Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
guy scutellaro Jul 2018
Bob O Malley's Wedding Reception - part one.


The front door of the Wagon Wheel bar explodes open to Ziggy Pop's "You Got a **** for Life." Jack steps over the curb and vanishes into the dark doorway.

"HEY JACK, JACK DELLETO, the lanky bartender shouts over the din.

Delleto makes his way through the crowd over to the bar, extends his hand. They shake hands. "How the **** have you been, Snake?" Jack asks.

"Just great," Snake says. "Hey, you're lookin pretty fucken good for a dead man. I heard you fell off of a mountain."

"Who did you hear that from?" Jack wonders.

The bartender points across the room to where a man dressed in a pin stripped suit is swinging from one of the wagon wheel lights hanging from the ceiling.

"George! ****, I heard he was in jail."

Snake hands Jack a shot of tequila. The men touch glasses and throw down the shots.

"How's the other George?" Jack asks.

"AA." Snake tells him.

"How about Tommy? You see him anymore?"

"Rehab."

"What about Robby?

Snake refills the glasses and they drink them. "He's livin in a nudist colony in California and he's got two wives and six children"

Jack looks across the room and sees a drunken Bob O'Malley trying to adjust the rose in the lapel of his black tuxedo. Satisfied it won't fall out O'Malley looks up at the man swinging from the lamp. "Quick, George, name man's greatest inventions!"

George shoots back, "Alcohol, tobacco, and the wheel."

Bob smiles and then suddenly jumps up on top of the bar, and although he is over six feet tall and weighs two hundred pounds, he demonstrates the grace and dexterity of a ballerina as he pirouettes  around and jumps over the shot glasses and beer bottles that clutter the bar.

Wedding guests lean back in their chairs as strangers, fearful of his gyrations, ****** their drinks from the bar. Bob fakes a slip as he dances along but he is always in control and never falters. Forty three year old Bob O'Malley is Jim Brown who dodges danger to score the winning touch down.

When he reaches the end of the bar, he jumps to the floor, pulls to aluminum lids from the ice box, and with one in each hand smacks them together like cymbals.

Some people clap but the bemused just stare.

In the back of the room at the wedding table the father of the bride leans over and whispers into his crying wife's ear, "If I had a terminal illness, I'd shoot Bob."

The bride raises a glass of champagne into the smoke filled air and Bob takes a bow but then heads for the kitchen at the other end of the room.

"Hey Bob," Jack Delleto shouts to the groom over the music.

O'Malley stops under a wagon wheel lamp and turns as Delleto steps into the dim circle of light. "Congratulations, you're a lucky guy, Bob. I mean that." Delleto offer his hand and they shake hands.

"Thanks, Mister Cool. You must be a rock star."

Jack takes off the sunglasses.

"TWO black eyes," Bob says astonished. "You know your nose is bleeding. What happened?" Bob wants to know.

Jack takes a handkerchief  from his back pocket, puts it over his nose, and squeezes tightly. "It's broken."

"What happened?" Bob asks again.

"Bill Wain."

"He turned pro didn't he?"

"He's 5 and 0. Felix thinks he a natural but he's nothing special. He out weighs me by 20 pounds. ****, he couldn't even knock me down."

O'Malley shakes his head and then just smiles.

"She's beautiful," Jack tells Bob.

"Thanks Dell." O'Malley puts his hand on his friends shoulder and squeezes affectionately. He looks across the room at Theresa. "Yes, she is." Theresa's mother has stopped crying. The father just stares into the void.

"I 'm feeling real happy today." Bob O'Malley tells Delleto and then he looks away from his bride, passed the archway that divides the poolroom from the bar, and into the dark poolroom. With the light bulbs from the lamp above his head gleaming in his eyes, Bob seems to see something fleeting in a far distance. Slowly, a peculiar half smile forms showing his white uneven teeth.

Curious, Delleto turns his head to look into the darkness of the poolroom, too.

Bob looks down at Jack. "What are you starin at? " O Malley wonders.

"Do you hear them, Bob? Jack asks.

"Hear what?

"The shadows."

Puzzled , O'Malley asks, "What are you hearing, Jack?"

"Nothin," Delleto  succinctly tells his friend. "Nothin."

"A concussion," and Bob shakes his head. "You've probably got a concussion."

