Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ryn Feb 2015
.
•they'd               
come at night•               
these footsteps are               
never light• always                    
heavy and running ar-                      
ound•...they are annoy-                        
ingly creepy..., these aw-                       
ful sounds•every night,                          
after eleven without                        
fail•into rooms,                        

us they would                        
tail• making a                        
din overhead                        
•when all                        
                         should
                        be quiet inste-
                         ad•like barefooted
                          children i would ***-
                          ume...•wandering and
                          exploring into every ro-
                           om•...could they come
                            wilfully•from the cou-
                                ple who live above
                            me•i very much

                             doubt so•bec-
                             ause this much
                             i know...•that
                             the neigh-

bour up-                    
stairs, they're                        
old•frail and meek;                            
never bold•they'd re-                            
tire early•after late, ne-                            
ver a party•now... there                            
the feet go again•drivi-                            
ng me almost insane•                            
on my ceiling now,                            
they're pacing•                        

they know i kn-                        
ow and they are                        
playing•these                        
invisible                        
                        feet•ne-
                        ver would we
                            meet•one thing for
                           sure•this is not a friv-
                            olous tour•determined
                            to tell•that they exist
                              as well•nothing i'm
                               certain but it is clear
                               •i think they really
                              like it here...•

                              •i don't think
                               they're leavi-
                              ng•they're
                 ­              bent on


staying...
.
I live in an apartment on the 2nd storey. My family and I would hear these footsteps every night.

Initially we would dismiss it to be the neighbour living upstairs but that became very improbable simply because the couple who lives above us are far too old to be jumping and skipping in the wee hours...

We have tried ignoring the sounds but they would intensify. We'd hear intentional heavy footsteps, running, jumping between rooms but most of the time they would follow us to whichever room we're in.

Lately these sounds had progressed to rapping on the concrete walls in my bedroom. I could hear them as I lay in bed knocking and tapping on the wall by me.

The thing is... I live in a corner apartment and beyond that wall is the exterior of the building... There is no way anyone could be on the opposite side of that wall...

Creepy much?
.
ryn Jan 2015
.
             *the *future is...a tornado of uncertain-
          ty• a swirling vortex, in its centre is
me•such power and speed, can ne-
ver see•can never foretell, it's hid-  
den debris•like clockwork, it will        
   make contact•by the second, bra-        
cing for next impact•the past is...      
  yet another•wild winds that echo      
     my mistakes as reminder•this twis-         
      ter within...tearing with no remo-    
           rse•destroying confident strong-
             holds, breaking feebly boarded
           doors•can't ease the rage...eat-
    en from the inside•won't stop
until...my beating heart had
        died•the present is...only this  
   frail little body•fighting huge 
battles that come incessantly  
  •fending off the future, con-        
    taining the past•not know-            
ing how long.......this disas-       
ter would last•but I'm still      
   here.....still holding integ-         
   rity......•still fighting this       
war waged in history's        
folly•will i be settl-
ed? will the winds
ever abate?•
will i ever
      come to    
terms...?
will i
ever
    acc-
          ept
                     fa      
                 t
               e
             ?
             •
The Anybodies Jun 2015
Susurraré contra tu oído cosas inexplicables para tí
Como la más hermosa poesía para mí.
Me colaré en tus sueños.
Te haré vivir, haré que la adrenalina corra por tus venas y que grites de euforia.
Al despertar por las mañanas vas a queres ver mi rostro y mi nombre te sonará sin querer en la cabeza.
Al verme tu corazón palpitará más rápido, ya verás.
Seré lo último que recuerdes antes de dejarte caer en la inconciencia del sueño y volveré.

Y voy a volverme tu unica realidad, lo unico en lo que siempre creerás.
Seré lo que tú ya no serás para mí.
Viviré en tu mente y no me dejarás escapar.
Porque yo te enseñaré a vivir.

Sólo tatuaré mi nombre en tu esencia.
jane taylor May 2016
las nubes en el cielo se deleitan
en la felicidad.

pueden ver sobre todo el mundo
y averiguar que las almas de
la humanidad son perfectas.

y cuando viene la noche
las nubes han dejado su tranquilidad
pintado a través del cielo.

tal vez sea por esta razón
que las estrellas brillan.

©2016janetaylor
address for soundcloud version
https://soundcloud.com/user-229781433/las-nubes-saben-1
Äŧül Jul 2018
I got inducted into a PhD program.
I am very happy now.

