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Take my hand
hold on through the quicksand
of my expressed agony
for I’m trying to bring us past the vanity
and the demonic hailings I paint
can as swiftly change to angels sailing past the hate
my words can take you from a pearless white night
with only the moon in sight
then twist that light back to
the sun’s beaming might
surround you in a blizzard
with imagery so vivid
it cuts through the snow
like a rock in a rivers flow
bring you from the crumbles of earthly ruins
to the humble pearly white gates of heavenly viewings
invoke you in anger & apathy
a firery rage bellowing
until you hear a fazed echoeing
pulling you from the depths of mind
to the paradise I envisioned for
mankind
corrupt you with illness of doubtful hate
then present a panacea of a
hopeful fate

I know I’m just a man,
but take my hand
and I’ll show to your there’s more to us than a monotonous plan
Cody Smith Oct 21
A cry for help is a cause for alarm.
Self harm carves tales in pale arms.
Scars form like lines scored in old boards
and tree bark, graffiti of hearts broke in the park.
tattoos use ink. A penknife will ooze blood into sinks.

Introspection is a writhing vivisection.
cutting deep, fists clench and twist
bending ribs with wrenching wrists.
Rending bars apart the cradle that cribs the heart

that drums a beat like bells that rung your death knell
from the first to last breath your lungs have expelled.
A tongue to tell and eyes to see, a mind to be,
a heart to feel.
Vivid Vivisection,
It hurts to heal.
Ominous May 2015
She was like the forest
cold & whispering your name
by the wind
although her depths were
something that
only the bravest ones
ever dared to appreciate
she became so rainy & tempestuous
for she couldn't truly feel herself
she felt as cold as winter &
then she took her last breath
and with your name on her
flying leaves & thick branches
she ripped herself apart
then there was a river
a crimson flow
so risky to approach
yet beautifully tempting
and those who once
came by to appreciate her beauty &
her vivid deep green
were now so scared of her that
they thought she wanted to swallow 'em whole
how could ever she?
she had ripped herself apart
only to see & feel
her own depths
which once she believed
were way too shallow
for someone to enjoy being
around her
but now
how could someone ever
enjoy being around
a dead forest?
she died, but at least
with no doubt
that once
she was alive &
deep.
(whatever it takes to feel alive
whatever it takes to feel whole
whatever it takes to feel deeply
even if it takes your own life away)
Glass May 19
the crystal faith you praise
is fractured with dysphoria
that two years from now you won't be able to distinguish my beauty
and we'll fall apart into
a open concept of bigger questions (hydroxide pause) and then my scenery
will be vivid and fluently spoken towards repeated
images and small - town secrets
of surprise but tomorrow isn't sunny,
the damage
has already begun

- G
For those who already don't know my poetry is published on Border Grey Magazine. Please Check it out! http://greybordersmagazine.jigsy.com/issues
Najla Aug 26
I woke up
in the middle of the morning,
and I was six years older

Every inch of me
was yearning for its
                         doom

A broken voice,
crooked smile,
and raw scars

I closed my eyes,
and now,
I’m no longer here
Begin the beguilement
Under neon banners
The clouded sentiment
Of pious tanners
The teardrop streets
Country potions
Here, sleep cuts deep
Through lonesome commotion

You hear before you
The furrowed wind
Marches in blue
With knotted fins
Walls of turquoise
A bygone room
Rose-headed boys
And marquee tombs

Jaded headmaster
Writes on alabaster
A careful brass scope
On the charms of their hope
Slung on a wire
Sauntering squire
Singing of pain
Through a barbed-wire mane
Meruem Dec 2018
When this timeline is hit,
And the timeclock ticks,
You'll hear those engines clink,
And I'll re-arrange all of this.

Better charge the portal gun,
Get buckled up on the Space Cruiser.
"Wubba Lubba Dub Dub!!"
Let's get out of this universe, Rick.
December 12, 2018 - 01:04

I hope by the time I hit 70, Elon Musk have invented time machines, or I'll be able to go with Rick and travel the multiverse.

Ps. It's more than just Rick's stupid nonsense catchphrase..
Vivid demise guides
Me; can anyone hear me?
Why won't you save me?

What numbs me worthless,
The vast veer of intention,
Why won't it take me?

