Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
qi Feb 2015
load your bullets
in the firing chamber
and they'll fly
from your lips,
ricochet and lodge
past the scarce armor
of my ribcage
into this glass heart of mine
     let my insecurities bleed out
                         don't staunch the flow


pierce my skin
with the shards of my heart
end my misery,
squeeze the trigger
with practiced ease
     breathe in,
          breathe out
               breathe in,
                    breathe out


                             *(you'll find another victim
                              downrange of you)
find someone else for target practice, *******.
Justin Griego Jun 2011
I don't write lyrics, but I do have flow
I don't write music, but I do have soul
I'm not an artist, but a picture I'll paint
  Sistine Chapel leaves you thinking I'm a saint
I don't play sports, but I do play minds
I'm not a catcher, but I still show signs
I'm not a racer, but I still cross lines

I'm not a witch, but I'll still cast doom
Not the undertaker, but I'll set up your tomb
Not a fortune teller, but I can spell your demise
I'm not a magician, but I can see your surprise
I'm not a gardener, but I can plant you in the ground
I'm not a devil, but hellish is my sound
  Demons in the room have come to stomp you down

I flow freely, 'cuz I'm a bad-*** poet
But I'm not all bad. Here, let me show it
I can make your heart beat to the sound of my melody
  Make you love-sick; I'm sorry, there is no remedy
I'm like soldiers in the dirt, always brave
I'm strong, and I'm bold, and I'm a slight knave
Always protecting innocence with the tip of a glaive
*  Now this time I must remember to hit save
Another Insomniac Poem
larry Jun 2018
Everything that exists now will slowly fade within seconds its as if everyone was holding different weapons because there was a gun my sanity is done sending bullets to my brain,  I feel like I'm going insane because of these weapons now everybody feels threatened  slowly causing the world to divide ,time passes by and there still guns why does this all happen ?  your words will never turn into reality slowly increasing deaths as the day's pass, this world only revolves around the economic class. schools are meant to be a safe haven for teens but because of these weapons, they grow up with a shadow consuming their hearts, creating a world that survives off of false hope
Mary Edith May 2
Sometimes I forget
That my words can be used as weapons
Until they’re already sailing toward their target
Ready to explode upon impact
Copycat, collect the nectar,
it will optimize your splendor.
Grasping it by the gallons,
drinking poison, immune, callous,
to the pain you aligned, and profusely measured.

Fixated on this peeling label,
bend it back, are you able,
To contain symptoms as they surface?
Written down as toxic in cursive,
a sign of recovery crowned as 'fatal'

Copycat, take your weapons,
along the speckled crimson as logical 'sessions'.
Brim the shell, or remain hollow?
Graphic truth is hard to swallow,
unseen pain is being reflected-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
I wanted to do some form of rhyming, but the emotion had to stay so I know the poem is a little odd.
Cné Aug 2015
Silently I cry hoping no one hears
Secretly caring for another in love's affairs
Experiencing love's worst of weapons
Heartbreak ominously beckons

Silently tears fall as I lie alone
On the bathroom floor unbeknown
For there are no more words, no more lies
Only a silent tear that never dries

Silently I cry with images of his face
Dimpled cheeks, his kiss and warm embrace
Hopelessness ensues for the way he held me tight
Remembering he's with her tonight

I lay in bed at night beside the one I'm bound
Holding my breath as tears compound
Feeling the love I once gave and then knew
All the while he's with someone new

Silently shedding tears as my life takes its toll
Killing my very essence, my mind, body and soul
Hearing the words, feeling the crippling pain
A lover's secret inevitably ends in vain
Jeff S Sep 2018
an arid earth can suffer to gag
through the suffocation of its tenants,
flailing with torrential—cataclysmic—seismic
limbs at the cold-hand smothering by
a race in apathy.