Now, Jack doesn't understand, but it does not matter because for a brief moment the two men have shared the same corner of darkness.

Bob says something to Paul Keater and Keater smiles broadly. He slides the rim of his Giant baseball cap to the side of his forehead and the two men disappear through the swinging kitchen door.
Umi Sep 2018
Majestically under the ominous, dark clouds,
The rain pours over the Earth, moistening it in a hard, then gentle way as each drop, each body of water sinks into the bottom, vanishes,
With a rythm, each follow a purpose, a goal they want to reach.
Fertilising the earth after a drought, letting life grow out of light after those dark clouds make room for the golden light of the rising sun.
Let them be distorted, these drops of cheer, sadness, happy thoughts and agony, carried by the rough storms of an autumn afternoon.
Hitting the window, they display their tune with their delicate figure,
In harmony with the wistling wind and the growling of the sinister thunder the orchestra of nature reaches it's peak in this sensation.
The sky is pitchblack, yet crossed by lightnings every now and then,
Providing a lightshow, which might be a bit too dangerous to be around, for the music of nature, dancing, swaying across the clouds,
What is it that makes this silly storm catch my attention so much ?
Perhaps, the song of the lonesome rain when everyone escapes in order to not get soaked, is what truly touches my heart.
Because there is no one outside to listen to it.

~ Umi
jeffrey conyers Oct 2018
He brought rings of diamond and things.
He showed you places with wealthy I never thought of in my life.
He pulled off the great scam in winning your love.

But when he lost his winnings of wealth.
You instantly was gone.
And what he saw?
Your love simply wasn't true.

You used him just like he was using you.

I met you in the middle of spring.
And when you came into my life I had not a single thing.
Except enough for both of us.

That life you used too.
You weren't going to find with me.
I wasn't going to buy you very many impressive things.

It wasn't like I didn't love you.
I was just testing to see if your heart were truly true.
Cause when you surround yourself with material things.
And it vanishes as summer will eventually replace spring.

Your eyes float by love like it doesn't mean a thing.

So this a lesson for both of us.
Love me for me.
As I love you for you.
And through the darkness, our light of love will shine forevermore.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
'Put my hand in the hand of the man from Galilee,

that song keeps playing in my memory, and I recalled

Or I thought I did, I imagined he'd walk with me
and talk with me
Along life's merry (or was it narrow?), way

a light touch, his arm around my shoulders,
as boys are wont to do,
I axed 'im,
help me fill the darkness behind my eyes,
which I think may have been blind, at that time,

I have memories like that.
packed away in old memes. That mean something...
Gold-something...
color maybe, Goldfarv? Bloom.
Right, my augmentatious savant
looked it up and I sorted what I recalled

Google The Global Brain, Howard Bloom,
where he named a kind of
category of knowability. Memes, he called them.

And I thought, memes mean something more,
not Dawkins's, nor Bloom's, but these,
heteromemes bubbling out my belly button,
look real close.

Here a seeing being done, words appearing...

fractally featureless by the time a clock could have been imagined,

the point of the story was made,
and there is no end in sight.

Pop. Another apocalypse bubble collapses by mortality. Whaddyaknow?

What remains when a bubble pops at a positron level,
after the charge is touched and
the tension-power-loss collapses the bubble?

You should think, you know atoms work, this way.

Touchy bubbles disappear when their form is disinformed,
the wall of a bubble,
one quanta of power thick,
vanishes
as the charge that formed it flees.
That bubble,
not cloud-based, random super positioning,but
elect
tric-magi-tech, a touch screened
at the quantum accounting point of real-ification,
but, probably,
a bubble,indeed,
powered, one way or another, with a single charge,
Go, that's it.
(I charge thee, son Timothy, go)
That's all an electron does.
It goes, as soon as any sense can be made of it,
outa here, oughta hear it, clear,
ping. No charge, no bubble, but next sure as...
No, ah, when I think about that..

****,
somethi' from nuthin musta hapt one time,

but ya'll take no heed, this voice,
m'fallin angel, Tantan, droppin' in ol-fren, tricky hybridbast...

Noah was a tellin' Ham the truth
found in wines that moved themselves aright,
slurry tongued, and laughin' but pisstoff.

The idea of somethin' goin' south in a family,
that started up again when
ever Noah started drinkin' old wine, sayin' sbetter'n...