Evolve existence,
Into inaudible cries
For mental relief-
I've been working on long poems, with these stories, I kinda just wanted to make something small, but with a bigger meaning. I hope I did that in this one.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
JJRKelly Aug 7
No
song because
These are the kind of words
That no one sings.
This is a theme
we shouldn't repeat.
What we have is
Just a passing moment
Only a short poem
I hope you never see.

No.
There's nothing beautiful about this
Nothing beautiful about sin..
But you make it look so heavenly.
Tainted so my broken heart bleeds
Symphonies in every beat.

My
Every word's a sword.
Is it suicide then
When I tattoo myself with my pen;
Write my pain into permanence.
My late nights spent stuck in bed;
Yearning for a warmth that you never send.
I watch the coming dawn from the safety
Of my covers I-I-I'm tired from a sleepless night.
Happy that None can see me cry when the sunrise greets the new days sky
And I'm not feeling right
Cause I been left alone
To face a world
unknown

But
If I called you'd answer right?
If I text you when the moon's high,
And the darkness has settled,
And my mind meddles
With the idea of you,
You'd reply right?

If
I told you I need you…
Is that too desperate?
Rhetorical question
But I understand your objections
Of who I am.
For I now know
Know why the caged bird sang...
And why he fell silent.
Jim Musics May 17
It is such a vivid mystery
a flowing constant change
It would be somewhat scary
but for your perceptive soul

Soured smooth vivid mystery
A flowing eternity
A stranger who is somewhat scary
Smooth-sailing journey.

Why is this dream still so vivid
And displaying in my night brain
Over and again over decades.
In a surreal setting that melds Times Square and The Grand Concourse.
With buildings mostly dark
Street lights reflecting off shiny pavement
and sidewalks
I walk in the empty streets
I'm alone on the night streets
'Glad of that, 'don't want a dangerous stranger lurking

My legs are strong yet tired, but I have plenty left
My legs are my greatest physical asset, for better or worse.
I don't know where I'm headed
But I want to be there, 'keep walking at a good pace.

Dusty aired steep shadow
Shoes heavy reigned
The empty place in
Time to search my night brain again
Ponder the walks behind my shoulder

Vivid with gushing candour.
I came home just when it started to pour
Timely shaken feet
Shifting close by the livid door.

Waking with the dream fresh and clear
As is the air, (it rained so hard last night)
Out with me goes my dog, to be
Among the clear crystal voiced Thrushes
In their Woods, which is theirs for this half of the year
I wonder what they say
I know they've never sung in Times Square
They're not singing of those smallest white violets
That grow in the wet
With their tiny purple lines on their bottom inner petals
Or about me
Or Sam
But probably about each other
About how lovely their songs are
How good they'd be together
Not about the crescent moon
Or about where I didn't know where I was going

I don't need to know their mystery
Or how the violets grow in the same place every Spring
After being under feet of snow and inches of ice
For the other half a year

Is this the other side of the dream?
The dream?
How do you know to say it differently?
Better? Vividly?
Joyfully co-authored with Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
https://hellopoetry.com/DarjeelingT/
Timothy Feb 2017
Frost all glimmering . . .
From dawn's bright vivid colours
. . . Vibrant jewel'd lawn.
© Timothy 4 February 2017
It is such a vivid mystery
a flowing constant change
It would be somewhat scary
but for your perceptive soul

Soured smooth vivid mystery
A flowing eternity
A stranger who is somewhat scary
Smooth-sailing journey.

Why is this dream still so vivid
And displaying in my night brain
Over and again over decades.
In a surreal setting that melds Times Square and The Grand Concourse.
With buildings mostly dark
Street lights reflecting off shiny pavement
and sidewalks
I walk in the empty streets
I'm alone on the night streets
'Glad of that, 'don't want a dangerous stranger lurking

My legs are strong yet tired, but I have plenty left
My legs are my greatest physical asset, for better or worse.
I don't know where I'm headed
But I want to be there, 'keep walking at a good pace.

Dusty aired steep shadow
Shoes heavy reigned
The empty place in
Time to search my night brain again
Ponder the walks behind my shoulder

Vivid with gushing candour.
I came home just when it started to pour
Timely shaken feet
Shifting close by the livid door.

