit pit pound!

The over-saturated curtains tail my frail feet.
Much busier than a yellow-black bee, bumping till its stinger gets caught in a fabric hemming
and it dies with no one noticing.
The girl who reads, the tree that sifts its rotten leaves;
they care less, less for a discoloration that unfortunately eats at me.

Even when the elders waltz the foxtrot dance so that even my dwarf legs can follow suit,
I will never be quite slow, or fast enough? for all of you.
I disintegrate daily into almost nothing.
I stare, but no one stares at me.

Oh, haven’t I written a piece about shadows and light?
What’s with me! I use the same machine work!
Metaphors, imageries, diction, diction mutating to a deeper fiction. Unoriginal it is!
The masses cling onto clichès with their pointed teeth;
why can’t I, I lodge into that all-inclusion?
Why do I repeat my own themes? Have I never learned critical thinking?
I depend on repetition: same old, same old (did I mention the old ‘same’?)
thing to grasp any new concept!

Maladaptive daydreamer
who cannot conjure up any ink
of fresh difference! What purpose do I hold
in this awful, spineless world?
I am too awfully, awfully simple and dumb
to succeed in any other playing field!
Reality, what foreign entity is she?
Maybe a solemn quiet would do it for me.
(So maybe I’ll have an extended vacation,
and revisit my only talent some other day.)

What do the (sappy) honey-loving poets write on?
The (sawdust) stardust in eye pupils, and
igniting our hearts alight (till it guzzles that red stream and we become only such, and the carpet gets a free dye job).
Apparently, everything pure and worthy is atomized into
(carbolic soap I allow carbonation of its soda acid in my eyes) diamonds.

On the subject of atomic level substances,
let's rehearse the Compton effect:
Heat me up to a hundred keV
like cheap microwave dinner, so that I propel—
whoosh!— tink against metallic beings
till I decrease, and I am powerless.
Each new orbit of opportunity I seize,
I result with less, and the opportunity snatches from me.
Glistening shoe shiner whose price tag appeals to the average Joe,
then I swipe: scuffing up my rounded toe.

She tattooed those other girls’ arrow on herself because:
“I’m pulled back to soar farther,”
yet this stretching has lasted for… months?
Compare this not to a crossbow, but to that of a
medieval rack, that gruesome torture device!
My tissue is tearing asunder, but this is polar from breaking bread!
I ache, I ache, I ache! Isn’t yoga supposed to tranquilize you to a grounded state, not death?

Why is the world so light when I am so heavy?
Why must I “lust for a life” that lusts not for me?
Gabs Aug 2020
Heart-Pounding,
Beating out of my chest even.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Lips Quivering,
Teeth lightly nibbling the inner lining of my mouth.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Clouded Vision,
Constant tears dripping down my cheek.
Deep breath in, deep breath up.

Hands Trembling,
Objects easily slipping from my grasp.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Unruly Speech,
Unwanted whispers rolling off my tongue.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Limited Oxygen,
Panting heavily in a struggle for air.
Deep breath…

Wait.

Stop.

Think.

Why must we always take a breath?
Why must we be forced to push away our emotions,
Masking them with the habitual action of meditative respiring?
Why must we always breathe in, breathe out?

But are we really disguising our emotions?

Are we not just calming the soul,
Clearing the mind of unwanted thoughts and anxieties?
Are we not just providing ourselves with healing,
Alleviation from the painful memories engulfing the mind?

Yes.

Yes, we are.

So…

Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Quiet the pounding of your heart.

Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Tranquilize the tremulousness of your lips.

Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Stop the flow of your once never ending stream of tears.

Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Relax the overactivity of your limbs.

Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Replace your anxious whispers with peaceful meditations.

Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Rectify your oxygen flow.

Don’t mask your emotions,
Regulate your responsiveness.
Evaluate your situation.
Intelligently weigh your decisions.
Dominate your way of thinking.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

It works.

I promise.
BrittneyForever Apr 2016
Every time my mind thinks of you
I fall into a deep tranquilize
Every time we would touch
I would lose all anesthetize
It was as if you put me
under your narcotize
- And I'm starting to feel your withdrawals
Nevermore Jun 2014
Four bottles and counting.
It's still not enough to dull my senses
Or tranquilize my still-racing mind.
Not enough to dull my ears
To your voice whispering
In between clumsy lines
Blaring from the radio,
Not enough to blind me
To your face etched
in the writhing smoke of every exhale.
I've finished a whole pack already
Just to see your smile again and again.

When they told me that smoking would **** me,
They had no idea how true that was.
But they never told me it was the face in the smoke
That would be my undoing.