though, let's not just yet, not yet
pull the bullets from our guns.
English Jam May 2018
Boredom on a Sunday is inescapable
I try to hide it behind playing my musical instrument
Trumpeting with my trumpet - blowing my own horn -
I'm praying no one interprets that last sentence as an innuendo
Anyway, I'm nodding off, signing out of reality
The world goes hazy in a second
And I'm ****** into the vortex of a dream

Weird how when a dream begins, we immediately understand the situation
For this scene, I'm spewing blood from my spleen like a bottle of sauce squeezed too hard
It stains the leather of my vehicle
My foot is pressing the pedal to the floor, and the speedometer is twinged in half from all the pressure
The monolith of a highway I'm speeding on shakes as though giants stomp upon it
And the wail of a siren drives me into a frenzy as I try to escape the inevitable
Their polychromatic lights dance at the edges of my eyes, spurring rhythm into action
Even though they must be aeons behind, my heart melodramatically pumps in my chest as though the police are in the backseat
Blood bursting through my temple, thoughts wheezing by like someone's let go of hundreds of balloons  
Up ahead, the road twists itself into a knot of nothingness
My hands are wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly, I fear I might never be able to release them
It's a slight movement: right hand goes down, left goes up, but it kicks the vehicle sideways
My body slams into the car with a satisfying crunch and my mind spirals to spaghetti strands
Oddly enough, the world becomes rinsed with blue wash and I'm underwater

My train of thought becomes peaceful, melodic
I float about, running on the inverse of the waves
Here, even a scream is joyous as it sounds all bubbly and childish
Suddenly, a red streak runs across the ocean, chilling me to the bone and erasing all my bubbles
The sea becomes glittered with red and blue streaks, a warning
Bullets stab at my spleen, reminding me of the pain that was, and still is
And my body gears into a full 360, concluding my return to the real world
Or is it the dream world?
Oh well
Either way, I'm back in my car
Carelessly freefalling from nowhere
Weapons, glass, blood droplets, pocket change, pedestrians...all breeze around slowly
Pleading with me to wake up
Then

Everything crumbles, and I smack my **** head against the window, splattering my brains everywhere
My car flew from the sudden turn and I crashed, I think
Now I lay, grasping onto consciousness while pedagogues staple me to the ground
The Lawman towers over me, grinning madly at my defeat
The most barbaric insult, however, comes from the radio, still magically working
"I fought the law and the law won," The Clash idly sing
One of my favourite songs turned into dark irony
The last I remember before blacking out is the scarlet and marine lights clashing forevermore

When I wake up, I'm face-down on the stony and icy floor
The cold burns me enough to wake me from la la land
The iron grip of the handcuffs feels very real
Words are forced into my head, not by my own design, but sort of like they've been placed there
An argument as to whether existence has a meaning is taking place in my head, and I can't stop it
Sort of like how in a dream, you can't control your thoughts or actions
Wait
This is still a dream, right?
Right?
My palms are growing wet
Sweat has covered my trigger
Night and day in enemies nest
Operating like battalions of mere singers.

I fight 21st century with 20th century bullet
Blood on my face, wounds yielding deeper
In shattered body my brethren in uniform rest
Unjust funding makes our defence wall weaker.

Father, I am in a wilderness fighting a shapeless war
No back ups, no one is watching out for our fall
Like we are dying for those who don't care about us
Our enemies are in golden armor while we ride on horse.

Mother, did the demise of my gun brothers makes the headlines?
I heard the 'next level' was lunched on that day
And my superiors disown us to dine at the front line
Well, don't cry yet, I'm still alive at least for today.  

Oh, my palms are wet and my hopes like a thread
My eyes shed more tears than the blood my gun sheds
We are too weak to keep pulling these triggers
Aso Rock, upgrade us now or take us home to our fathers.
Dedicated to the over 70 soldiers killed in northern Nigeria by Bokoharam Terrorists in November, 2018.
Ira Aug 2018
Demon Fang and angels wing,
All those below them are to be taunted with string,
They are of the most powerful beings.


