gothic mistress Sep 2010
bats on a wing soaring high
chasing their pray
in a blood lust frenzy
ravaging emotions
in a moonlit sky.
wide awake in the dead of night
heart rhythmaticly beating
to distant drums
of flights of fantasy
just out of grasp
till the morning light.
not daring to look
deep inside me
an empty vessel
i scream your name
silence speaks
yet another day.
copyright gothic mistress 2010
joe perez Nov 2014
Within creased paper lie binded souls
Firmly held within my clutch ,
Ideology hemorrhaging as non-opposables only bend so much.
Thirsty i reached for a swig of your cup 
Open palmed 
This vessel mishandled 
the contents soaked through bedrock
Its remains a drink for the decrepit.
Poems by Dayana Dec 2014
a light at the end of the tunnel
is the freedom
in the words I type
Where would I be
without the steady click
of my mind laying into the soft
caress of a screen, as for paper
it's insolent and my pen it ran out of ink
The lines I draw, are only in my mind
as I've seemed to have misplace the valley where the dead rest
The tangible object where many of writers have left their soul
The pages where have they gone ?
The smell, and the history, all here in this screen
A bird sits at my window sill as if waiting for me
to deliver some sort of message
she will fly and soar and anyone who lays on her will know
that I couldn't deliver the message I was told to write
I couldn't jump over to the other side
I couldn't make it through the forest without becoming more lost
I didn't try hard enough, I let fear take hold.
I wanted so badly to become
The one,
the one you all need,
but the tree's they laid witness
to trial after trail of failure
laid between the click of a keyboard a new generation
of the vessel that we use to pour our souls into
my thoughts captured before my eyes and
just one click and you will all see
and maybe you will feel the failure I  carry
the failure i've never confronted myself with
a perfectly honest revelation
of how I failed you all,
of how I couldn't jump,
of how I let the fear of the pain
get in the way of the success of a champion.
Now I'm in my room feet firmly planted in reality and i still
feel the fear
I still feel the self doubt
the feeling that no matter how many times I jump
i'll always fall short
I'll never make it to the other side
I'll never be a person solidified in a vessel
whose soul was felt
whose soul was known
I'll never bring the world together, or sacrifice
I'll most likely be average
I'll mostly likely die without hearing
the sound of my giant crowd.
Liz Devine Mar 2014
Hey, you
don't ignore me when I speak
I have a voice,
and I'd like you to listen
'Cause I listened to you

Don't step on me,
push my face into the dirt
laugh at me,
pee on me,
kick me when I'm down
I'm here, I'm real
you can't take that away from me

I'm not a vessel
I'm no "host"
for a life that isn't my own
I'm not defined
by my ability to create
it's a blessing,
not a guideline

Just because I can,
Doesn't mean I have to
Just because I do
Doesn't mean I will

Your God's no better than mine,
just because he agrees with you
and he favors your life over mine,
excuse me while I get back in place

This body,
my body, wasn't made
to create, to bare, to endure
it was made, I was made
for choice
for power
for purpose
and no man, policy, or "divine" rite
can take that away.
NewAgeOfAnarchy Nov 2014
Your body is just vessel for your soul, the death of your body is the freedom to your soul.
Soul is free to walk among the living, to watch over their love ones.
©2014 copyright Michael Cross
nate k Nov 2014
she held a
of tantrums against
her face
about a week
ago and it
was disguised
as strings of
sarcasm and wit,
when all she
ever felt was
ashes against
her cheeks, salt
in her eyes, and
a fire within
her heart,
her soul
within the depths
of her never-
(c) nate k. 2014
for the guitar-lessons girl.
loveless May 2016
Everyone have
In their hearts

Vessels of different types
Different shape
Different material
For those vessels
Contain different things inside
Some contain love
Some contain happiness
Some contain dreams
Some contain hate
Some contain anger
Some contain smiles
Some contain pain

I had many vessels
Inside my heart
But two vessels
Were very big
Vessel of love
And vessel of hate

My vessel of love was empty
Most of my life
My love filled that vessel
My vessel of love couldn't contain
So much love she gave me
First love spilled out
But the love was a lot
So the vessel broke
And all the love it had
Filled the core of my heart
Like a sea
I swam in that sea
I drown in that sea
I live in that sea
Along with the angel of my life

My vessel of hate
Was enormous
I filled it with others hate
So whenever I felt hate
I poured it down that vessel
And contained it away from outside
It gradually filled over the years
And now
I can feel
My vessel of hate is full
Many a times
Hate spills out of that vessel
And tries to come out
From those dark depths of my heart
Where it had been sealed little by little
Over the years

What will I do with that hate
Well I've decided to change
Change the vessel of hate
To the vessel of love
And so hate will change to love

The changed vessel will break again
For love can't be contained
And I await that day
Was just thinking too much
Michael Mar 2014
It borders on obsessive —the way my thoughts constantly turn to you. When you sleep there is suddenly a great emptiness I cannot describe nor escape, burrowing its way in; replacing all that you’d filled me with the previous day until I am hollow, and all the...

“I should have said…”
“Did we…?”
“I’d forgotten to…”
“I appreciate you.”
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t…”
and “I’m sorry”s

...come spilling silently from my lips —the things I somehow could not bring myself to tell you while you were awake, patiently waiting for me to fill you up too.
Doy A Oct 2014
Warm thighs
Cold nights
Empty bed
Tears shed
Dry hands
Feet untangled
Messy hair
Lips bare
Nervous sighs
Hungry cries
Skin untouched
Fingers unlaced
Moans unuttered
Thoughts cluttered
Wandering soul
Time slow
So slow
Poetictunes Dec 2015
I am the flower that everyone
picked over.
 No, I am the flower that you stepped on.
I am like the flower blowing in the early hour, Quicken
To be blown away by the pearly showers.
I am the one who sits alone.
Hoping for someone to join.
I am a flower with broken petals
Unsettled and fragile like a broken vessel
Or like a flower
Nestled beneath a trestle.
I love this poem.
emily grace May 2015
maybe my body
is just a vessel
destined to be filled
with the glories of your love

maybe this vessel
has been filled by too many
and the thought of topping it off
with your love
your compassion
scares the hell out of it
ChawzzyScript Feb 2013
This lonely container; used to interact and circumnavigate
the complexities of this earth, of this land, and of this temporary place.
To meet, mesh, mold, and communicate mentally and physically with other
fleshly canisters on this ride, this trip, this journey.

Then emotion is what our essence does, the spirit of us that resides within,
Yearning to unite with the ethereality of another, to bind with their intangible magnitude.
Loneliness connotes desolation, void, and emptiness; the heart weeps longing to fuse,
There is unconscionable comfort in reaching an island in twain, not in singularity.

Though these receptacles oft give us fleeting tastes of satisfaction,
It is yet impermanent and fulfills the hasty need of our lust in the interim.
Yet when we make exquisite LOVE to one another,
Our vessels dance whilst our souls provide the music, the dance floor, and the ambience.

We were made to be together,
And I love our fit.

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