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Dead Rose One Apr 2018


unlike a first kiss, a first love,
the premiere awkward first coupling,
which when one recalls it
appears with ever increasing fuzziness (intentionally?)
or not at all, so much so that making it up based on
fleeting hazed glimpses of unmemorized dreams
just to have an “official entry in the cloudy memory,”
is a semi-necessity for regaling...nobody

but you never forget your virginal
projectile vomiting

there is even an emoji for it,
a hurling curling celebration

like a computer reset,
a confessional admission
that includes your own original
original sin,
a purging so complete,
it is a rebirthing of sorts,
a human do over

(c’mon c’mon get on with this, this
no kiss, a most undeserving bizzaring poem title choice)

each and every time I draw forth
the words on the in sides of me
they are ejected with force comparable,
my body rejecting l'étranger,
who’s now escaping

no first kiss, miss, no laughing at one’s first tumbling fumbling,
there is no smiling recollections sweet,
a cover up for your exciting intimation initiations faint revisions

but your first writing!

given up and out in a ejection burst,
a needle in the arm, gunshot
fluids *******, spit out,
without malice aforethought,
and this your last writing

this one, yes, this one.
comes quick, rough and inelegant,
expulsion combustion leaving you
panting on the cold floor you emptied
sorta of whole, a clean sheet, so to speak,
swearing you’ll never do this again,
must be an easier way,
to just slow secrete it holy,
or give up the drug of writing
raven forevermore nevermore


the vision of a long ago rabbi,
being burned to death slowly
by the Romans, wrapped in
dampened torah scripture scrolls
to lengthen the burnished burning,
a vision burned into a
very youthful boy’s consciousness,
the holy black ink hand drawn letters flowing
from martyr’s mouth, flying heavenward
this fresh within,
a childhood image primal mind,
is ways present
as each letter typed, formulating mathematically,
based on an artificial intelligence theorem,
that updates itself with every missive,
until the new poem is
projectile released in
a single ***** bursting,
purging of the urging

and guess what,

it just happened again


~for Sky, whose poems endearing found me, in her brazen ways,
which is what poets do~
When Rabbi Hananiah ben Tradyon was caught teaching Torah in public, the Romans decided to make an example of him. Accordingly, Rabbi Hananiah was wrapped in a Torah scroll, which was then set afire. As if this torture were not sufficient, strips of water-soaked wool were placed on his body to prolong his agony. While his distraught students looked on helplessly, Rabbi Hananiah inspired them with his famous utterance, "The parchment is burning but the letters are flying off," meaning that enemies can crush the Jewish body but not the spirit
Cindra Carr Nov 2011
The fatigue flows through me
As if it has invaded the marrow of my bones
Leaking out into the flesh
Rendering me paralyzed in an unfocused state
I sleep to live and wish only to end the dulled mind set
It’s crushing to find that shard of thought
Urging me to get up
Do not sleep, it whispers
There is too much to do, the insidious trails of ideas speak
The words taken down seek to undo the restlessness
The blurred vision of the time slipping past in red numbers
Sleep, my body cries
Wait a minute more, my mind calls back
Sleep deprived with burning eyes
A single tear breaks the tie
I cannot go on
Sleep calls me back
Pulling me down to the place I cannot ignore anymore
Sleep, my body whispers
Sleep, my mind sighs

Rochelle R Feb 2018
The anguish in this alienating aloneness is alarmingly enlightening
I am aware as the colors of my aura
fade from vibrant to mute
A spiraling sense of self grasps at false promises of hope or help
Each face that shows itself as an ally is simply mirage or ghost
Or wisps of nothingness I probably hallucinated to cope
I am an anchor in a rushing tide
Life floods by with no more than a glance over the shoulder
Some collide from behind urging me to move on, frustrated when I don’t align with their idea of time
I need to be unapologetically ‘not ok’
Imagine my electric shock when I find that’s not an option
The anguish in this alienating aloneness is alarmingly enlightening
Jesse stillwater May 2018
An earth sized boulder
dislodged with the thunder
Unleashing catacombs  
of terrestrial darkness
lay compressed beneath it
for a thousand years

The hidden ancients
heard its soul hold forth;  
their rumbling silence
    ―  laid bare ―
They heard its voice
rises up with the ears
of a new-born fawn

Beguiling roots,
solid as a rock,
hold together
like dark matter
A soul weight
beyond measure
shouldering the torn
of a divided heart

