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Austin Morrison Feb 2015
A smile to make me blind
eyes to control my mind
You have a soul so pure and so kind.

You are the girl I never wanted to live without. But now the words I speak, you do not care about.

I see you holding someone else's arm, falling for his boyish charm. Watching puts my soul through harm.

A voice like an angel
Lips to cure my sadness
A touch to calm my madness

You are the...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**** this poem, the words I am trying to say are unable to be spoken, being away from you has made me broken. I know I was the one who left, but what you did to my heart was theft.

You are a girl I don't want to live without, a girl I truly love I have no doubt. And there is one thing I can't stop thinking about. When you left my house that night and looked me in the eyes, you said I will always love you. This is the only thing I wish to undo.
Umi Apr 2018
Whereabout of the heart, where might it be ?
When fury is a feeling which engages your senses, your mind and your soul in a raging outburst of negativity expressed in adrenaline,
Everything seems to be one sided, a loop which only fuels your anger with thoughts of unpleasant, disturbing annoyances, making it harder
Harder to resist, until alike a super nova, you explode in a viscious rampage with knows no escape, so, where is the heart ? Where is it?
A tantrum might be encouraged to grow in size if it's revenge you seek, desire, want to live for to make it expire, with violent passion,
Mercy or compassion, forgiveness and simpathy may be forgotten, within the depths of your burning soul, lit ablaze solely by hatred,
You may lose your mind, oh beauty of a living existence, becoming alike a lily of murderous intent, spiteful, yet elegant and wonderful,
A shivering star, ready to take its opponent down with itself while destroying what used to be so precious, unique and simply sweet,
Blemishing the unconscious without thinking of patience or the chance to calm this nuclear meltdown, unfolding in tragedy for us,
The pure light of your praying palms might help in this regard,
Because his remembrance is what makes furious hearts become calm.

~ Umi
Hollow Steve Aug 2018
Faded eye
Numb skull
Empty veins
Uncontrollable blow

It rolls inside itself
Then swallows itself whole

Wallowing inner ache

Can't see
Only looking

It falls within
It's numb

I have no place left to see
What could have been
My life held within

I can not see
No longer me

Everything fades
Farewell my dismay
sophia Jun 2017
it wasn’t chaotic.
it was calm and serene,
like the ocean.
the soft pitter patter
of the rain on the roof,
and the cool air it brought.
it was a sip
of freshly brewed coffee,
natural with no additives,
whatsoever.
the gut feeling
of knowing where home was.
and that is how
you came into my life.


the star that shines the brightest
amongst the pitch black sky.
it’s the white cloud that outshines
all the gray and gloomy ones.
the perfect fit of the last piece
to the unfinished puzzle.
it's the warm, fuzzy feeling
of getting into bed
early on a Friday night.
and that is how it was
when I started loving you.


it’s like a deeply cut wound,
one that’s inundating
with crimson colored blood,
having a tinge of maroon.
it induces pain
with every inbreathe
and exhalation.
it manages to have
the appearance of a scar,
yet it still feels so fresh
like a bruise.
and that is how it felt
when you left.


it was filled with haze
and suffocation.
the uncontrollable fast paced beat
of your heart.
Mona Lisa's enigmatic smile,
one that is hardly understood
by majority of the world.
a bite of dark chocolate,
bitter and sweet.
and this is my survival.
stuck in the third season,
but i'll make it to the fourth
Daniel H Shulman Dec 2018
There was a moment, so unexpected,
When I woke, seeking just ordinary,
Resigned to loneliness, unconnected,
Our encounter—felt imaginary.

Seeking isolation, no need for lust,
Appreciation gone, beauty no more,
Passion burned, with eyes I no longer trust,
You—a seduction I’d not known before.

Pulling back from feeling, and nakedness,
All the beauty, futile, unrequited,
Choosing instead dullness, and wretchedness,
Our spark—an extinguished soul ignited.

Recoiling, fear, cursed sexuality,
Libidinous impulses, uncontrolled,
Bare, on altars of sensuality,
You—inviting love I cannot withhold.

Kiss me, hold me, bring my love in deeper,
Forgive me, embrace me, don’t let me be still,
Touch me, and own me, and be my keeper,
Your look—I resisted, but have lost my will.
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Instagram @insightshurt
Buy "Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life" at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
The other day I caught you staring,
I don’t think you realized because,
When my eyes met yours we broke into uncontrollable laughter.

