Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Korey Miller Nov 2012
let's make a deal.
uncap the bottle,
discover my greatest work-
a soliloquy on sentience,
performed to an empty room.
the walls
are bleeding lead poisoning again
and i
am leaving logic behind.


the air is crisp on my wretched skin
and as the world dies
its aching breath helps me
to finally feel alive.
i am pure white.

let me rise, enlightened.
as i float, breathless,
i can feel, finally,
the weight of my bones.
make me into a sparrow,
feast upon my marrow,
so i can become porous-
but leave my hollow mind whole.

idolize me.
spin my disease into pure beauty.
a stone-cold rose
grounds the coffin for my dreams,
liberating me from responsibility.
awaken me.
strip my heavy corpse of its wings,
eviscerate the breath from my lungs
cease my tangibility


oh glory,
build me up
strip me down
to my knuckles and teeth,
to the weathered bone.
remove the bloodstains from my home.

if i bleed now
it will be beautiful
when i fall, i
will glorify the cement, decorate it
with my shining insides
when i come down
it will be stunning
it will be dreadful
and i will be resplendent


-but the delivery
won't change the content
candy wrapping
can't cover up the stench of death-

i have given up
on purging the necrosis from my tissue
i have found
this tantalizing muse once again, and
once more i
will let her put cigarettes out
on my sorry skin.

i've grown to love the smell,
that acrid poison
it almost covers up the scars
she leaves-

if i can make dying sound beautiful
then to hell
with us all
if you could romanticise suicide
you'd be rotting
too
lmnsinner Feb 2017
fallow lay in a field, neath soil well over-tilled,
the bones of explanations, excuses, and desperation,
a singular self-destructive but upward thrusted commandment,
compose a poem of revelation,
a poem of destiny and unknown destination

of thee, I write, ashen standing,
with the poker face of a lying son,
before the father confessor mirror,
stand with palms facing outward,
with perfect calm and utter fright

for every nominated error listed below,
when confronted,
hopeless the innocence,
easier now to admit,
with perfect clarity, your innermost
confabulatory familiar friends,
rise to the fire,
first and foremost

belabor not with supposed ratiocinations,
put aside, your ration of
conjured up-for-all, and-all-for-naught excuses,
the prosecutors charges, so thoroughly distinguished,
it disables, speech, vision, all reason extinguished

as the lips and fingers silent move,
the hopeless knowledge of a pardon of 99.9%,
untenable, ransacks,
for what passerby criminal thought
has not resided in your head,
the hearth of who you are?

you,
write of nature, love, celestial notions,
the Etcetera's of life, but to me,
leave the exposure of our uncompressed,
here revealed sinning,
for among those who
unashamedly acknowledge
the intertwining nature of
human failings, and for the balance,
uncap our divine imagery

you write at of those other
nuanced pleasures,
nature, love, celestial notions,
while the sinners wrestle with
the angelic demons of
confrontation and revelation

for your own sake and saving,
do not wrestle with me
for sinners love, welcome
company
For the sin which we have committed before You under duress or willingly.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by hard-heartedness.

For the sin which we have committed before You inadvertently.

And for the sin which we have committed before You with an utterance of the lips.

For the sin which we have committed before You with immorality.

And for the sin which we have committed before You openly or secretly.

For the sin which we have committed before You with knowledge and with deceit.

And for the sin which we have committed before You through speech.

For the sin which we have committed before You by deceiving a fellowman.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by improper thoughts.

For the sin which we have committed before You by a gathering of lewdness.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by verbal [insincere] confession.

For the sin which we have committed before You by disrespect for parents and teachers.

And for the sin which we have committed before You intentionally or unintentionally.

For the sin which we have committed before You by using coercion.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by  desecrating the Divine Name.

For the sin which we have committed before You by impurity of  speech.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by foolish  talk.

For the sin which we have committed before You with the evil  inclination.

And for the sin which we have committed before You knowingly or unknowingly.