Heaviness ...
O' the heaviness ―
just a platitude for
what you feel
when it all comes
tumbling down
to the ground

times immemorial:
an urging silence
pushing down
to the grave,
trying to unlearn
the things
never known
about the hearts
we leave behind

Jesse Stillwater
01  May  2018

Out of the silence of earthen soul, musing much more than gravity
jonni inferno Feb 2017
mine guilt be carved
'pon this furrowed brow
plainly writ
for all to see

i pray thee now
speak softly
fair an' sweet
an' brook no lie
to pass thine ruby lips
those serpent fangs
venom filled
'twould pierce an'
wi' their poison still
this wounded heart
that lay bleeding
lost an' dreaming
far beneath...

where mid-night forest
darkly flows
this raging torrent
swiftly feeds
black rivers
writhing coldly
thru my soul

as faceless voices
darkly speak
urging chaos
mindless screams
nightshades tearing
rending eat
the broken pieces
of this wounded heart
that lay bleeding
lost an' dreaming
far beneath...

where the sun
is but a myth
deep within this
dark abyss
an' the moon
from memory

speak softly
fair an' sweet
release me from
this dark abyss
that lay bleeding
lost an' dreaming
at thy feet
Pic Poem
. to pic/poem
It was a day of brilliant sunshine,
one that rarely lasts;
And with a sky of deepest blue,
a wonderment was cast.

Just beside the woodshed,
a garden glowed of Spring;
An awesome sight of color,
urging the birds to sing.

Open air and fields of gold,
that graced our tiny town;
Daisies, lilies, and tulips reigned,
as queens of great renown.

Our eyes would delight in early light,
of sheer delicacy and sustenance;
Fanciful thoughts swirled in our heads,
of pixie dust and angels' dance.

And in a childlike vision formed,
a bright clearing upon the land;
Of cherished moments still calling us,
like the sea always meets the sand.
Lydia Cooper Nov 2018
You are the wanted one, men strive for you
The serpent of desire,
Urging men to play with fire
They run and chase
But you play games
Like a cat with a string
Until your feet get tired
carminayasmin Apr 2018
As if I’m going to wash my sins,
by finding a substance so viscous - to annihilate the acid
that seeps through me.

Perhaps it’s you refilling my first glass,
which is dried up by 11,
and replenished by 5 past.

Must I keep forcing it down my refusing gut,
so I can bare the stutter drooling,
crumbling, out your teeth.

Till I’ve sipped needlessly on your lies
and fell drunken on your delusional fables.

Now I’m slurring in my nights,
awoke, still high on your acid.
Eyes are bulging, bloodshot
from you firing bullets of your decaying  burden.


As I walk I stumble,
diverging around solum streets.
Crows peck at my skin, to prompt me at sunrise.

Now and again I revisit
the morsels I had collected from the bottom of your chalice.
Savouring as I gulp down my regret.
Desperately urging to be hungover your reveries
one last time.
11 April, 00:31
I’m preparing myself for it all one day
Ormond Jul 13
Smitten in rushes
Woods beyond danced— urging us
Wild winds in her hair
Diane May 2015
pain demands to be felt..
that is why you let break ups feel like shards of glass piercing through your skin,
"i was using you" feel like acid being pumped through your heart ventricles spewing liquid anguish through your veins
you let the memories consume your very existance so all that is left is the skin he once touched, the lips he once kissed and the emotions he still controls..
yes, pain does demand to be felt

but you see, i am pain.
i embody every syllable of that painful word..pain
i am every lie woven intricately into the seams of the pillow used to cushion the blows i inflict.
i leave you trapped in the very depths of  your mind, made easy by your naive attempt of grasping onto the words used to lure you in, i love you

i am the whispers of motivation urging you to sniff sniff sniff your way deeper into my domain where you are nothing but a chess piece in a battle not easily won.
i am the deep seated hunger that devours any sign of "happy"..the breaking, smashing, burning of hope
i am a master of deceit, carefully manipulating your thoughts through the simple tug of a string, i am your master.

but I was not born like this,
I became if you really think about it,
I am love, because love was the reason I became pain.
this may be confusing, but once again think about it..