Old story, God damened 'em, not me, I just
built the box.

Who told you I was *****? Noah queried Shem.

-- aye, ye know, Noah was drunk,
No excuse, but you know.

Things were said, that maybe could be forgotten, after a while,

But those father wounds a man imagines worst
are the one's his son's forgot.
Forgot can't be forgiven it seems, sometimes...

The story being told is complicated. See,
the Bible is a lens,
not a map.

I've looked so long through that lens,
that I began to see the bubble formed around me,
charged powerfully with fear,
'yond my bubble monsters lurked.

But, my bubble bumped another,
purest of happenstance,
the bubbles merged and merged again,
their power building to a wave,
crashing to the shore and no more
was I bubbled in my safe place.

I found this trail up from the beach.

It got me much farther than this, should you ever
visit me.
Did you regret the defeat at Ai,
or were you
Aachen, bold?

No, irrelevant, obtuse allusion to Yahshua,
that's not in the stack,
that card's about as relevant as McLuhan's hair of the dog.

Information unformed begins to boil deep in me.

Somethin', ain't it?  All them three meter dishes shrunk down
to the size of a spoon, a teeny weeny spoon, a coke spoon,
like on Miami Vice, back when.

Satellite TV changed the desert, fer sher, but 4g, brohan,

that was the trick. Elect trick.
Future, on demand, where outhouses are still de rigueur.

Before you know it, country kids,
too poor for any but outlaw dreams,
can audit courses at MIT,
if somebody
shows him, it can be done, prove t' him
it works, faith can make things happen,
but
happening as an event, in the Deep Field,
is sorta hard to nail down to one thing,
until the very last
Planc-sec.  
Astrophysics is part of the metagame, fer sher.
But
there's some stuff that takes some patience,
to learn. Fifty year'r longer.

Everything that's old and still works is only old, not rotten.

Olde time religion, at the oldfo'k dayroom,
where the clock runs the whole show.
It's another game show. Saint Bob Barker takes a bow,
and declares the potential worth of all your eyes behold,
behind the curtain,
lies the prize.

If, if, if you are a luckywinner and
you arise when I call your name
to come on down,
fall on your knees and declare the worth...

pure gamesmanships required here, golf whispers only,
worship, 'smuch more difficult to aim for than praise.
I agree.
Praise, appraisal, worthyness, worthship, prize, what's the diff?
How comes a thing to be worthy,
in your estimation? Tell me no lie.

A feeling? What's it worth?
Depends.
Safe? Priceless! Don't shout. There's money to make.

'Got a busy-ness pre-positioned high above the rest.
A super-positioned superstion. The darkness.
See, safety is a human right.
So we sell walls, impermeable. It's always, lights on
within, then
We'll be rich and powerful wallbuilding,
citi-zen warriors fed and fattened
by those we make
feel safe, from the dark unknowns seeping in.

That's the idea. It's worked for years, at least
since
we saw the Power in Myth and
capitalized Campbell's bliss and Sagan's billions and billions of stars.

Within these walls workers will work for food and a feeling.
And Facebook.
They choose a place and stand, and do what comes to hand.
Heartily
grip what's easiest for you to hold on to,
they are told.

Attendants bring the meds, settling every disruption
of the peace the patient craves in his comfort.
The price ain't right, m'mouthmumbles...

You are absolutely co-rect-allatime, tekayepeel.

There are wishes being made,
on all manner of stars
for happy ever afters.

If wishes were askings, what if
connecting to the source of haps which,
every expert knows, haps are
all happiness can possibly
consist of.
Oh, consist.
That sticky, gluteny idea stuck in my daily bread.
It's related to resist, desist and the command to stand.
Sistere. Shield-wall and all that. Turtles all the way down.

A disruption!
Day room Now! Granpa's shouting,

This is that bomb, this is a dam buster Jesus H Christ Bomb!
I'll drop it. I swear.

Something's bound on earth to go wrong,
ever since Eve bit that apple, if she'da left that apple on the apple tree
Nah, that ain't how it went down and
songs about it don't change it none.

But, maybe this is me interrupted... in my meander.

What if, nothing is immaterial,
as an idea, it can't go wrong,
and Murphy's law, obeyed, is good, all the time.
If nothing can go wrong, it won't.
Ask the pilot flying by faith in his checklist.