Waking with the dream fresh and clear
As is the air, (it rained so hard last night)
Out with me goes my dog, to be
Among the clear crystal voiced Thrushes
In their Woods, which is theirs for this half of the year
I wonder what they say
I know they've never sung in Times Square
They're not singing of those smallest white violets
That grow in the wet
With their tiny purple lines on their bottom inner petals
Or about me
Or Sam
But probably about each other
About how lovely their songs are
How good they'd be together
Not about the crescent moon
Or about where I didn't know where I was going

I don't need to know their mystery
Or how the violets grow in the same place every Spring
After being under feet of snow and inches of ice
For the other half a year

Is this the other side of the dream?
The dream?
How do you know to say it differently?
Better? Vividly?
This poem is written by Jim Musics and Teri D. B. Yeo.

It was inspiring to co-write with a writer of teeming experience and life which really spill onto the page. Such an honour and delight!
Jake Mar 29
Months go by and it feels like a slideshow
Terrible nightmare that Sets a new low
I can’t escape it and all I truly want
Is to wake up and find you right beside me
At least we say hi to each other
spring's vivid carnival shall soon prevail
she'll be frocked up in the brightest attire
her floral shades so striking of detail

gardens being clad by stunning avail
flowers displaying such a colourful shire
spring's vivid carnival shall soon prevail

every aspect of the rainbow there to sail
glorious blooms that we can admire
her floral shades so striking of detail

the wow factor e'er  innate in her trail
a seasonal dressing of which we'll not tire
spring's vivid carnival shall soon prevail

great visuals she'll pleasingly nail  
on painting in a sensational palettes fire
her floral shades so striking of detail

seeing what the fashion will entail
we'll be gobsmacked with its garb's quire
spring's vivid carnival shall soon prevail
her floral shades so striking of detail
nosipho khanyile Jul 2018
vivid after sunset,
my thoughts manifest
from energies that surround me.

tangled after sunset,
as I process my technicolours
into somthing society will accept.

but sometimes
there are no words for my thoughts..
With this pen, I paint an image of you.
Not a portrait, but a true portrayal of you.
The ink flows into words that dance across your hair.
The end of each sentence marking a cross that you bear.

A painting would be suitable for some.
With beautiful colors, cascading down on you from above.
But, those colors mearly hide the truth behind your smile.
With the right shade of light and a light smear, it becomes a cosmetic fix for a while.

My words flow through every crack and fill every shadow.
They bring all light to the surface, for the reader to see within the shallows.

The image of you that I create can be vivid and great.
But with this pen, my words can also design your fate.

You see the truth here is that my words hold all truth.
They leave no place for lies to hide, with each word holding proof.

In the readers eyes, my words are you…
With this pen, I can create you…
With this pen, I can finish you...

- Brandon K. Stephenson
The underestimated writer and the power within his pen.
I had a dream
but this wasn't the typical
awake and forget dream
I remember everything
and as people in the dream were reacting
I knew exactly why
I knew their motives
their plan
It involved a military style evacuation
of a large office building
appeared to be the Middle East
I entered the building and walked through a long corridor
I came to a family of 5 or 6 that were standing at a side exit
afraid to leave. They finally exited and I saw what they feared...
a man who appeared to be American with a rifle about 20 yards ahead on a hill looking at them. He let them leave. I lied to him as I thought he might **** me since I wasn't quite sure who I was in this dream...who's side I was on
It concerned my Grandfather
he had asked me what day I was born
and the alcohol of choice at my birth
I replied that there was no alcohol due to the fact
that my Grandfather died from alcohol poisoning
In fact, my Grandfather died of pneumonia and refused to
take alcohol to help his condition. Why did I lie? How did the lie help?
Instead of killing me, we became friends and took a walk
we came upon a large home with a number of people
sitting on the porch
Two young teenagers, totally out of place began chatting about
an American cd they had purchased
The boy had buzzed blonde hair and a blue eagle tattooed
on his cheek
The female looked very close to his age and chatted non-stop
about her cd
An older female with long dark hair in a long dark dress pulled a rifle from under her side as she was laying on a bench or possibly the ground and pointed it at my friend
Not sure why they let me leave, but I told him I would return...
end of dream
the entire time I knew I was in a dream and reacted as I would, thought as I would and felt as if I was viewing the entire dream through a pair of VR glasses...or was it a dream?

any ideas?
this was not my typical dream...and I dream a lot as I try very hard not to ingest flouride which dismantles the pineal gland...or 3rd eye. This was so f'n real, I cannot begin to explain. Might have to go under hypnosis to dig deeper into this. I have an idea...but I want to hear yours first.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
When I was just a child I went searching for my world,
one of sunlit days, adventure and beauty left unfurled.
Though these days were made to be the a key to set me free
I couldn’t have foreseen the cost that all of this would be.