love demands to be felt...
that is why you sit smiling awkwardly at your phone,
why you get butterflies..I mean the whole **** zoo in your stomach when he looks your way,
you let your feelings consume your very existence until all that is left of you is the hand he holds so tight, the hair he moves away from your face and the heart you laid right out for him...
yes, love demands to be felt..

but you see, I once was love..
I embodied every syllable of that beautiful word love
I was the roof over-head when the storms of life came thundering by,
I was anything you needed me to be because at the end of the day I didn't want to be anything if I didn't have you.
So I let myself go, I became my own foe
just so you could have that shoulder, I mean that extra soul to lean on

you kept taking and never giving,
this one sided love became toxic
I took one look at myself and realised that I didn't know who was staring back at me..
much like how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly,
but the reverse, I began to shrink.
the butterflies turned to moths, the smiles to tears and soon enough,
love became pain,
and they both demand to be felt.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
Hot /cold,
light/thin light

fact fact fact
nothing is real

I think I am real,
these words and the thoughts they embody, agree with me.

If you exist, dear reader, my materiality no longer matters.

Distant spooky, geistlich, action at this distance.
Now, you choose do/don't muse/amuse

the infection is finished.
the walls did fall, the one that's left is not a wall,
it's a dam holding back a pushed pile of dirt
being pushed to flat, eventually crashing as waves do,
in harmony with electro-magneto power systems,
urging us past dread guilt lust rage powerlessness

urging us past innocent repulsions into ignoring the mob
madness pushing us past the peace

truths change? who imagined that
the penmen we may not mention were magi, in practice.
liars, do liars have a

value button? Wachowskis, what do we think?

Ruth or ruthless? Symbolic Truth of false,
a message, a lesson

you paid attention to come this far to learn

next and more are not at war and never were.
Letting my characters swirl in the argument twixt Hicks and maybe the Zeitgest guy, while listening to Stephen R. C. Hicks read Explaining Postmodernism on youtube
lX0st Dec 2018
Can’t you hear me?
My tongue hurls your name
Into the wind
Moving east
Urging storm’s brewing
Rising with the chill
Of eery lake
Carrying my echoes
Through clouds of haze
Damp desperation
Voice, strained, releases
Surges of rain
And sleet. Pooling,
Pleading at your feet
Drown in my essence
Watch as it breathes
Watch as it weaves
Through the valleys and summits
Of your goosebumps
In intricate lattice
Ice lace tourniquet
Asphyxiating sadness
From sore hands. Solitude
From weary eyes. Silence
From blackened lungs
Darker than the thundering sky
Reverberating anthems
Of my unfulfilled soul
And my direful need
To be made whole
By you
Word Dec 2017
Constantly fighting with my innerself, begging my mind to forget, this my heart is weak for what it yeans,  lord knows no good can come off this.

That swèet smell of you;
The aroma always daring me to get closer;
And you, such a devil you are, you deny me not.
A stare into your eyes urging me on, and you keep drawing closer to me, I feel your body heat entering inside of me. I feel you possessing me, it’s crazy I know…

That vanilla taste in you, memories reminding me to want to bit your lower lip, just to see your eyes bubble out in a fright of me, routine way i move my finger on your arm, magic trick, always seems to work.

You always saw my next move, it’s like you knew my every intention, and I recall your every reaction

It was all too easy, my heart paced as i made my move, but you, so calm and collected, expecting my every approach, meeting my kiss half way each time, so perfect we could rhyme.

I was thinking am playing, but maybe there, I was the one being played

So I just want to forget, but...

My face fails to ignore the bliss that your memory brings, I smile and it’s all because of you.
Frequent laughter most times in silence, from memories of then, now.

I cannot get used to this, a mad man in the eyes of many, I am definitely insane, but how?

I won’t lie, I never saw this…never even hoped for it, my wishes never got this far
And I could never have a dream this wild, not in any day dream or romantic thought in all those lonely nights, all loving with no fights?

We walk too close to the edge you and me, I love the fear of falling, it’s so arousing
Maybe the only time I feel alive, being alive is excruciating, but for sanity I will walk away
I go for only a short while, you know very well that I am addicted, and i will be coming back for more

Moving towards an end is so stimulating, it’s like walking to your death, seeing your body transforming into a godly being, all in your conscious, priceless!
What most fear we embrace,
What most hear from whispers as taboo on dark corners, we enjoy in our lustful ways

This cannot be love, it’s too real that it is surreal.
I am now suffering from these pleasures that you bestow on yours truly,
Man was never made to love this strong,
I tremble from the touch of your finger,
I reach out to your departing shadow, I can feel the warmth of your perk in my memory, and i hear your voice wake me from my dreams.