What if,
asking for help helps?
Was that a message? A touch by an angel?
Spirit, the idea? An answered prayer?

Are you familiar with its role in reality?
Something makes these bubbles spin, y'know.

Ignoring is bliss, nay,
No more,
precisely, nevermore,
quoth the raven, shall the man who can read
be locked away from all the stories,
telling eventualities that
men, wombed and un,
have told and tested for ever, it seems,

Stop
striving for perfection and let patience have her way witcha,

whatcha learn can change the world.

Look back. Good news from a far country come our way.
Grandpa made some sense and we built a fort, of pillows
This is a reworking of Good news from a far country, I am attempting to rein in my scattered mind. Let me know if you see improvement or parts in need thereof.
Jen Feb 24
So,
I tried this
Dating site
And what
Did I discover
That love
Is now
Many times
A cover
People aren't
Human
Much anymore
Maybe I'm
Made for
A deeper love
For sure
Experience #1
Met a younger
Man calls me
**** and says
He likes his
Women older
Talks in full
Detail about
How it will be
Then vanishes
Into thin air
Before we
Ever meet
Experience #2
Yes this one
Has a great
Sense of humor
Holds his own
Profile says
"Single" but
When we meet
For coffee for
The first time
He'll need to
Tell me his story
We sit there
In Starbucks
Music blaring
He tells me, his voice low
The truth
He is married
Has a daughter
In another country
And the baggage
Spilled into air
I looked at him
And said now
That's a burden
I can't bare
That fast
Disappeared
Experience #3
Another twenty seven
Year old man
Approaches
We chat about
Philosophy
For half an hour
He has a warm
Smile and is
Standing in a
Field of flowers
(In his pic)
He asks seemingly
Innocently
If I'd like to text
We exchange digits
Start to flirt
Before I know it
He says he finished
Before it started
He departed
Never met him
In real life
Never heard
From him again
The more I try online dating, the more I feel I'm becoming a feminist.

We are living in a world where people go on reality tv shows to find love...they think, and some eat it up like hot cakes. The Bachelor for instance...watched it for mindless entertainment. A Harem of women dating the same guy at the same time to see who he will pick and possibly become famous and noticed in the process. The Bachelor is a 25 year old ******...from watching it and seeing how scripted it is, I don't think he is really one.  I know real love exists...
It is implied imagination lives in memory,
for I have lived immortal in his memory!

Dying sunlight painted translucent gold varnish
over tree branches, and leaves wept in cinder
as sunlight pierced their flesh  
Sentient, solemn willows swayed in wind prayers,
Deep into her mind forest pagan temples rang
as though treasures hailed immortal proclamations
upon night
  
The fine chiffon billowed, a mere lambrequin
caressing her milky thighs ── the window ajar.  
Blue and white flowers in knots strewn along vines,
appeared violated, twisted valentine creatures,
lost in belief on Lupercalia dreams, blaring
into the impending night, screaming hungry ──
blooms awaiting their opening to moon promises of
fertile love

The old clock past that sings in tick of dying time ── her
mind a bush of stinging nettles,
a reminder to pain and wet in flesh.
Once married to magical inducements to deaths promise,
Pleasures that once sang from his lips,
"The song of sunsets elixir”,
An unparalleled potency to release mortal time

‘Awake in Malarian dreaming immortal ── writhing
in fragrant silent purple hazes of love that vanishes.
She waited across violet poppies and crimson bride orchids
on mortal memories.  
“I can taste you” came from her full lips,
finely cracked with need,
In the parlour poised, dreaming ardent dreams

The moon glinted off the lake beyond,
invoking querulous images,
Swirling, roaming a prayer in black laughed,
escaping the dead air about him
A battalion of flowers hung in nights trees, opulent
reminiscent to Victorian chandeliers.
His aurelo radiated black from a jewelled crown,
mesmerized she gazed

── He blew quietus, a cold gust of emptiness & neglect,
the candles restless flickering ceased,  
his tines glinting by moon lights silver smile  
His breath bore a spice, and a mild coolness encircled her waist,
arms raised, a kiss he placed to each her wrists
Reverent, passionately he bit consuming, gorging in ****
Her mind danced in sparkled delight,    

Springs first ****** shoots sped across time and,
watercolour smears of emerald splashed
earth in communion, between life and death,
between death and life,  she took her last breath.  