Loving my days as they shine,
Over the edge I pushed sorrow,
Viewing my love grow mature,
Enjoying the achievements I am.

Putting consciously the efforts,
Onto hers and my own life too,
Over the hours of togetherness,
Jovially invested time & loyalty,
Actuating each other to do the best.
I am offered admission to a PhD program and I think that apart from my parents' guidance and my own efforts, my best friend Pooja Shah is to be credited for boosting my confidence and focus.

From August 1, begins a year of hardwork and dedication.

My HP Poem #1713
©Atul Kaushal
One day at a time, I'll turn it o-ver.
Keeping it simple now, I'm just stay-ing so-ber,
taking what I need/leave all the rest.
My mind will fol-low my body in quest.

HALT!
To turn it o-ver...
...one day at a time, just keeping so-ber.
Taking what I need, leaving all the rest.
My body to fol-low my mind in quest.

One day at a time, I'll turn it over.
Keeping it simple now, I'm just stay-ing so-ber,
taking what I need/leave all the rest.
My mind will fol-low my body in quest.

HALT!
To turn it o-ver...
...one day at a time, just keeping so-ber.
Taking what I need, leaving all the rest.
My body to fol-low my mind in quest.

One day at a time, I'll turn it o-ver. . .
These are the tips for the 12-step AA program. I just put them together in a rhyme for a song.
KCibot Jul 10
(Song)

Verse 1:

A gun's pressed up
Against my head
All the time
In my mind

I see a sea
Of violet red
All the time
In my mind

I feel
A pain
That Ne
Ver fades

I hear
A scream
And then
I see

Chorus:

A million ways
That I could die
I feel them all
Inside

I hope that
They will come
Come and
Take me

A million ways
That I could die
I see them
In my
Mind

I pray that
They will come
Come and
Save me

Verse 2:

The executioner
Takes my hand
And leads me to
My final stand

He asks me for
My last remarks
But I have none
Just hit your mark

Cause I feel
A pain
That ne
Ver fades

I hear
A scream
And then
I see

Chorus

Verse 3:

No I don't want
An easy death
I want to taste
My final breath

I want to feel
The sweet relief
That only death
Can bring to me

I wanna feel my
Final breath
I wanna sha ake
The hand of death

I wanna fe eel the
Sweet relief
Tha at
Death
Will
Bring

Chorus
Still
Haunted
Mi alma de viento
mi cuerpo de papel.
mis manos arrugadas
mi piel blanca.

Soy de papel,
papel doblado,
papel de regalo,
mis labios coloreados
mis ojos café,
mi cuerpo tatuado
de versos ajenos
y otros privados.

Soy de papel
un poco desgastado.

Me han escrito en la espalda
mensajes que no logro ver,
me han cortado con tijeras
y me he arrugado con el tiempo.
Me han besado
y me han dejado las marcas del labial,
hay quienes  leyeron mi alma descrita en prosa.

Pero se han ido, se han borrado
eso que con tanta pasión
un día nos unió.

Soy de papel,
papel de regalo,
papel de un cuaderno
olvidado.
Walking out 'upon-the-grass,'
found myself a-lone.
Roses, trees, the walking paths,
a second sort of home.

How did,
how did I...
How did I get this way?

People in the park at night,
find themselves a-lone.
People in the park at night,
wandering, -no home.
Silhouetted moving shades,
invisible by day.
People in the park at night,
-not people now they say.
and they,
they are...
-just wandering away,
-wandering away.


Laying up against the Oak,
Father I am home.
Open skies, see stars amass,
I am not a-lone?
Why was this my destined path?

How did I get this way?

People in the park at night,
they are not a-lone.
People in the park at night,
WAN-DER-ING BUT HOME.
Silhouetted moving shades,
invisible by day.
People in the park at night,
-not people now they say!
PEOPLE IN THE PARK AT NIGHT,
lost along the way.
SLEEPING IN THE PARK TO-NIGHT,
crumbling; they fray.


Lord why?
why are things...
why are things...
Why are things this way?

Falling from this life at last,
found I'm not alone?
Jesus came to see me pass,
said

"Nev-ver were you a-lone."

People in the park at night,
see themselves a-lone.
People in the park to-night,
not wandering but home...