For all these, God of pardon, pardon us, forgive us, atone for us.

For the sin which we have committed before You by false denial and lying.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by a bribe-taking or a bribe-giving hand.

For the sin which we have committed before You by scoffing.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by evil talk  [about another].

For the sin which we have committed before You in business  dealings.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by eating  and drinking.

For the sin which we have committed before You by [taking or  giving] interest and by usury.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by a haughty demeanor.

For the sin which we have committed before You by the prattle of our lips.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by a glance of the eye.

For the sin which we have committed before You with proud looks.

And for the sin which we have committed before You with impudence.

For all these, God of pardon, pardon us, forgive us, atone for us.

For the sin which we have committed before You by casting off the yoke [of Heaven].

And for the sin which we have committed before You in passing judgment.

For the sin which we have committed before You by scheming against a fellowman.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by a begrudging eye.

For the sin which we have committed before You by frivolity.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by obduracy.

For the sin which we have committed before You by running to do evil.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by tale-bearing.

For the sin which we have committed before You by swearing in vain.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by causeless hatred.

For the sin which we have committed before You by embezzlement.

And for the sin which we have committed before You by a confused heart.

For all these, God of pardon, pardon us, forgive us, atone for us.

And for the sins for which we are obligated to bring a burnt-offering.

And for the sins for which we are obligated to bring a sin-offering.

And for the sins for which we are obligated to bring a varying offering [according to one's means].

And for the sins for which we are obligated to bring a guilt-offering for a certain or doubtful trespass.

And for the sins for which we incur the penalty of lashing for rebelliousness.

And for the sins for which we incur the penalty of forty lashes.

And for the sins for which we incur the penalty of death by the hand of Heaven.

And for the sins for which we incur the penalty of excision and childlessness.

And for the sins for which we incur the penalty of the four forms of capital punishment executed by the Court: stoning, burning, decapitation and strangulation.

For [transgressing] positive and prohibitory deeds, whether [the prohibitions] can be rectified by a specifically prescribed act or not, those of which we are aware and those of which we are not aware; those of which we are aware, we have already declared them before You and confessed them to You, and those of which we are not aware --- before You they are revealed and known
R Saba Jan 2014
it was all i could do
not to uncap my pen
and mark you, let the ink
seep into your skin
let the words, the anxiety bleed through me
and into you
so that you might understand

how do you feel?
you ask
and i want to write it into you
scratch the answer deep
or at least
write it down
and it's all i can do
not to unleash these words
every minute of every day
they're kept at bay
until i can string them together
alone

so that the next time you ask
how do you feel?
i will have nothing to say
except
fine
poetry is a lifesaver
R Saba Nov 2013
The idea crossed my mind
as my fingertips touched yours
and I pulled,
ever-so-slightly,
trying to create a new gravity field;
and I think it might have worked
because the air shifted
and outside our oxygen cloud
everything went grey
and we floated.
So maybe I have killed science,
or maybe I have created it.
Either way,
the idea crossed my mind
as this image crossed my heart
(this new science,
gravity sideways and
smiling always)
the idea that perhaps
I should reach down into the endless confines
of my bag
and pull out a pen,
clear plastic betraying the dark ink brewing inside,
uncap it,
and put it to your skin.
I thought of marking it up
with my name,
once,
twice,
three times,
scrawled across the joints of your thumb,
hidden between your two longest fingers,
neatly tucked away when you make a fist
as the letters disappear
into the privacy of your hand.
But it's too soon to sign my name,
too late to ask
or blame the changing times;
so instead,
I leave my weapon where it is,
concealed
within the confines of my pen-and-paper heart,
and I keep my name to myself.
The idea crossed my mind
as the world shifted back
to normal,
colour draining from our little scene
and bleeding back into the solid bones of real life,
and we began to move again,
freed from a slow-motion scene
in which my name fell apart
in the spaces between us
and mended itself
as we moved closer
and closer
together.
truth, this actually crossed my mind. but not until much later, does that make it a lie?
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2013
The Heart Has No Bottom

Nor a top,
It is not an
Enclosure, a pen, a cell, a jail.