She listened to his shatter, ‘into black shards
his ‘obsidian motion tore into night’
A black fire star stained across amaranthine skies,
touching, delicately bleeding into mortal dreams
in poets and writers
It is said, “Love bites but once in true love”

──Unto death shall we once again meet
immortal “In just one piece, poetry we bite”.





©ASPAR S2018(A Sol Poet Arnay Rumens)
express Feb 8
universe is one painfully long interstellar song with a deliciously repetitive melody that i cut into 84 pieces that i planned on eating but put in the cd player and listened to on shuffle instead
with my solar husband
who abracadabras into my life and out of as he pleases and the couple seconds between one song and the next are actually 6 eternities and he vanishes with the music and i sit here patient,
i sit here waiting as the music and the young man wait on the other side of the incandescent earth for me
its slightly confusing
and i hadn't entirely understood until yesterday when i stood under that mess of stars that pose above me every time the moon says "esta anocheciendo"
so shut your window, crawl into bed
i hadnt entirely understood it until 72 moons before tonights:
i
love myself more
your hair smells rich and your pores **** me in but i love me more than you ever could and its funny, i laugh because you cant hear me anymore
open your eyes
let me sing it again the universe is one painfully long interstellar song and you cant hear me anymore but you speak my laugh and i smell your dances and as if im sleep walking, my face is closed but i float to you and you catch me, as you try to look away our ******* begin interacting while our fingers both look for distinct parts of each others skin to sink themselves in
we're too busy painting landscapes in our brains of flowers and how much longer do we have to waits and once our fingers have subconsciously found exactly where they want to live
you and i sit and listen to ‪the mixtures‬ of yawns and strings and palms and rings of saturn
here we are again im alone and i know where to find you but choose not to
after that i sat in a bowl of Good Music and before i knew it i was being preheated then all at once i went up in flames
i came back down, in ashes, i rose again, this is the shape that i was given my only motivation is soon, i can return to the top right corners of your masterpieces as the moon
Father Jul 2018
Um basically that I'm not crazy that she's being rediculous  and selfish and legit tell me I'm right not dismiss it like oh how about we try and work with her even more then what I just sent u and have her make it even more difficult on me u all think it so easy I get off work at 9 no way I could take him to school and my son will want to see his family at my house not just Legoland everyone always thinking of themselves and **** one day I won't be here and then everyone will see how far I was pushed and how hard. I worked and how hard I tried and when that happens itll be too late because I'll be gone u have ur kids u have ur husband Stephen does everyone has someone I legit am all I have so the only kind of love I get to where I feel like I'm needed is my son he's all I have and what keeps me going but Jesus iv been fighting like a maniac for almost 6 years now to keep him in my life and sacrifice my health my happiness my everything just so I can pay child support and try to get him as much as I'm able outa of pure selfishness no one gets it no one trys to get it everyone is focused on everything else to really see what's going on u have no idea how many times I write my good bye letters to everyone but stop when I get to my son because I legit can't and won't and absolutely refuse to leave him alone with that ***** and that selfish family all he has but Jesus dude I'm not super man I get **** from everyone in every direction and constantly get told and made to feel like I'm hated and everything else when I legit do so much for everyone and care so much about everyone and the one thing I have my happiness is my child my son and I never get to even take him for more than a day and I'm dead tired because I work my *** off to distract myself from my ****** existence and misserey I've been thru **** and back my entire life and I'm stronger because of it but no one understands that my laughter my smiles my jokes my comedy is to distract me and everyone else to the reality that I'm on the verge of death the verge of giving up the verge of loosing hope the verge of saying goodbye to the one thing that deserves so much more than I could give my baby boy my hero my heart my soul my everything my pride and joy how happy I was to find out of his creation and ready I was to bring the beautiful blessing to the world into my life how ready I was to be there and watch the miracle of him every step every laugh every tiny amazing miracle of him growing and learning and I've had all the dreams all the hope  to be there and deserved to be there still deserve to be there and missed so much of his life because of a evil hateful selfish heartless demon that manipulated my mind my actions and my heart and took what strength I had and fed on it with pleasure and sick love for destroying my soul I'm living in **** and the demon that is evil has fed clawed and ****** away my will to the point where I'm just a dim light of what I was born to be and have the potential to be the light is almost out and my little savior my baby boy is left with nothing but a shadow a like a belief that his protector didn't care and wasn't there and the demon will feed him nothing but lies and hate and fill him with nothing but hate and  resentment and confusion and anger until his sweet Innocents vanishes and light starts to dim and left to feel all alone this is as deep as it gets do I share this do I send this questions I am left with do I open up and cry for help scream for help problem is I've been screaming for years and I'm trapped so far into the darkness that no one can see or hear the crys the begging and pleading for it to end save me Help me someone but there's no one just me my miracle and the demon trying to devour what's left of my soul and diminish me from existence and tarnish and manifest itself to become the very image of me and my baby boy will look at me as nothing but the very  demon  that left him without a father as the demon feeds him the darkness I left behind the memory of me will be nothing but a random thought that will be covered up by lies and fear and resentment in my child's eyes because the demon is now me in my child's eyes and that's when the demon wins that's when the demon is finally full not after I'm gone but when the last bit of love or light I leave behind is replaced with itself and my baby boy thinks of me as nothing but the very demon that destroyed me then just maybe then the demon will win cause now the demon is my son's mother the only one there and becomes the hero and I become the demon in his eyes I'm lost I'm afraid I'm alone and begging and pleading for it to change to end to stop in the end if **** is for ever and if I'm in **** and it really is for ever then the only thing I'll be wanting or screaming or hoping is for it to end to stop to cease to exist in the end my enemy is not the demon feeding on my soul it's the never ending pain and suffering the forever the continue the hope the urge to keep going in the end my enemy is time and the only way I can stop time is to take my self out of the equation and the light that is left the life the will to live goes out dies disappears and leaves nothing but a void and darkness like it never existed good bye is close and hope is lost my will is gone nothingness is where I'm headed my little miracle is all that keeps the light inside my soul lit the flame is low and I'm affraid that it won't last or make it
Comment
Sean M O'Kane Nov 2018
How often do you hear the expression "there's never enough time"?
Too much to fully comprehend its full ramifications:
The lost moments,
the endless "what if?" of unrealised human experience that simply vanishes in the ether,
the cold antiseptic realisation of death and one's grief for the time not spent with loved ones.
The misery of losing out to it all.