Never are they alone.
F Jan 30
the wet sheets and stale air,
lingering cigarettes, softness of your
rhythmic breath.
your legs in mine, your heels
on my toes, your head nestled in
the contours of my neck.

here is my place of calm:
your body. the clockwork of it,
how, every couple of minutes, you jostle,
and i squeeze you which sends you back still.
how dead the world is
outside of here. the stars are muted next to you.

it’s your unapologetic zealousness,
flaming confidence. you could be naked on a stage
(which you have) and not blink twice.
blatant disregard of opinion,
drop-kicking them away. the world is yours
and you are eating it whole.

you are brighter than this town.
destined for bigger and better things.
flashing your white smile,
you could charm the gods to your will.
i only hope i can keep up, or, rather,
that you let me.
a love letter to my oliver, who will hopefully never read this.

everyone has an oliver. never let them go.
ow that you're gone
n
  very now and then I think of this
e
  ery question to ask: did you
v
  ver
e
  eally love me?
r

!
Othon Dec 2018
Anjos abandonados carregando minha carcaça numa carroça aos trambolhões
E maltrapilhos badalando sinos errantes
De igrejas feitas em ruínas 
Parábolas enigmáticas e paradoxos assombravam como um martírio
Penetrando aos espasmos no poço da alma
Os mais imponderáveis e indignados verbos
Enquanto contrastava com sinistras verdades
Ditas no pio de uma coruja depenada
Entretanto, nunca alcançadas
Em um coração moldado no infinito
No que não pode ser tocado...
Não era nada, nem ninguém
E no entanto, carregava uma estrela
Insondável no âmago do coração
Brilhava, e ninguém podia ver...
Invisível aos olhos mais atentos
Talvez algo apenas para ser sentido
Por aqueles que não se sentiam mais parte do mundo
E talvez do universo...
Skaidrum Jun 2015
.
A story is brothers with a poem.
That's all this is, family.

~~~
Your soul couldn't get any bigger,
twilight crept over your toes, and
before you knew it---
it was gliding along your throat.

Cliffs aren't made of bones,
they rock and gleam like armor gnashing
twin dragon scales.  The earth growls and lashes, dominance is its domain.

Bellow my legs I view the darkness pleading~
I've never witnessed a starving sea,
it begged to swallow every inch of
my crippled heart of wine.

I'm hanging by the wires we call gallows,
tendrils thinning like my silver lining.
Soon I'll feel the tides swallowing at my spine.
When I fall,
I'll do so
bliss-
ful-
y

This cliff has lockjaw,
the stones morphing into fangs of a Greek legend.
You're staring at me,
Saturn now makes its home in your auburn depths.
How I'll miss the misty mountains,
because you named them
after me.

A whisper louder than thunder,
lonesome ashes staining venom on my tongue.  
Coughing up my regrets as if
I had lung cancer.

I'm a hanging nightmare.
That's ready to drown.

No wonder they call you daughter of old man winter, you're practically frozen in place.
I've seen the universe, but I think I'll swing by hell for a change.

"Ahkira....Ahkira look at me."
Why must your voice be so drippy?  I thought you were a frost flower.
Since when did you melt when it sleeted?

"Yes?"

"Don't let go....Don't let go please...I'm coming."

"It's no use.  I'm going to die,
Cinder."
Oh but darling,
you should've stayed glued to glass.

"Don't say that!  I-"
With a lurch the mottled sky pinned you down,
senselessly, you crashed to the floor, 6 feet away from my hourglass body.

"Give me your hand!"
You reached, but I couldn't hold the wire.
Slip-
ping
ne-
ver
felt
so
****
wick-
ed,

But I was wrong.
Your soul multiplied.
It expanded.

But before I fell into the hug of oblivion, I tugged at your heartstrings my very last time.
I brushed the surface of your being and my words stung perfectly in your ear.
"Close your eyes."
.
You never did.