It is not bottomless.
It is neither round, oblong, it is not even
Heart-shaped.

The heart is shapeless,
A constant cloud bending to loves windy direction,
Reshaping as needed.

The heart is just a notion,
But its power,
Sense-stationary, sensational.

You move about the streets of life,
The heart, prowling for more,
It can only add, never subtract.

The heart, just a metaphor,
For the essential oils of life,
Which need absorption constant.

My heart but a notion, ill defined
It is love without boundaries,
Thank me not from the bottom, or the top,
Just
Come visit me, inside, stay as long as you can,
Within whatever you wish to call it, or
Wish to shape it...

I, uncap it, call it,
**Amor-phous.
her Mar 2016
I uncap my pen in sheer expectation of the thoughts that I have of you to free themselves from the confines of my mind.

I want to write you.
I want to write to you.
I want to write about you.

I think I'm ready.

God's best construction to date was the pathway that led me to you. I am so thankful for the rugged pavement turned yellow brick road that led me to the comfort of your heart made of gold.

I want to learn you.
I want to memorize you.
I want to feel you.

I think I'm ready.

At your peak, you are grace. Full of forgiveness and mercy. At your plateau you are love, consistent and steady.

I want to hold you.
I want to know you.
I want to love you.

I am ready.
Andrea Cullen Oct 2012
In boots without holes,
And a soul whole,
I’m ready to roll
Into an infinity of possibilities and eccentricities of simplicity.

I feel fit you see,
To dive head-on into a new song while the melody remains unwritten.

I’ll uncap, uncurl and uncoil into this scoreless spring of my existence,
Keeping an ear to the ground for hints from a distance,
Rejoice in my own valiance of overcoming that dark beast.

I am the animal, unleashed!

And I shall place my cautious paw in spaces where only good has strode before.
Short of saying more:

I feel set free, at ease and eager to please.
From my head to my knees I feel able to achieve dreams I am yet to conceive.

And all this from release!
Relinquish and re-grow!
maxx lopez Aug 2013
i'll never let you see
what you've done to me
i'll never let you know
where i'm planning to go
except after i'm gone
you'll all be too late.
to say if i could just have wait.
wait for what?
for me to slice another cut?
then you run, tp say what i have done
for you to feel like you have won.
won the battle between me and my life
with you not even involved
but there i go again
slaying against my wrist is the knife
and sitting there
as i tear
tear off the plastic
uncap the lid
discover whats been hid
a capsule of blue
multiple and brand new
taste the bottle on my lips
not even the razor's nips
could substitute what i will soon endure
a pain free path for sure
but the only way to get there?
step in the puddle of blood
there's no lack of it, it's a flood
a flood of my own
nothing i have ever shown
as the ultimate sacrifice, i just want to say,
maybe there would have been one day
when someone would have finally said
"the things inside your head
are driving insane
and its leading you to a world of pain.
take my hand, and follow my lead
someplace to where you will not need
the use or crave for blades & pills
because my love & caring will end your desire to ****."
but that is all a tale
it is all in my head
that someone will have said
"i will save you."
and now its too late
because i will reach for the razors as my evening date
and later lose my innocence deep into the dark as it is late
my innocence taken by the one and only
multiple swallowed capsules
as i say one last time, "if i wasn't so lonely"
then everyone wouldn't say, 'why?"
and i didnt have to write, "goodbye."
Vallery Oct 2023
Glittery sunlight seeps through the gaps in the leaves, shadows dance on the soft grass around me. I lie on the warm earth, breathing in the fresh air. I run my hands through the flowers sprouting besides me, noticing the pale yellow and pastel pink hues, the butterflies flittering among the flora. As i sit up i see that I'm in some sort of forest clearing, a small grassy area encased in a wall of thick trees...