As I look back on these memories I hoped to have it all,
I believed that love would listen and come answering my call.
I was certain love would find me as I filled my life with song.
Now I’d turn in all these moments for just the promise to belong.

At Oktoberfest with beer halls and the sound of German songs.
The mix of beer and smells of nuts floating through the noisy throngs.
Climbing  on the Untersberg up on Alpines mystic peaks
and attending cocktail parties with Gemany’s elite.

Climbing falls in Ocho Rios with some old and new found friends,
drinking coffee, eating lobster, and enjoying without end.
Driving through the darkened backroads from a day at Negril’s beach,
in a cab with songs of love and Marley counting down the beat.  

In Cancun lagoons were vivid and alive with swarming life,
seas of sergeant majors, parrotfish, and barracuda thrive.
in the Caymans packs of stingrays had become our closest friends,
as we played among them in  a world where the beauty never ends.

The fireworks over Sydney lit the bicentennial sky
while I look upon that moment now with disbelieving eyes.
Waves from the Prince of England as he sat by princess Di
when I left the land down under, well I felt like I would die.

As I watched the sun go down over Uluru’s gold peak,
and the sun rise over Daintree as we picked our morning feast.
digging oysters off the rocks by Nelligan’s foreshores,
I was certain with my best friend that I couldn’t want for more.

Remembering the ocean as I snorkeled though it brief,
in Queensland off the shore on Australia’s barrier reef.
The beauty in Belize nearly took my breath away,
and it seemed to me that God had made this gorgeous land to play.

Camping in the South Pacific beneath the skies and palms.
In the hills of South Dakota we went panning in the calm.
With the Eiffel tower, Louvre and Twilleries rounding out another day
And the visit to the gardens of Monet just made me cry.

It’s surreal to think of all the things I’ve done throughout this life,
and the blessings that I’ve gotten seem enough to make things right.
But the simplest adventure and the one I longed for most
was a man that I could count on and would love and hold me close.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Derrek Faraday Dec 2018
Rattle on
And do so backwards
In the insular hole
Strangle lo’
To and fro, in herds
Build for me a pole

Wail along
And do so sweetly
In my crooked glyphs
Sail strong
To lands discreetly
A flintlock at your hip

Walk across
And do so sideways
In a tiled oasis
Count the cost,
To hands that play
Deal out epistasis

Swim away
And do so upwards
In a veiled monsoon
Drown the day
To Carinae
Seek its vagrant moon
DivineDao Jun 2016
~

phenomenal loving
chivalry steps
  cherry blossoms


   adorable bow
kneeling in love
  taming desire


   you're more
vivid in versatile
  expressive way


  charming smiles
comfortable warmth
  creative galant galore



~
exceeding common sense poetry you conjure love story and transform it into a geniune poem: numinous sensual and tangible
Aztec Centeno Sep 2018
Vivid are the unfamiliar faces,
The trees on the sidewalk.
And time itself was slowed
As we shared a laugh on a busy road.

Vivid is the sunlight
That graced your cheek.
A golden aura of mystique
Grew more alluring as you speak.

Vivid are your warm words
That shield me from despair.
Forged through the fires you ignited
As we were deeply united.

Vivid is that autumn morning,
When we woke in each other's arms.
And I cast my anchor aweigh:
Your love is a price I'm willing to pay.
Things I want to say to you but could not think of all at the same time.
Tanya Feb 11
She had returned from her journey,
radiating bright, vivid
light.

Feeling better than ever.
Blooming.

Small minds
couldn’t handle
her flowers.
but the sun garden was hers to handle anyways .
lX0st Jul 2014
XO
I feel so bloated
When I think of you
Like I've swallowed a hundred pills
To forget your silhouette
Against the moonlight
And the perfect edge
Of your sculpted jawline
And the contours of your chest
That move with your ragged breath
And your very strong hands
That are oddly so gentle.
It's almost like I can hear you
Whispering my name
Or feel your arm
Gripping my waist.
These images are so vivid
Why aren’t you here
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