Impossible but true, we have been served a dish for two…
Her corpse is just the tides ****** forward.  
Her cheeks slowed with the sediment of
dead crustaceans gleaming.
My grandmothers heart the undertow.  
Pumping molecules until they are me
Through a telescope, I imagine
Her over the shoulder of the moon
Urging a tug of the tides,
Seas trembling with Consume
Deepali Agarwal Sep 2018
A knock at the death's door.
The hags squinted eyes to look at their new companion.
They gasped,
He was so puny, not compatible.

The walls mocked at him,
His steps echoing through the deadly hushed alley.
Subdued him by constant murmurs.

This was completely different,
People with burns, people with cuts,
Many had henious marks, flesh hanging loose from body.
He wanted to *****, but his body was off the limits.

The guards of death poked him,
Urging him to move.
The hall was stuffed, horrifying voices shook it.
'Ah! One more kid. I am tired of such cases.' The voice came from the centre.

'Explain, kid?' The voice was monotonous.
'I was to go heaven. I don't belong here.' He shrieked.
'You are not to decide where to go. There's no free will here.'

He was pious, always inclined towards good,
Then why such a harsh punishment.
'Kid you were mistaken when you wasted what was most precious.' The king said.

He wasn't wrong.
God had been wrong to him, giving him miseries at every path.
Did he do anything to suffer that much. No.

Living was better than dying.
'Millions more thought the same. And you belong to the same lot.
You had fifty more years to enjoy and look, now where does it make you land.'

A thousand years weren't a short period to ponder over his crime.
It pained him every time,
Thinking of many things he could have been a part of.
Some spontaneous decisions can make us regret for eternity.
Her corpse is just the tides ****** forward.  
Her cheeks the sediment of dead crustaceans,
My grandmothers heart, the undertow.  
Pumping molecules until they are me.

Through a telescope, I imagine
Her over the shoulder of the moon
Urging a tug on the tides,
Seas trembling with Consume.

Flesh is tied with a sailors knot
Time loosens into a noose.
My sister's face has twisted and
my brother's skin washed loose and
I hold my hand to the sun and see
through the map of Lazarus;
tributaries running for the sea
Zersrol Sep 2018
You said pass me the blunt
But I wasn’t done
You told me to hurry
But instead I scurry

Urging to breath
And to release
But always needing some heat

Pass me the light
I need to feel right
Only if I could stop
I would feel alright

But all I did
Was get blazed
Instead saved
Only if I didn’t feel at blame
For me being a mistake
I wouldn’t have
Taught you to forget
By getting your state of mind

Now it’s a bub
Now it may go
But my state of mind will stay high
until there is hope
To help me
I thought about people who do drugs and I hope I didn’t offend anyone with my words; I only made this for people can relate and not feel alone. I hope you enjoy❤️! I love comments so if you have anything to say I would love to see and improve from my mistakes
lovelywildflower Nov 2018
that agonizing pain in your chest
teardrops forming puddles on the bathroom floor
biting down on your hand or a towel or anything
to keep from making a sound
your body trembling and shaking
and you're surprised you just haven't given up yet
the scars already on your body pulling you in
and urging you to just rip open your skin
but there's that promise you made
the promise you can't break
no questions asked
so you cry until no more tears come out
but by then you're throwing up
because you cried so hard
and all you want to do is scream
but you can't
so you pick yourself up
and when you look at yourself in the mirror
you're not that surprised at how broken you look
then you practice your fake smile
try to splash your face with cold water
to try to make it look like you weren't just falling apart
and then you open up the bathroom door
hoping that there isn't someone on the other side
Graff1980 Nov 2018
The grass is wet and warm
from last night’s storm,
dangerously slick
but there are certain spots
where my heel still sticks.

Places where it
takes a little effort
to free myself.

There are vines
of people and time
that intertwine
with my intentions,
sometimes for the better
other times
for stuff
I'd rather not mention.

But no matter
when or where I am
there is always
something pulling,
deep and urging
like the tides
that are calling
my sea body
back to salt water.

I try to stay,
talk and play
with those I love
but there is just
that makes me
need to be
even though
it might be
extremely lonely.
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