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because when the last light bulb burns out, and when the fire in your heart gets extinguished -

only then will you learn how to overcome the darkness.

- v.m
don't think about that test you're sure to fail. don't think about not getting in to your dream university. don't think about spending your entire life working at mcdonalds. you do you. don't do future you. you are not your past, nor are you your future. live for right now. tell your friends and family you love them. give your sibling a hug. you never know what the future holds - and i think that's an extremely good thing. thank you, and goodbye ✨.
Brent Kincaid Jun 2018
You cringeworthy, evil pismire;
Your father did surely miss-sire
This personification of flatulence,
The embodiment of self importance
Overflowing with abject peccancy
Devoid of any sign of respectability
Replete with gross odoriferousness
Horribly and infamously unscrupulous.

You have reveled in misrepresentation
And tried to elevate your calumniation
Disinformation and deception exists
As capitalistic dissembling persists.
You’ve collected an evil government
Built mostly of human excrement
And have such a lack of veracity
That you speak in constant mendacity.

Sycophantic eructations of dogmatic bile
Issue from your unsympathetic smile
And your inauthentic glad-handed gropes
As if we all of us are unbright gullible dopes
That buy your fabrications completely
While you pilfer and prevaricate indiscreetly.
You are a Vaudevillian villain miscast as star,
But most of us know exactly what you are.

Deceit, deception, dishonesty; a tragedy
But not for you, for us and our country.
Distortion, evasion and fabrication the rules;
You despair of any other kinds of tools.
Falsehoods, fictions and forgery are your tricks.
You demand we build with straw-less bricks
Your erections that are planned to be palaces
Filled with your giant golden carved phalluses.

Those monuments, inanotomically correct,
Established to celebrate and somehow protect
A mountebank on the way to an overseas bank
Claiming to eradicate the scoria he creates
That decades of privation will not quite alleviate.
But you, the Great Prevaricator, will always blame
Other players in your sick, unconstitutional game
Instead of admitting your complicity and guilt
About the disgusting, putrid swamp you built.
Ginn Mosxa Oct 2022
I grow tired
But growth is being done
I stand, weary eyed
Still standing though, aren't I

My mind it tries to fool me
Play off my fragility
What she doesn't know
My hearts become full of hope

It's beating quiet
And sometimes slow
But it's there, that I know
That's all I need to grow

I fidget with anxious thoughts
A troubled mind
She'll tell me awful things
And she'll whisper little lies

"You are not good enough
You will not win
You'll never find your joy
Or Passion

Not beautiful
Untalented, unbright
Crooked girl with crooked mind

A silly child
On a dead end road
Full of fool's gold

Lackluster,
Growth only leads
To withering

Forget this slippery *****
Drop your empty hope,
You are not good enough!"

But I know
These thoughts are merely
Here to protect me
To convince me not to grow
Because growing means
Hurting
And change

Growing means everything
Must be rearranged
And that's scary, I know
But it's something we must do to cope

So quiet down, my mind
I know you think you're being kind
But heart and mind together
We could be so much greater

And I know no matter what
We'll grow through the rough
So lean on me a little
Let this heart beat
For both of us
Sometimes we need a reminder
PK Wakefield Feb 2012
just i

     opening

            my soul
                          
                     oD
                        and
          drawtuo
                        fumbles
                emos
                        unbright
ecnecsednacni
                             some
                                       fuckhot