Before the Satan and the God,
The seven representatives of each are to be awed.

For David,
He has his son,
Ira, The Sin of Wrath.

For Jesus,
He has his daughter,
Phi, The Virtue of Hope.

Under Wrath,
He has,
Pride,
Lust,
Gluttony,
Greed,
Envy,
Sloth,
And his Trainee,
Vainglory.

Under Hope,
She has,
Faith,
Chastity,
Fortitude,
Justice,
Temperance,
Prudence,
S­he is yet to have a trainee,
But many believe she hopes for it not to be.

Of demon and angel,
Hellspawn is the strongest when all laid out on the table.


As angels use weapons and craft there armor,
Demons fight with magic and fist,
Along with taking hits like common fodder.

Of demon fang and angel wing,
Hellspawn and Human Reflections,
They are opposing each other constantly,
And are the balancing act of reality.
Ehhh... Would Improve but I like it the way it is.
Feeding the earth,
            -Blood!
Feeding the sand,
           -Blood!
Feeding the oceans,
           -Blood!
Falling from skies,
           -Blood!

The soldiers...are left to rot!


Weapons of war
       men of war
                        soldiers at war,

LEFT TO ROT!
SOLDIERS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!


Weapons of war
       men of war
                        soldiers at war,

LEFT TO ROT!
SOLDIERS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!
Relics of war are left to rot!
LEFT TO ROT!


Feeding the earth,
   -weapons of war!
Bleeding in sands,
         -men of war!
Feeding the oceans,
               -left to rot!

Weapons of war,
           -feed the earth!
Men of war,
           -bleed in sands!
Soldiers of war fall to earth!

SOLDIERS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!
RELICS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!

<musical break>


Weapons of war
       men of war
                        soldiers at war,

LEFT TO ROT!
SOLDIERS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!
RELICS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!


RELICS OF WAR LEFT TO ROT!
Death metal song lyrics.
july hearne Oct 2018
mighty mighty miners  
mining for a heart of cryptocurrency  
mighty mighty houses  
might end up empty  

for fake fortune  
your drop of wine  
your speck of grain  
for fake fortune  

nec·ro·man·cers quick with answers
will you be their broke financiers  
will you be their paraplegic dancers  

you've got nothing to lose  
just a shield of children  
wielding weapons  
no one knows how to use  

mighty mighty miners  
mine on empty  
too much vacancy  
in a heart of cryptocurrency  

all one person  
all one horsemen  
all fake fortune  
all one horsemen  

wish NPC weren't too dumb to understand
mighty mighty houses built upon sand
because every time jeff eats an iguana,  
he's got the whole free market in his hands.
*Roky Erickson - I Think of Demons

Micah 2:2
They covet fields and seize them, and houses, and take them. They defraud people of their homes, they rob them of their inheritance.



ISAIAH 5:8 (MSG Version)
"Doom to you who buy up all the houses and grab all the land for yourselves— Evicting the old owners, posting no trespassing signs, Taking over the country, leaving everyone homeless and landless. I overheard God-of-the-Angel-Armies say: “Those mighty houses will end up empty. Those extravagant estates will be deserted. A ten-acre vineyard will produce a pint of wine, a fifty-pound sack of seed, a quart of grain.
There was a tiny tea light somewhat hid and tucked away
Was lost; To be forgotten in dark corners of my brain
The other day you called me breathing into it new life
A weak and dying flame now once again stood strong and bright

Tried quelling it with reason; Doused with plenty rationale
No matter what I threw at it would not leave or dispel
Use thoughts as tools or weapons; They are thrown out by the mind
Attempting to slice through the bonds to flame the heart did bind

But no where in my cognition is something quite that tough
In any way could **** that flame or from these bonds be cut
This statement even would be true the weakest of its days
But as I'm talking to you with each word you fan the flame