I say stop.

Embrace your family & friends while they are still sharing the same breath as you.
Forgive them for whatever trespasses they have & find a new commonality in love.
Tell them of their unmeasurable worth to you and all the others in their demi-monde.
Endlessly compliment them on their radiance and sheer uniqueness in the face of adversity.  

But don't forget to relish the gloriously diverse life all around you.
Or seek out the beauty of humanity's immense creativity and start to participate.
Sample how life can be truly transcendent if you just pay attention.
There is more to us all that waiting on the "right", convenient moment to connect.
Because, my friend, there is enough time for us all:
you just need to change the direction as time is no friend to our fragility.

November 7th 2018
My mother passed away last Thursday and in my grief over the weekend, I have been contemplating on the fragility of life and how we relate to each other when that fragility falls. I guess I was lucky in that I did (just) make time to be with her but I know many others out there were not so fortunate to have that last chance to be with loved ones. I think this poem reflects my slowly emerging way of seeing all of this differently having previously using my busy life as an excuse not to engage with what really matters. I'd like to think that might be why I was called back to her before she went. She did, after all, tell me not to worry last time we spoke because she knew I was a worrier. Her very last words to me as the Skype call hung up. RIP Mum. ***
jeffrey conyers Oct 2018
It gets complicated when you don't control your situation.
All love ask?
Is to be love.

All love requires?
Is to be inspired.
Held to a degree to make others see it.

Want to be involved in sharing it.

Listen, all love ask?
Is to be respected.

When mistreated it soon vanishes.
Having you seeking another journey.

For those that planted it into another heart.
To later find that it's falling apart.