The incredible feeling of being in the presence of pure love,
Intertwined instinctively

Remember to never grow a day older,
But always grow a day wiser.


And know our love is a pre-written plot from the very beginning
A script sent straight from stars



           —letters to my sun ☀️
Cunning Linguist Nov 2013
[Verse 1]
Monster sized swag; not modest bout my splendor
Marvel at the flag and I'm the ultimate avenger
Buck Rodgers, D-Bird yep I'm the number one contender,
So I gotta uphold this rep of bein uncontrollable
so I'll take the lead, I hold the world beneath my feet
I'm a fiend, elite
Haze so cloudy cause I be blowin Swisher Sweets
Drug addiction is my disease
It's my expertise
See here's the masterpiece:
Raps lobotomize
I'm traumatized since 1993

[Verse 2]
Victimized by the lies
of this trifilin enterprise
You can front but you can't hide
There's no fault behind your eyes
So I hope this insult will suffice
It should come as no surprise
A grin will spread across my face
From side to side
My ***** mouth will mesmerize
hypnotized, memorize
the words that escape my lips
I'm a degenerate unabridged uncut
You're a ******* ****
Go hang yourself from a bridge
Here's a rope, I hope you choke

******* ******* smoochie smoochie
Only chains you got is Gucci
Y’all basic brothers rep that set
But fake like that 2chi

[Verse 3]
man I get so high,
Now watch me get higher
Watch me take flight
As my wings soar skyward
You know I'ma fighter
So watch me take my place
As I eat this rap game up
and then spit it in your face
Now pass me a lighter
see me rollin while I bake
I mean I'm not a pastry maker,
but I still bake for the sake
My rhymes are so ill
They're gonna make you sick
I be tweetin on my twitter
While Betty Crocker ***** my ****, uh

[Verse 4]
Reid between the lines son and please proceed with caution
Alien splittin kilos, I be one tweaked ****** martian
I'm five steps ahead and these haters ****** forfeit
You four feet tall and I'm so high I'm in ****** orbit
Make these snitches sleep with fishes
How ****** vicious spittin mischief
****** trippin out these hypocrites
Dishin out these disses which
Bein inconsiderate
in this fast paced game of chase
But if I wanted to catch your drama
I'd just go check my facebook page *****
"Reid between the lines son.." Is a double entendre, my name is Reid so it's saying I'm between lines of snorting *insert illicit substance* and read between the lines. Buck Rodgers and D-Bird are a couple rap aliases from in the day.
yúyīn Jan 2017
Red looks good
Running down my skin that is..
I shouldn't cut
But,
I need release
Sobs wracking my body
Heavy breathing
Chest feels empty
I feel empty.. just a shell
No substance,
But all these unwanted emotions
I need release
Throat hoarse and raw
Guilty fingers shaking
Again..
Hot tears threaten to escape
I need release
Just one tiny cut
Please?
Or maybe a few
I need release
One slit, then two
That familiar sting
That familiar red
Uncontrollable sobs
Tammy M Darby Aug 2013
Off I go
To the ****** ward
For the chasing of elusive words
I round them up and write them down
A poet demanding to be heard


Using only a word at a time
I will never have enough
So here I sit in the silly ward
A word chaser
A nut

The more words I write
The more I want
It has become an insatiable greed
Words I must have them all
Not a wanting
An uncontrollable need

My crime is that I am a word chaser
Many cannot understand
So this is my explanation
As I scrawl with pen in hand

Yes I am a pursuer of words
And all the letters I find
Line them up
Assigning their places
I paint them with metaphor and rhyme

A word chaser yes
Without reservation these faults I confess
Though my hands are no longer tied
The door is forever shut
So in the ****** ward I will remain
A word chaser'
A nut

All right Reserved. Tammy M. Darby.
All Material Stored in Author Base
Eleni Apr 2018
Noughts and crosses
Pains and loses

Heartbreak on repeat
The boring same beat

A game of stalemate
A life wrapped in fate

And it's not over
Three in a line
And it's not over
I guess I'll be fine.

Circles and lies
Fail to dry my eyes

Can I not cry?
You could not even say goodbye.

Not much to win
For, these weak bones are thin

My thoughts are not real
Your mind will not care how I feel.

And it's never over
Three or six in a line
And it's never over
My soul did once shine.

Leave this life
You created in your mind.
For you and I
Have had our time.