Was living out a lie and yet was unbeknownst to me
I thought my love for you could die if left and just let be
However, now I know too well this lasting present truth
My eyes saw you and ever since, I've been in love with you
Written: October 23, 2018

All rights reserved.
[Iambic Heptameter format]
kindness eats
least of all we defeat our enemies cheaply
steep the leaves in hot water gently
keep enemies close to you and weapons even closer
our friends are sunbeams
jump in the water
your sun-burned back is peeling
out loud you reminded me
not to bend down too quickly
he hounds me with his questions
lessons on arithmetic
I’m so sick of it
histrionics and sonic lectures
his tricks are onto it
moronic manic accidents
red lions with long necks
deflect authority and wager on credit
the outcomes are certain
all will fade away indefinitely
understand this and measure your life by breaths and not complexity
densities are hiding in visionary lightning
finding new capacities every moment
i am swift
limitless beauty
refulgent emulsion
immersed in water and poetry
under highest authority
or higher security
under heightened scrutiny
all is being watched
as judges redefine your beauty
if you are truly interested in finding happiness
you must understand
that all magic is abraxas
satisfaction attacks this
as we collapse upon ecstatic languages
JV Beaupre May 2016
I. Long ago and far away...

Under the bridge across the Kankakee River, Grampa found me. I was busted for truancy. First grade. 1946.

Coming home from college for Christmas. Oops, my family moved a few streets over and forgot to tell me. Peoria, 1961.

The Pabst Brewery lunchroom in Peoria, a little after dawn, "Who wants my sandwich? ****, this first beer tastes good." I won't tell you what he really said. 1962.

At grad school, when we moved into the basement with the octopus furnace, Dave, my roommate contributed a case of Chef Boyardee spaghettio's and I brought 3 cases of beer, PBRs.  Supper for a month.1962.

Sharon and I were making out in the afternoon, clothes a jumble. Walter Cronkite said, " President Kennedy has been shot…” 1963.

I stood in line, in my shorts, waiting for the clap-check. The corporal shouted:  "All right, you *******, Uncle and the Republic of Viet Nam want your sorry *****. Drop 'em".  Deferred, 1964.

He electrified the room. Every woman in the room, regardless of age, wanted him, or seemed to. The atmosphere was primeval and dripping with desire. In the presence of greatness, 1968.

US science jobs  dried up. From a mountain-top, beery conversation, I got a research job in Germany. Boulder, 1968.

The first time I saw automatic weapons at an airport. Geneva, 1970.

I toasted Rembrandt with sparkling wine at the Rijksmuseum. He said nothing. 1972.

A little drunk, but sobering fast: the guard had Khrushchev teeth.
Midnight, alone, locked in a room at the border, why?
Hours later, release. East Berlin, 1973.

She said, "You know it's remarkable that we're not having an affair." No, it wasn't. George's wife.  Germany, 1973.

I said, "May be there really are quarks, but if so, we'll never see them." Truer than I knew.  Exit to Huntsville, 1974.

II. In the present century....

And what have I learned? Here's advice for the next ones: On your desk, keep a coffee cup marked, "No Whining", that side out. Final retirement. 2015.

I quietly admired a Rembrandt portrait at the Schiphol airport. Ever inscrutable, his painting had presence, even as the bomb dogs sniffed by. Beagles. 2006.

I’ve lost two close friends that I’ve known for 50-odd years. There aren’t many more. Huntsville. 2008 and 2011.

I started painting. Old barns and such. 2004.

I occasionally kick myself for not staying with physics—I’m jealous of friends that did. But I moved on, and came back. There is still problem 12-19 in Becker's mechanics and it still needs solving. 2016 and continuing.

Honest distortions emerging from the distance of time. The thin comfort of fading memories. Thoughts on poor decisions and worse outcomes. Not often, but every now and then.
Vicki Kralapp Mar 2018
What’s more important, a gun or a life,
a religion, belief, or a child?