Remember this(life's lesson)
All love ask?
Is to be love.
warm gun:

Imagining Korine, bleed out in ‘Fight Harm’
imagining his shattered ankle drag across the city sidewalk

Dreaming of seeing Frusciante, live on stage
as he vanishes into his mind, trapped in the sound

Seeing all of Schwartzman’s movies & shows
Rushmore, Spun, Huckabees & more

with the mind of a rock, dish or mold
and with all of pure being  
i avoid a painful death, on the bathroom floor
losing blood in seconds
watching brown turn white

Listening to Labor Days for the 100th time
& all of Aesop’s other classics, Daylight, Rings & Dorks

Listening to alt-J’s - House Of The Rising Sun
as it reinvigorates my wanderlust
with it’s multicoloured soundscape

writing insecurities into black notebooks
crying with a red blanket around my neck
wondering where to put the shame
remembering i have a need to share

Fincher, Kaufman, Guadagnino, Dolan
all i can say is
thank God for cinema
don't know where this one came from, decided to just take a chance with it...
Annie Feb 19
All of my thoughts are melting
Inside my mind into a lake of dreams
In which I only see reflections
Of thou and all of thy belief

I cannot touch thy picture clear
Or grasp beneath the surface
Unless I blight or chase away
All what thou hold and bear

I can't do anything but listen
For any silent sound
Watch every detail of expression
And stay on trusted, solid ground

Unless when every light but thy
Vanishes before my eye
I see you everywhere but here
And search for thy embrace
That I can only find inside
The mere of thoughts inside my mind
I take a dive, I fall asleep
And search thou in my dreams
Inside a long forgotten place
Of inner peace and faith

I take thy hand
I hear thy voice
Until I understand
About a young man, understanding his faith and connection to his god in a dream. (Fictional)
Ayush Gangwar Oct 2018
When i get totally lost ,
You come and find me …
When every inch of my heart gets broken down,
You collect me out and unite me…
When everything seems to be vanish and life become trouble ,
You hold my hand and strengthen me to a next level…lllll

When my pain cried out loud,
You come to me and distribute it off…
When my shiny side capture by the darkness,
You illuminated me by Brightness of your soul…
When i am alone ,
You give me company…
Everytime when i was in sorrow and pain,
You come to me again and again ,
Rotates your magical wizard and vanishes it ,
just like the fairy do in fairy tales…

You are my strength, you are my weakness too,
I am never be able to live without you…

I am incomplete without you just like a garden without flowers and a glossy green carpet roll,
You fills my empty body with a beautiful soul…

Someone find a friend, Someone find a partner,
But you are more than that for me ,
Who reorient me and make me laugh even in my hard times,
Who celebrates with me just like a joyful fate ,
You are nothing but my beautiful soulmate…
Me without you is just like a body without soul.
Aspen Welsch Mar 16
I know what you’re all about because you’ve told me.

You’re against using medicine and chemicals.
Unless I put them in my body and they become the permission slip for you to *** inside me.
Somehow this feminism pill that is supposed to liberate me is really liberating your ****.

You’re against plastic surgery.
Until I need it to fix this unbroken vessel which you can’t help but make comments about while we stand ***** and on exhibit in the shower.

You’re against hurting women.
Unless it involves “hog-tying me and carrying me around like a brief case.”
Then it’s just **** and what you’re into.
I guess I should work on finding the pleasure in that.

You’re against me using a ******* chef’s knife to cut pizza rather than a pizza cutter.
Until it becomes an opportunity to tell me I’m doing it wrong.
I’m going to dull the knife you are so cunningly waiting to shove in my back.

You’re against giving in to unhappiness.
Unless it’s an excuse for you to ignore me.
I forgot I already reached my frown quota and you were given the free infinity pass at birth.

You’re against eating meat.
Unless it’s human meat because you aren’t above cannibalism. How many of us have you chewed up and **** out, anyway? I am just one more unassuming girl to be preyed upon.

You’re against pessimism.
Until it’s your life, your opinion, your need to rain on everyone’s parade. You say I don’t see the silver lining in the clouds, but it’s because I’m consumed by your storm. The entire sky is overcast and I can’t, or won’t, be the rainbow every single time.

What is a rainbow anyway?
Depending upon which way you look, it vanishes into nothing. Beautiful, but transparent and fleeting. I give you pleasure for a moment and then I am forgotten.
I am a refraction.
A bending light.
Invisibility spreading it’s legs wide open to give you a smile in fabulous color.

You shout these qualities in your autobiography like I’m supposed to give you some type of award.
The reality is that being in a relationship with you means constantly teetering on the balancing beam of a double-edged sword.
The only thing you’re really against is me.