Noughts and crosses
Uncontrollable forces

A wild, empty city
Busy faces with no pity.
Megan Jones Sep 2016
I awoke in the night and felt your back against mine
Was this some sort of sign, some distance I couldn't explain?
Or was this a self-perceived storm in the making
constructed from nothing that was real?
The darkness took comfort in those nights we spent
back to back
Ticking, ticking, ticking-
Searching for an outlet, even forging one out of our lack
of subconscious physical attachment, trying to
create a wedge

The wedge served as an object that would separate
my vulnerability from reality
Creaking across my temples and finding solitude in
the destruction of everything I held dear,
you.

As time went on, naturally that wedge became an abyss
and every night I fell hundreds of feet over and-
over again- until my heart shrank into a thread.
The feeling of uncontrollable anxious behaviors
began to manifest in my chest
There it remained-
digging around to find its home, once more
In my adolescent insecure tendencies
Nat Lipstadt Jul 2016
<>

for the early morning teach

<>

she's young, beautiful and thinks her life is cursed,
in the past, subject of some of my poems, her health to nurse,
yet, as is normative, you fall into & out of a well of touch,
until you accidentally once again path cross,
she provides a precision mathematical status update

"i'm fairly certain things are like at least 38% worse."

it is 1:38AM for you,
the not unnoticed ironic minute and hour
when the night ether has prematurely worn off,
rising time close but not nearly close enough,
a dark dose of a sleeping nurse's aide seems inappropriate,
and TV reruns seem like an insult to your brain

instead you turn on some belle string musique,
a Grande Messe des Morts,
a chorus,
singing a high mass for the dead,
while opening all your various email luggage and baggage,
smiling as you read a poetess's message of
laughter behind tears

"i'm fairly certain things are like at least 38% worse."

and Mississippi ******,
your uncontrollable mixed drink of her emotional
Grenada grenade cocktail,
flavored with musique, paintings, and words and a nearby beloved's
gentling sleep sounds,
has you writing your own protest poem,
your very own,
oy vey, grande messe,
about lives that were supposed to be
pictures of perfect artistry
and for but a word or two,
instead, a painting of a life that got hung upside down,
and indeed,
leaving a grand mess and no one to help clean up


alternatively weeping, laughing as you are thinking,
smiling recall
Laurel and Hardy's summary definition
of living a life's of ill begotten, misventured adventures:

"Well, here's another nice mess you've gotten me into !"

but 38% worse?

not an even-steven rounded up 40%,

should I write you only 38% of a poem, teach?
or more accurately, more mathematically,
138% of what was writ before?

and you recall your older, prior words
about the love hate affair between
you poet,
and the beauty of written brevity
(her style)

and you give her this then,
this rambling, scrambled, attention paid notification,
word attentiveness, a summary of your readings
of her cheddar sharp and honey mustard sweet retorts of
pained poetry,

it is insufficiently but perfectly sufficient,
a summarizing phrase that opens
and yet
briefly encapsulates all that
you are feeling for her

"thinking of you"

or the 38% larger version thereof -


*"Well, here's another 38% more
nice poetic mess
you've gotten me into!"
2:44 AM,
of course
Umi Mar 2018
I am darkness I am light, I am chaos I am might, lies and truth unite,
Fear and bravery, envy with hatred and love finally combined,
I am the difference between illusions and dreams, nothing as it seems,
Nightmares and mirrages, a realm of infinity and finite by its means,
I am fusion and fission, with one simple yet very complex misssion,
Energy and indolence, a wall, another fence, questions upon answers
If small lies give rise to grand falsities, what is the truth gonna bring ?
A place where you should be able to feel reality and fantasy's sting,
Apathy and concern unite, come closer I don't really bite, trust me,
My teeth look sharp, yet they are blunt, you can rant or stay calm,
I am a living death wandering yet standing still, does it make you ill?
Generosity and greed are both present while they are missing, still!
Control the lies of your uncontrollable tounge, listen to the silence,
Could we possibly agree that this unanimity relies in total dissension?
I am the discouragement for your precious, little yet pure intentions,
Aimlessness for hope of a future unexplored yet near enough to grasp
I am the rue in pride, a lamp without light, elusive but not transient,
A harmonic ramgage, riots over the horizon in undefined dark light,
I am malevolent and benevolent, bent yet straight, right behind you,
What am I ?