                                                    magic
                                                                 peeling
                                                                                out
                                                                                        the innumerable
                                                                                                                      jeer
                                                                                                                             of my
                                                                                                                                         and me
                                                                                                                                                        deepest
PK Wakefield Mar 2011
it was so unbright yesternight in the closed nook of a pale painted swinging
swung tight, tightly swinging, quickly singing, breath of fast hair
from the timid article of light uncorking from thy precious bowl:
your remarkably hips. i quipped a sonnet on the marble jelly of your
cresting gluttonous *******; with my hands between the stocky virulent
oaks of your frail gently thighs. and your eyes were scorching, and the
breadth of hours tumbled open and wee
Grace Jordan May 2018
I was ok but I was anxious
I tried to rest to stop twitching, stop groaning, stop my head from ******* pounding
It wasn't worth it
Once my brain stop ticking like a broken clock it settled back down here again
Depressed again
I wondered why this keeps on happening
Not the obvious reason, my bipolar condition isn't the interesting part anymore
But why down now?
Why have things changed?
Then I look outside and am reminded the glaring sun feels so exhausting alone
I only felt better and laid down my crazy head when rain was pouring
I wanted to go outside and drown in it
I was cold
I was lonely
But rain has always made things feel better when everything swings
SAD
Most people hate the winter but for me its the opposite
The burning sky
The heat
The loose skin
I'd rather be wrapped up in my sweater and have the sky not remind me how unbright I can be inside
Its hard to pretend to be brighter than you are next to the sun
In the darkness its easier to be bright
But
Its also easier to feel like the entire universe isn't watching you fail
Easier to feel like even the sky is sad sometimes
I've always felt worse in summers, haven't I?
Funny I never noticed it until now
Funny it fit well with school and college
Now it just makes me feel broken
But a lot of things make me feel broken, don't they?
Guess this is just another
I am an art of human
A seed unto the world cast loose
Holding what's unfurled
Beneath, a lonesome seeker of truth
It is undue to suffer
Through a seemly, caustic night
Unbidden, untoward, unwellitude
Unbeing
And unbright
But in the hull solemnitude
Unmeaning
And unkind
We find ourselves in solitude
Inside a well, unlit
Untied
MMXVI
art being double-meaning for in german Art is type, like species, and has a generally positive connotation in english as comparing oneself to a work of art
don't really know how to make it a clear distinction in the poem without making it pedantic and weird but it seems not to fit with the seed metaphor and really i lost the thread at the end there... the ship is in a well? idk it's an old poem i found in my email and i can't pick up where i left off

always compulsively edit your poems before you lose your train of thought, kids, you will not make heads or tails of it later
cleann98 Apr 2018
A holy night----

All the world's
Fallen unbright

      If this really is heaven
      When did you learn
      How to bite?

Amid the weeping
And the gnashing
The clashing of teeth----

A flickering faltering light

Fall to me...
      Fall in delight.

Let your mind say no
I can hear your body fight

         Every thump a thump
         First a whisper-----
         Next a scream-----
         Then a wail-----
               a blight...
    
  Accompanying teardrops
          Slowly falling
       Sobs. Sobs. Sobs.
          Blurring sight.

    This is our last chance
    Before you close your eyes
         and fall for ever asleep-----

        Good night.
---concept by erza*
Try to read between the between the between the lines, even I don't know what you would find :) That's the beauty of sleep, you don't know what you'd see yet you always have to close your eyes...
sol Apr 2018
They have slain the life
who lit my eyes alight.

They have slain the sky,
in all colourful starlight.

They have slain my flame,
leaving dead coals unbright.

And they have slain
all my feeling.
My moon, my sun,
all is dead and gone.

And they have slain
the mercy inside me.
I will break the stars
to bring back what was
ours.

Now I have slain,
and as you wait for me,
in the skies beyond the sea,
know you were my mercy.
jeffrey conyers Oct 2018
The greatest thing about election.
Is the gained rights to vote.
And the fear mongers among us.And the various bright and unbright fools that dives into it.

The insecure cave fast into following the message.
We seen it with ******.
And we saw it long before elect chief clown.
And visit various social video sites you see the group.

Stroking fear to their so called master race.

To uplift them like others group.
We must cut some down.

Cruz, a name that don't connect to England, Scotland seem like a clone we call go along.
Desantis, another heritge that has no connection to the master race country ometimes makes you wonder.

That many will sell themselves to the devil to get elected.

Stroking fear is act used to do it.

— The End —