Our focus is lost, on extremes that have cost,
us the lives of the many defiled.

Weapons, religion, and money, we’ve made,
give us power to help or defend.

But the weapons we’ve made, and the choices they gave,
became blood of the many that died.

Religions of earth still dividing our world,
were created for souls to be fed.

And money and gold, here to help, we’ve been told,
made us greedy and haughty instead.

We forget that mankind is much greater than these,
calling us to refocus our hearts.

For these can be solved with one law you recall,
that encompasses all of mankind.

Mankind: our brother, our sister, our mother,
remember, that we all are one.

Let me ask this again, what’s important to men:
a child, a belief or a gun?
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Crow Sep 2018
the dark approaches as if it is an ineluctable storm
created by thoughts falling like dominoes

or explodes into existence in a breath
detonated by a word innocently spoken

an eclipse constructed of your fears
like locusts eating all the light

with hooks and claws they grasp the air
pulling it up from your lungs

fighting blind against attacks from every side
weapons fall from your trembling grasp

I still see you dimly, enveloped in despair
you no longer see me at all

I have become a phantom, intangible
dispersed into powerless anguish by your terror

my voice is only a murmur to you
a far-off echo, indistinct

defenses and barriers you have labored on
transform into spun glass latticework

shattering through them without knowing
shards left embedded in your skin

stumbling blindly in the darkness
you are swallowed whole into the void

once more you are ripped away
imprisoned in the Stygian, pitiless hole

the emptiness turns its gaze to me
mocking laughter blisters my flesh

I can only wait and call to you
how long till you return

to me
Q Dec 2016
People look for the fountain of youth
But I am a fountain of words

I wield them like weapons
They slip from my grip
I spend them like bills
They steep me in wealth
I tuck them in my pockets
They spill from my lips
I give them as gifts
They stick in my teeth
I kiss them on cheeks
They slide down my throat
I stack them on shelves
They pile at my feet
I pack them in boxes
They stain my sheets
I burn them to ashes
They pow-

I hope you get it because
This **** is endless and
I forgot where I was going with this
Friend A Jul 2018
1 . Die, all of you.

2. Flip her skirt up.

3. Let everyone be happy.

4. Bring the most righteous person back to life.

5. Bring back everyone who died.

6. I want eternal life and youth!

7. Confidence.

8. I want to stop being a warrior.

9. I want more talent.

10. A harem, of course!

11. Disappear, all of you.

12. Expand my power to one thousand paths.

13. Money! Money!

14. I want to be friends with everyone in the world.

15. Rule the world!
Ruling the world is hard.

16. I want a girlfriend!
But would that really be love?

17. I want wisdom.
Foolishness makes you who you are.

18. I want to know the future.
But what fun would be living then?

19. I want to be a pro baseball player.
But you would have to work out every day then.

20. Telekinesis.
Then why I have hands?

21. I want to fly.
Then why I have feet?

22. I want to speak all languages.
You don't like to talk anyway (RELATABLE).

23. I want an X-ray vision.
That would lead to misunderstandings.

24. I wish for an end to war.
But it won't end exploitation.

25.I want to climb mount Everest.
But you would have only yourself to rely on.

26. I want a smartphone that can't run out of battery.
It would last only a few years still.

27. I want to pilot a giant robot!
What you would be fighting?

28. To never stub my toe again.
Why not just watch where you walk?

29.I want a cool supercar.
It won't feel the same if you don't buy it yourself.