"It's beautiful isn't it?" he said. Who he is, I haven't a clue...
I stand myself up and confusion washes over me. I don't see anyone else present, I'm alone, so where'd the voice come from?
"From me, I'm behind you."
I turn around to face the man with the disembodied voice, a strikingly handsome man dressed in a silk white button down shirt, shiny white dress pants, and white shoes. his features are utterly appealing and instantesouly comforting. Can he read my thoughts?
And with that he lets out a chuckle, "Yes, I can. Please, come with me"
I hesitate for a moment. I'm not sure I can entirely trust him yet but still I follow him anyways. We walk across the clearing, in to the wall of trees. A short distance through the forest brings us to a beautiful river with crystal clear water and lily pads floating about. "Have a seat dear," the Mystery Man said, his arms outstretched towrds a wooden bench shaded beneath some trees. As we sit he begins to speak.
"I know you're unsure of your new environment, but trust me when I say you're in good hands. My friends call me Luci, I sort of run this place,"
he gestures broadly at our surroundings.
"Now, you're here because you asked for help, is that correct?"
Suddenly all my memories come flooding back...
"I-Yes, thats-I asked for help," I stuttered.
Luci stares into the distance, possibly carefully searching for his next reply.
"Dani, I am willing to help you. Here, take this. I've made this just for you. A special concoction of joy, sobriety, peace, and release."
He hands me a small vial containing a clear liquid. I uncap it and a sweet floral aroma fills the air.
"All you have to do is drink it. You know, Death is a beautiful thing, most people are afraid or angry when Death comes around... You are different, Dani, because you welcome Death with open arms. You called my name and I delivered, you can trust me, you can always trust an angel, even the Angel of Death."
He grabs my arm and forces me to drink the liquid.
The sweet smelling potion leaves a horridly bitter taste behind, causing me to gag and retch.
Death sits quietly at my side, watching me fall to the ground and writhe in pain, all with an ugly grin on his face.
The pain is unbearable; I feel as though my skin has been covered in acid, my head feels like it may combust at any second...
Death begins to laugh.
Hes getting off on this, I know it. *******.
"Now, now, Dani, don't blame me. You're the one who wanted this, you're the one who tied the noose, not me. I saved you, now you owe me."
With those last words I give in, I had asked for this, I desperately wanted this, I needed this.
With the acceptance comes the release, the final breath, the final end.

I have been saved by an angel named Death.

Im finally free.
Gigi Tiji Jan 2015
Some may think it strange, but

If you don't let them change,
If you don't give them space, and
If you don't give them room to grow...
then you are stunting them.

You have hurt the very soul
you wished to heal
with your love.

You are putting a flower in a metal cage.
You are keeping a butterfly in a glass jar.

"But they fell in love,
and their love was so great,
that nothing could tear them apart

and they lived happily
ever after,

right?

I could never let them go..."

You can fall in love with a memory.

You can fall in love with a pretty picture.
and you can hold that cold polaroid to your chest
and you can say "I like this best."

but you can't lay your head on its chest,
and you can't feel its heart beating

and you can't exchange a loving glance,
something so beautifully fleeting

and you can't feel its breath on your skin,
because it isn't breathing.

They are not a moment to be stolen.

So come back here to now,
The picture is ever-changing.
pay attention —

Open that metal cage.

Let that flower blossom
for the entire world to see.
Uncap that thick glass jar,
and set that butterfly free.