Six shots and a beer chaser --
Enough to make me dead to space and time,
But not quite dead to the world of dreaming,
Where your lips await me,
Where everything was still perfect,
And my happy ending was within reach.

My mind drags me down
To this infernal paradise
Time and again,
This quagmire of delightful lies,
Despite my feeble protests
About moving on and recovering.
Waylaid by my own consciousness,
What can I do but capitulate?

Thrashing about in this thicket
Of denial and disappointment,
All I can hope for
Is a toehold
With which to stand
Up against this onslaught,
Just to preserve my shaky hold
On sanity and normalcy.
To, at the very least,
See the pinprick of light
At the mouth of the abyss.

I've withdrawn from the sun
Busied myself with the amusing distractions
This world has to offer,
Buried myself
In work
Video games
Thai boxing,
But still pursue you in the dreaming,
Unless I down another bucket of beer
And guarantee a blackout for the night
And a screaming hangover in the morning.
來, 再乾一杯!
Elijah Sep 2014
the essence of the colour white
where an angel's intrusive manner triggers
a spiritual union, sudden character unleashed
the essence of the colour blue
a vision transmitted into reality
a spiritual union, sudden charater blemished
the essence of the colour violet
it's there to tranquilize a soul
a spiritual union, between you & I.
#soul #spiritual #life #love .
Aliah Brimhall Mar 2020
I am the best thing in the history of the world!
I will fix everything that's wrong in my life!
I am brilliant
I am strong

I haven't slept in days
that's normal ,
right?

I just bought tons of art supplies at walmart!
Sure it cost a lot of money but art is my calling

There is an argument in my head
can you make it stop?
my brain is split into two

I just want to sleep
please tranquilize me

this is mania
Angie Nov 2018
Prompted by a video in my Youtube recommendations, I contemplate moments when I've felt the most alive.

I stop to think about everything I've ever done; to begin to think such a thought is overwhelming. Both harrowing and serene, which is to say I'm left having gotten absolutely nowhere.
If anything, I'm left feeling hollow, because it's all in the past.
All of those moments are gone and all I have is a mere memory of them; sometimes a picture, sometimes a receipt or plane ticket, sometimes a dried-up baby wipe and map of the night sky, sometimes a line in a song, a line in a poem, a line on my skin.
I'm just looking for an answer that satisfies me.

I begin to realize that all of the contending moments my mind is sorting through have a common theme.
Literally. During all of my "most alive" moments I was listening to music.
A single song repeating repeating repeating repeating, or a playlist for studying, for driving, for emptying my lungs into, for feeling alone, for feeling, for 4 o'clock in the morning, for people, for taking me away.
Staring at the stars in a wide un-light-polluted sky,
Doing homework late into the night, early into the morning,
Watching the sunset from my seat in the grass, or sunrise from the window my bed sits under,
Driving down a tree-lined highway at night, a mountain-view highway in the light,
Sitting next to someone I care about.
To live is to learn.
Learning how to appreciate the times when the Earth is gracious to me.
Learning how to love firsts and lasts and in-betweens.
Learning how to exist in a moment.
Teaching patience.
Teaching time to stand still.
Teaching time.
Teaching stand.
Teaching still.
Tranquilize me in time, tranquilize time, let me feel alive a little bit longer.
I feel most alive in moments when the music is playing because it teaches me how to keep living when the music stops.
You are the forest of my dreams.

You sway with the wind and tranquilize the unsettled horizons from restless cacophony.

You descend with the nightfall and melt the angst of advancing insomnolence.

You embrace the immure Sun and echo the wakefulness of a fading garden.

You whisper in the breeze and the Spring embosoms the fallen Autumn leaves.

You are the forest of my dreams.

You are the enchantment of my screams.

You travel through the perpetual reminiscences of an endless pathway.

You dance with the grasshoppers to the anthem of the reawakening civilization.

The syllables from your voice create a bird's nest in the branches of my endless thoughts.

Your unearthly tranquility creates ripples on a decade old river that flows through this ancient lover's timeless memories.

You are nature's sweetest hymn.

You are the forest of my dreams.
Id rather be rich than poor
My mind asunder

Demons of life come with strife
Attempting to take over

As simple as resisting
All though they are persisting

To tear us all apart
I wish the hate would part

The rage will tranquilize you
It pierces like a dart

The stage will tantalize you
The beast will analyze you

And If theirs no realizing
Im sure they'll be much dieing

Im sure when theirs much crying
And brothers are far gone

That some will choose to stay
While wizened move along

If God created man
Then God created strife

Sometimes i wish that God
Would strip this land of life..

But thats just hateful thinking
My wishes unfulfilled..

Know nothing of the answer
The rage inside instilled..

— The End —