On day 1 you told me you were an *******.
And I thought you were just exaggerating.
Eva Aloezos Dec 2018
So many of us are addicted to social media.


I swear on anything you happen to believe in, life is far better without it.

I have not had social media for 7 years.

I have observed the very few other people my age who don’t have social media, I really think I only know two.

When you delete social media, it feels as if the burden of earth on your shoulders evaporates into thin air.

It is astounding how free one feels when they break the chain of virtual slavery.

The most important thing, one becomes much more genuine when they cut their ties with the online social scene.

Not because they are inherently better than those with social media, but because we are complex beings.

When countless people are watching, the brain by default tends to create different versions of ourselves, defense mechanisms in the form of armor. To protect us from the cruel, demeaning, and often embarrassing consequence of online interaction.

You are able to take in a feeling or experience, and appreciate it for what it is. A short occurring, emotion inducing, moment in time,
which expires right as it vanishes.

No electronic will ever encapsulate the beauty the human brain is capable of

This is not a poem,
just something I sincerely believe in.

Not to insult, I genuinely feel that it is worsening lives. I am not telling people how to live their lives, just simply to think and consider. Consider the possibility that you will not be ***** and vulnerable in this world, as the idea of no social media frequently feels.

In fact, you become more open to the world. Down to Earth.

Merry christmas,

This piece of crystallized intelligence is the most valuable gift I have to give.
Kenji Dec 2018
I walk along the tight rope in shame.
Whispering to myself "hold your **** together''
Halfway through, almost reaching the end, the pain surges, electrocuting through my whole body, static.
I fall
Not knowing how I'm going to land.
She jumps out from inside of me as I hit the sandy ground.
Head jolts, slow motion review.
Hurting, the pain I deserve, for knowing, knowing too much. the power consumes.
It rushes like a harsh wind, like a storm that cannot be unveiled.
Yielding inside of me, she bursts, and explodes like a thunder exhibition.
Laying next to me, only I can see her.
Her dark eyes staring into mine, I try to look past the horror.
"Don't leave me" a careless whisper.
She vanishes into thin air, I lose myself in despair.
I stare up at the high ceiling, waiting for the other ones to give me life and healing.
One unleashes, but one of fury and anger, Sukubus, the fighter.
She gets up in an aggressive explosive motion and attacks everyone around her viciously.
Here I am again, switching.
Switching, needing those people inside of me to keep me alive.
Like a spirit, without them I am dead.
Creation of the mind fighting against reality trying to show, but hiding in promiscuity.
I'm a good liar, choosing to be honest.
The will I have has weakened to the inner pits of my core, and without these personas, I am nothing but a rotting corpse.
So, I ask for those around me to stop judging me please.
I am only trying, trying for so long, that doing has me acting out too **** impulsively.
Forgive me, I was born to sin, but to love so passionately, a loyal mind of pure integrity.
I wish not to be so alone in melancholy, but defeated, so I stand alone, trying to survive the unknown.
I open my eyes, looking around me, seeing everyone dead, blood scattered and bodies twisted.
I get up, and start again, unleashing another personality.
My personality deformations
James Jan 29
Seething pain, deep inside,
I'm a wretch, why can't I die?
Through the valleys deep and low,
Sinking down how far must I go?
Dark and scary getting weary,
Falling faster falling further.
Deep down I go, into the abyss,
No light in sight, oh how much I miss.
How can I do it, what must be done??
The deeper I go the darker this gets,
How evil I am with many regrets.
I'm falling now, suspended in stillness,
The further I go, the darker this is, all my feeling just vanishes.
With feelings bled away, happiness can not stay.
I'm lying here in numbness but I'm here okay?
Can't feel anything,
Make it go away!
This is not for nothing, it's all for something,
The Lord's returning, I know He's coming.
Though I can't rest, it's for the best,
God's will is the awesomest!!
I'm suffring here, but more He did there➕               
On the cross He hung, dead and still,
Thank You Lord, for dying on that hill.
But up He rose, on the glorious third day,
So here I'll wait, for His happiness again.
He's still with me, as from the start,
I'm filled with joy, because He won't depart!
Bless You Lord, for your gift of love,
I thank You Lord for Your loving heart.
Depression is hard but the Lord gives wings like eagle's so we can fly above

— The End —