You may not be with the same person forever,
but realize that they aren't yours to claim...
and they'll never be the same,
ever

So let them have that fresh air to breathe,
and give them space to fly

Let them have all the room to grow,
and you won't have to say good-bye.
Khoisan Jul 2019
Write the words,
uncap
the
locks,
where
ink
ebbs,
and
feelings
flow
set sail
hang
loose
blaze a trail.
On Sunday's river
Gale L Mccoy Jan 2018
my soul aches
a familiar ache
one that comes with
being filled to the brim
pressure building under the surface
  
with practiced fingers
one fluid motion
i uncap

nothing comes out
not even a whisp
the feeling of pressure
does not dissipate
espaic09 May 2017
here I sit, as I have
countless times, yeah

with liquid bread
and my thoughts
for my self

I peered into my empty bottle
realizing I spent hours
admiring a craft
mostly flawed
but revered by many

as perfection creeps
cloaked she already knows
she is unreachable and lonely

I bet God feels the same way

as I uncap another vessel
I realize that it is twenty four past two
so I sketch a few moments
but a few moments now
permanent on my sketch book

time I won't get back
and I can see it
it's ink, a doodle
on a worthless piece of paper

I stare at my text
this and these are moments
I wont get back

so much for perfection.

I hope God isnt as lonely
because it's sad
even with a all these humans
loneliness finds a way
always disguised
unflawed
Brian Rihlmann Aug 2018
It was good, you know...
in the dream
I could taste the ice cold beer
that fizz and bite
that I miss so much
that pleasant floating sensation
after the first two

I should probably run
to an AA meeting, but...
strangers
cult like eyes
are you new here?
clammy handshakes
held too long
hugs with my nose
inches away from
malodorous armpits

And this morning,
at the coffee shop
stray bottles of beer
on a table
outside the bathroom
leftover from the owner's
weekend bbq

I'm going in to
take a ****....
and my hand
wants to reach for one
no one's looking
take it in there
uncap and guzzle it
lukewarm
big belch afterward

Then I'd be ready for work...
alexa Nov 2018
i sit down in bed and the clock reads 10,
i smile and uncap my ballpoint pen.
and with words that flow like the love through my veins
i try to unleash my words from their chains.

i dreamt of a prince, honest and true
i gave up my dream and then i met you.
like beauty i've seen only in the stars
i quickly got swept up in all that you are.

he says i'm his everything, the air that he breathes
agreed that we both bring the other to their knees.
he says i'm his siren, irresistible yet cruel
the way my words have taken him down like each previous fool.

his words are like honey and i'm drunk off the taste,
every moment near his lips- one i never want to waste.
but with words that flow like the love through our veins
i've succeeded in unleashing my words from their chains.
-a.c.b
taken after lang leav's "sundays with michael"
Brian Rihlmann May 2018
My eyes open to a room
filled with blurry shapes,
creeping shadows.

A distant car horn
sounds three feet away.
I jump, chest pounding.

Vibrations begin
from deep inside,
spread to hands, fingertips.

I lay still a moment, on my back,
hands folded over my chest,
breathing, staring at the ceiling.

My sodden brain itches
with black whispers
of inevitability.

I sigh and roll over, reach,
trembling fingers touch plastic.
Uncap the bottle and gulp.

Throat burns red
as lukewarm *****
fills raw emptiness.

I retch, hand to lips.
Another swallow, easier,
creeps through veins.

Liquid embrace
soothes every nerve
silences the whispers.

I sit up in bed,
look at the clock.
Work in a couple hours.

Drag myself into the shower,
brush teeth, scraping
white fuzz off my tongue.

Stop for a bottle on the way in.
Stare down as the clerk
slides change across the counter.

I think I’ll make it today,
but how many more like this,
and where does it end?
Ayesha Jul 2022
18.
12:50 am

everyday
the words accumulate in me
and at night
I shoo them out
I never know what they are going to be
it is like a smoke
one sniffs all day
but does not smell

how dreary…
how unaware we stay
of all that makes us
what is it that blinds us,
if not the gaze with which we see

sometimes
the words become dreams
sometimes
tossing turning wake
and emptiness sometimes—
or like right now
they become it all
sometimes
I turn on Faizan’s brutal bright lights
and I uncap my pen
and I watch this page
and I pick my nails
and I think think think
it may sound silly
but those are words too.
02/07/2022
Gabriel Bonney Sep 2019
These new boxes are stressing me
Maybe I need to unlock my first one first
Then see where God is leading me
So many lines backed up in my mind
Should I cut ties and let them die?
Is it all just in my mind? I hope to not find
Use this dump for the bump, this lump I cup?
Rappin to uncap, tap if you’re at it
I feel like I control Tower of Silence. And after I got done with it, I was like “What now?” But within the two months since I asked that question, I’ve written so much, and I don’t know what to do
If It Make
If it happens to be –
Let it be to uncap
What is given for will
To make free and to grab,