30. I wish everyday could be Sunday.
Go to work on Sunday?

31. I want to be a bird.
Being a human is much better.

32. I want to read people's minds.
You would start to distrusting people.

33. The ability to wake up early.
But you would just go back to sleep. (Totally relatable)

34. I want to enter a manga.
What if you couldn't get out?

35. I want to be invisible.
You are already invisible in the classroom (that hurts, you know).

36. I want to not feel pain.
That's dangerous.

37. I want that rare book.
It's only rare because no one else have it.

38. I want that limited edition item.
Would it still be limited edition then?

39. I want a best friend.
What if they knew you were friends only because of a wish?

40. I want to be a great man.
That greatness wouldn't last.

41. I want to talk to animals
They probably don't have much to say.

42. I want to travel the world.
It's likely harder than it sounds.

43. I want to live in a mansion
All by yourself?

44. I want a fighter plane
Where would you park it?

45. I want to play all instruments!
But buying them all would be expensive.

46. I want to see a ghost!
Like hell you do!

47. I want to meet a great person from the past
But they would have a lot of lectures for a modern person.

48. I want my dormant power awakened!
What if you don't have any?

50. I want power to stop time!
That's like saying you want a power to commit crime.

51. I want better penmanship.
In digital era?

52. I want to meet an elf
In this day and age?

53. I want youth.
What do you think you have now?

55. I want an eye that sees long distances.
You mean like a third eye?

57. I want to hire a maid.
Just go to cafe.

58. I want to be a manga artist.
Answer one of the Young Jump recruiting postings.

60. I want to live in a deserted island!
You would probably want to leave it right away.

61. I want a time machine!
Do you have an idea how to get energy to power it?

62. I want to be free of stress.
You need stress to grow.

63. I want world peace.
Would you still exist in a peaceful world?

64. I want a loving family.
But artificial one?

65. I want to eat the world's most delicious food.
But you want to eat cup ramen too.

66. I want to go to amusement park
What are you, a girl raised to be a living weapon? (This is surely an allusion to something, I just can't get what)

67. I want to be on the front page of a newspaper!
Are you going to commit a crime or what?

77. I want to be a cyborg.
Who would repair you if you broke?

78. I want an art collection.
You don't even like that stuff. Don't pretend to be an intellectual.

79. I want to buy a penguin.
Can you even take care of an animal?

80. I want to talk to famous people.
About what? Any subject in mind?

82. A world free of evil people.
What would be left?

83. I want to be taller.
And then you would want to be shorter again.

84. I want courage.
What are you, a lion?

86. I want prestige.
Unearned prestige?

87. I want to never be late for a bus.
But then the buses would be late.

88. I want to be the strongest in world.
Why, so you can bully the weak?

89. I want to invent something amazing.
All inventions ultimately become weapons.

90.I want to film a movie.
You would bring down any set you were on.

91. I want to be someone who will never lose again.
The moment you wish for this, you become an eternal loser.

92.I want to become a master swordsman.
Dishonestly?

96. I want to learn the truth of the world.
No, you don't.

97. I wish misfortune on people I hate.
Wishing misfortune on others is a ****** thing to do.

98. To grant your wish instead.
Cancel that immediately.

99. I want to turn my wish into 100 wishes.

100. Let me forget
zebra Aug 2018
i was told not to read that book
it said right there on the cover
that if i did
i would become a scourge
like a hidden genies dagger
the sight of which would terrorize some
and draw others to me
those strange few
who cry to feel it wound their flesh
and crave its rupturing cold edge
an obsession in motion
demanding they lose themselves in the rapture
of dangerous weapons of pleasure and pain
their kiss an obscenity

sure i thought

and as i read it anyway
it's words  
where like a cocked gun blasting
a slow-motion bullet
like a bomb in the skull  
shattering brains
with a storm of licking tongues
and kicking feet

my death scattered me
into a great light that casts a long shadow
of headless prancing nymphs
their menstruum,
kaleidoscopic winding red ribbons
fruits of both heaven and nightmares
like a river of elastic mouths
shifting form like chewed gum

thunder filled the house
a dark paradise found
lost in the realm of the senses
quaking and torn
from
this gleaming blade

its caress a sanctuary
pulled tight
over searching fingers
that roam for damp places
in a flickering daze
hiding a frozen scowl
in
impossible times
Next page