This is about two girls, on a cliffside.  One is hanging from the cliffs edge, while the other is paralyzed from fear.  The girl is hanging is the one leading the poem.
As there is a massive storm around them making the area dangerous.
The girl who is trying to save the other finally runs forth, but wind knocks her off her feet.  Out of breath, she reaches for the other while crying and screaming.  But the other is slipping.
Then she falls.

"Close your eyes."
You don't want to see me struggle.

For Lycan.
© Copywrited
Skye Nov 2018
thaw my soul, moonshine
tease the fervor from my veins
ignite my spent wick
Gil Cardoso Feb 8
O melhor das viagens
É o fim do trajecto
É o impacto do novo
É cheirar novas cores
É ver outros adores

Sim, porque em novos mundos
Até os sentidos estão ao contrário

O que é dor agrada
E o veneno não mata

Que pena durar tão pouco
E ter de voltar a partir
Escrito 01/02/2018
Jr Aug 2018
el infierno adorna sus paredes
empiezan bailes y ritos
gotas de sangre rebotan en las mejillas de los malvados
Altísimos altares alzan las siluetas de quienes detestamos
levantamos el rostro para ver
Mientras se ríen y escupen sobre nuestras cabezas

incesantes gritos sirven de cantos
autores los pisoteados
quienes vomitan la culpa
se retuercen como en coreografía
espectáculo duro de ver
pero no aparto la vista

muerte y rabia es lo que se inhala
cada vez que se respira
mientras puñales atraviesan estómagos
rostros y miembros

mientras yo
cierro los ojos y cubro mi nariz
pero aún escucho
Oriada Dajko Jan 27
Tú que has creado algo más allá del tiempo
ni sabes que traes Dios en tu vientre,
un Dios más en nuestro mundo que nadie va a creer,
uno otro Dios que nadie tiene que entender,
uno otro Dios que no será aceptado por ninguno,
uno otro Dios más que será juzgado por cada uno,
y así regresara a ti, crucificado por su buena voluntad,
y solamente tú lo vas a ver aún como el Salvador,
porque solamente tú verás su Milagro,
vivirás la vida más que una vez con el
tocando el universo con sus manos, con su piel,
buscando la verdad con sus palabras, con su voz,
matando la soledad con su ser, con sus sueños,
muriendo cada momento con el
por ser incapaz a cambiar el Destino de su ser.
Othon Dec 2018
Não havia nada para mim
Eu sempre fingi meu sorriso
Há tantos anjos descuidados responsáveis por mim
Eles dão-me doença
Eles dão-me uma dor na minha garganta para me alimentar
Dizendo "pague-nos o preço e nós iremos embora"
Agora fecham meus olhos e eu não posso ver
Estes são os tempos que eu temia
Esses são os destinos que eu tirei do caminho...
Agora eles voltam aqui para me assombrar...
Ciel Noir Jul 2018
H☉♆ m₳n¥ wonδeπ who ☨hεy arε?
H☉♆ m₳n¥ wonδeπ how ₳nδ why¿
Aπε wε a⋮l maδe ☉f thε s₳me s☨ars?
Aπε wε a⋮l paπt ☉f thε s₳me sκy?

H☉♆ m₳n¥ dimεn∮ion∮ aπe thεre?
H☉♆ m₳n¥ theη m₳y we ☨r₳ver∮e?
I∮ ☨hεrε ano☨hεr Eaπt⊩ somεwhere¿
I∮ ☨hεrε ano☨hεr Un↑vεrse¿

W⊩₳t δo ♆e kn☉w ♭ut w⊩a☨ we fεel?
W⊩₳t ⋮iςht pπo♩ect∮ t⊩is s⊩adow s⊩o♆?
H☉♆ d☉ wε kno♆ t⊩at t⊩i∮ is rεal?
H☉♆ d☉ wε kno♆ wε'll e∇eπ kno♆?
Daan Vandelay May 20
Het gebeurt dat ik van paling droom.
Ik keer woord na woord,
zie *** de kok zijn lepel plooit, vermoordt
uit woede en de redder, zonder schroom,
in zijn racecar van de radar
vertrekt. Tot ik wakker word en zie
dat mijn koorts op het meetsysteem
duidelijk een strook te ver trekt,
verder dan ik zou willen lezen.
Neem een pil, lip, neem een
libellebil, dan zal je genezen.
De geniezing van een fever dream. Ah en LEGOVOGEL!
Jr Dec 2018
todo lo que toquen
sus manos
será ceniza

el oro no sirve
ni se come
ni se puede beber

                 ceniza

se pega a tu piel
y entra en tus poros
se vuelve una con la tierra

te abraza en el tiempo

te acompaña para siempre

aleja en un susurro
las codicias de los mundanos
la ceniza

entra en tus ojos
para no ver las llamas
para no oler el miedo

mientras el mundo no es más
que caos y lamentos
Next page