Setting contrasts for trust
Both in Whom and in What –
That’s the meaning of “Must”,
Culmination of ode!..

If it’s happiness – being
From then elevate:
Striving, capturing, leaning,
Midst making and made,

Every word to explore
For the potency-flesh –
Making life living lore
Inside dream of the dash!..

If it’s heavenly peering
And parentally hub –
All the memory bearing,
Store right in the hive

And while having that essence,
Experienced like bee,
All that, in your presence
Make happen to be!..
A song can hold me together
when I’ve been torn apart,
when I’m at the verge
where jagged edges jut out
popping bloated bright
many a things of life.

Lost notes coming together
and stitching my seams
with threads of sound.

Music doesn’t ask for permission
—it breaks in, a trespasser
who knows all the rooms of my head,
who rewires the walls with chords
until they buzz and climb on air’s back.
On the top of their ethereal lungs,
they belt out polished groove
where reflection of my days are caught.

It’s there when I need it
—when silence has teeth,
When the world gnashes,
pressing its weight on my chest.
in the blackness of spirit,
when the lesser light pale
into insignificance,
when all of me is ground to atoms.

Like spring faeries, they uncap the lid, lift it, unleash the lilt cloistered in secret years, they ride gilt-edged fireflies, flitting and fluttering in the mist of colors. And like spring, life comes back to the earth.

I have heard harmonies
build bridges across days
that feel like sinking ships.
I’ve watched melodies
cut through the static
of my thoughts,
Clean and sharp as a blade
sliding through skin.
The bass is a heartbeat,
steady and human,
the strings—veins
unraveling their stories.
Syncopated at times,
as if an arrhythmia.

A song can hold me together,
there was one leaping out of nowhere,
lost in the night,
found its way in my ears,
then in my heart,
in my half-awaken state,
while I clung into sleep under an eye of dreamless rest,
it was light on its feet,
free of gravity.

When I feel lost,
I press play,
and I teleport here,
a night crawler  
a room filled with
nothing but sound
and no judgment,
my acoustic soul gets to drink,
where my fears untangle themselves
like knots in a rope.

Music doesn’t lie.
It doesn’t care,
It’s not a ***** coyote
the petulant thief
mistaking mediocrity for simplicity,
Music forgives,
about what I’ve done
or who I’ve been.

It cradles me as I am:
raw and flammable,
A man with a match
clenched between his teeth.
In the slant of the highway,
I roll with tunes sanding
until the roads are even
and the bends straight
for this drifter with a match
clenched between his teeth,
the song pulls it from my mouth,
lights it,
and says,
burn, if you must—but listen.

It tells me I am brave
when I don’t believe it.
It tells me I am whole,
even when the pieces don’t fit.
But I’ve always been a puzzle,
a riddle to myself,
a mystery in a mystery
and a Jack-in-the-box.

When asked why I trust music
like a heathen
collapsing down drear gloom,
funereal mood,
sulked out.
I’ll pause,
let a silence fall
where words should be,
And instead let a rhythm
beat through the air.
A small offering.
Because some things
are answered best
by the sound
of their own making.

There is a gaping chasm in all of us.
One way or another,
we loaded our fractured hearts
with longing,
hoping for an escape,
we shot an embittered gaze
at words that danced on the pages,
swirled in the air on winged notes.
In the dark, I didn’t find myself alone,
I swept the pieces,
ugly, but a whole,
the way a song can hold me together.

— The End —