~ Umi
If you can solve this riddle I give you a cookie °^°
This took very long to make and actually combines my old rhyming writing style and the one I engaged myself in a while ago, I do hope it is somewhat enjoyable ^-^
joan Sep 2018
and
probably
why i do not want anyone to be
friends with me is that i know
they can't handle me, i am always
too much. i am a handful of
uncontrollable messㅡshattered
bones and pierced soul. because
at first, they would think i got
my life together, that i am the most
stable person ever. then, when
my veil rolls down, you'll see the
horror in their eyes. they'd back
up, slowly walking away from my
ruins for they are afraid to touch
my broken glass edges. no
one's too brave to stay with me
with my broken parts shown.
people always leave. so as soon
i have someone starting to be
around me, i prepare myself for
the worst, for their leaving, for my
loneliness (yet again). and
maybe this is why i do not want
anyone to be friends with me:
they'll make me grow attached
to them, almost trusting them with
my shattered pieces when in
reality, they're afraid of it. they
have always been afraid of me.
this is me trying to justify why i ghosted youㅡi was afraid, too.
The day comes in with a
Flash of light and I begin to creep
Further into my bed thinking
Of days when normal was normal.
I reach my hand towards my ceiling in the
Dark room with a single blue light that haunts me through it’s enchanting glow,
It’s mesmerizing glow astounds my
Soul. as I slowly begin to fall asleep I ask for answers to my “problems.” I pull my hand down and think of the blue paint that is now white and shining. My brother comes in, after my brother opens the curtains in my room to awaken me from my decrepit sleep of shame and depression. I can only believe he is here to show me comfort or some basic form of loving compassion. He leaves without looking at me as if to say “I don’t care.” I look further at him wondering if these humans will forgive my weaknesses, my uncontrollable wanting and fear. I’m alone, I realize that now.  I am supposed to act like an 18 year old for the rest of my life? How am I supposed to eat? What god planned this? I’m limited and forced to feel weak. I’m slowly falling apart. I sit up after these questions run through my mind and think of when my “normal” will feel “normal.” what complete trash of a feeling... what am I?
My mind as human as most of the people around me. My morals are changing and my hunger is raging. The pain won’t go away. What should I do, how will I eat?
buying food is super hard...
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
Should we invite the neighbors over for dinner?
Their politics so different from ours.
All the more reason. Combat anomie!
He's worried the town's losing population
but opposes immigration. I like immigrants
but hate passing people on my morning walk.

The whole mountainous western region of the state
is losing population at a rate of 1% per annum.
The young move out, the old stay put but
young artists priced out of big cities move in
looking for affordable studio space. How low
can the population go as long as rents stay low?

We did agree about the fire department expansion
being premature (him) or unnecessary (me).
He argued we should renovate the high school first
the roof is caving in and walls crumbling.
But you can teach under a spreading chestnut tree
or baobab and science needs the world for a laboratory.

I teach at the old 2nd St. jail in Pittsfield
a town that doesn't know if it's coming up or going down.
A few shootings last month, no deaths.
They're holding their breath but also trying to attract life
science businesses to the industrial park. The local bank's
expanding, buying smaller banks in neighboring civilizations.

Eventually our fire department got the vote they wanted,
just called another meeting and packed the auditorium.
The final winning argument was we can do the school,
the fire house and the police station all at once.
Don't accept defeat, limitations. Defeat anomie!
Anomie means lawlessness and purposeless in Greek

so that's not exactly what we're trying to defeat.
It's the mismatch between our aspirations and resources,
no, the dissonance between our tribe and nation,
no, the individual as ****** animal and intellectual,
no, the farmer and the banker, the loved one and the litter,
no, whatever happens to you after you die and belief in reincarnation.

For me, it always boils down to mortality
every conversation, which is why no one comes to dinner.
Whether the fire department buys an exorbitant parcel
at the expense of a future school renovation
in a town slightly losing population but still viable
with a college, bank, artists and a few working farms

is everything and nothing, as Borges says.
Deutsch says death ought to be curable.
The new high school or fire station, conditions like anomie
v. democracy, new life forms, self-conscious species
from the laboratory or the biome. How de body?
Today ok. Tomorrow I don't know. Potential

energy, lover, killer, anomie. Karl Popper
had such faith in the rational whereas Niebuhr
acknowledged man's ego is uncontrollable except
by force. Conflict is inevitable. But at dinner
we agree it doesn't always have to be violent or terminal.
We can do the fire department, police station, the school and anomie.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
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