Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ryn Nov 2018
Back of her hand
ran across the red on her lips.

Smearing what once was delectable.

Attempted to wipe the drops
which quickly turned to rivulets,
running black down her cheeks.
ThePoet Jul 2016
The words will come
when you're sound asleep
And you've lost it all
and have nothing to keep

When your mind is shallow
and your pain is deep
And your eyes resemble
the clouds that weep

The words will come.....
ALesiach Jul 22
Sometimes I get lost
Now that you have wandered far away
Remembering our love's sweet cost
Every moment of the day

I have danced inside your eyes
To your music, so sweet and clear
Surrendered to you in the heat of the night
My wanton cries filled your ears

Memories come on a midnight breeze
The taste of your sweet breath
Your gentle caress on my ivory keys
As we embrace the little death

You soothed away my restless feelings
Tasted my river of tears
Then left me grieving
Turning my hopes into fears

My heart is made of stone now
My dreams have faded away
Frozen beneath the garden bough
Where my love was buried, that day

ALesiach © 07/17/2017
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2013
Why Men Cry in the Bathroom

For so many reasons.
I will tell you the why.
I think you know,
Or perhaps, you think you know.

Men are always O.K.,
Even when not.

We expect the worse,
Accept the worse,
Nonetheless,
We are forever unprepared.

Wearily, we cry,
In the bathroom, in private,
Lest sighs slip by,
We be unmasked,
Early warring, strife signs warning.

Copious, tho we weep
Before the mirror confessor,
It is relief untethered,
Unbinding of the feet,
An uncounting
Of beaded rosaries,
Of freshly fallen hail stones,
Of night times terrors
By dawn's early edition's light,
and welcomed.

But look for the mute tear,
The eye-cornered drop,
*** tat, that never drops,
But never ceases formation and
Reforming, over and over again,
In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution,

The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing,
And I see you peeping, wondering,
What is beneath


Look for:
the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit,
thrift shop bought, extra worn,
grieving lines neath the eyes,
where the salt has evaporated,
discolored the skin.
worry lines,
under and above,
browed mapped, furrowed boundaries.
the laugh line saga,
where better days are stored,
recalled, as well as recanted,
publicly, privately.

Why just men?

I don't know,
Perhaps,
it is all I know.


Jan 6, 2013
your effusive and lengthy comments are each a poem in their own right.  

Tinkered with June 22, 2013
With a push from Bala,
A serial peeper, thank God!
Jordan Rowan Dec 2015
**** the voices on TV that scare us into depression
**** the killers ravaging the innocent and the gentle
**** the institutions placing us into corners
**** the religions trying to sterilize our minds
**** the powerful that feed on greed and power
**** the lazy that leech off the hardworking
**** the women who use men for ***
**** the men who use women for ***
**** the people that don't believe that you are strong
**** the weakness in you that you know you can defeat
**** the false prophets of false beliefs
**** those who do not respect
**** those who do not love
**** the apathetic
**** the lazy
**** the rich
**** the poor
**** the dead
**** the alive
**** the miserable
**** the happy
**** those who say that life is not finite
**** those who say that life is not beautiful
**** everyone
**** yourself
**** death
**** all that does not make you a better person
**** all that does not help bring happiness to others
**** all that does not make you smile
**** all that does not make you weep
**** all that does not make you feel alive
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2018
why I love certain men


it’s a raining and writing Saturday,
a washout for the beach visitors who chose their
calendar lottery tickets poorly

but hurrah and huzzah for the poet
in the no-sun-today-room with
steam collecting on his face from his 20 oz. Canadian mug,
the rest of him cozied neath a
wooly mohair knitted and tasseled blanket,
from a now naked and shivering alpaca goat in Turkey or Tibet

perhaps we’ll make a tiny dent
in the 1319 poems,
in the ‘sorta started to do’ list

****.
new one sneaks in demanding immediate satisfaction
and threatening my mind’s incarceration unless,
serviced and unleashed as the Frenchies say

Frites, immédiatement!: (french fries, now!)

I love most men; certain men more than others,
not because they are soft to the touch,
look great in thigh highs, can fix a backhoe,
lay hands on animals, just as they do upon their grandchildren,
or write better poetry than me,
because
they make me weep from zealous delight at
their capricious unprecedented constancy of their
honorable actions

they are soft to the core, which is itself
wrapped in a leather soldered steel,
which defines them by their self-questing constant,
asking themselves preface and postface,
doing it well, in between,

what is the honorable thing?

this honor idea of which writ previous
doesn’t dissolve - indeed grows crescendo stronger,
like the miracle of the Yom Kippurs rams horn
crying out to heavens at the concluding end  
on the holiest judgement day,
a shofar miracle for it inhumanly grows ever louder,
ceasing only when nightfall marks a new day begun,
reminding both sinners and saviour each,
to inquire of their colluding selves on this forgiveness-giving day,

what is the honorable thing?

some are borrowers and some lenders,
of anything, the substance or the whom matters not,
but the bonding bonfire from which the deal is done,
is of a uncharted chemical organic chemical matter unrecognized
but millennium ancient


here I stop

the call to breakfast must be obeyed,
for it’s with lovely made, menu man-poet requested,
this is too an honorable thing to do,
and the 1319 half blood~half writs poking my eyes,
can be faced with new courage afterwards
on a perfect raining and writing Summer Saturday
for the next one hopefully and woefully

may not come till the September (Rosh Hashanah/Jewish New Year) when acorns fall

certain men will greet that fall Sabbath/ New Years Day,  
when Atonement begins, a ten day process to the final conclusion,
by asking of everything living and of every act human performed,
for the forgiveness requested inherent in the absolute bar setting of

what is the honorable thing?

which by the by,

is why I love certain women too...

and all who are honorable
will read this honorific and remain
clueless as to whom it is addressed...

oh god, I do so love that best!

what could signal honor even more...
Dead Rose One Aug 2017
consciously, willfully, I wish it

quietly the Sunday, the sun day, drifts toward,
in its natural game, set, overmatched,
the foregone conclusion, nightfall diminishment

the water songfully swishes,
as the tide departs for places unknown, this then, now
the only natural authorized aural apparition,
the power boats renounce their normal noisy conditioning,
honoring their silenced, under-sail brethren,
as well as admitting their noises disfigure
the fast approaching majesty of the end of
our summer seasoning of humanity

consciously, willfully, I wish it

once again, lush is the quietude,^
now given up, surrendered and surceased to wonder,
how come I to write of these moments so oft,
thenever-ending quest to re-inscribe it on my sensibilities,
in vainglorious hopes that this stamping will last, be the last,
see me through the turgid frigidity of my Lucifer life,
come the fall, the winter, the early dark,
the daylight's brevity, the hurricane season of the mind,
that...need I say more?

consciously, willfully, I wish it

the particular white cloud formation of the moment at hand,
shall stay in place,  be the capstone of my summer living vision,
become permanent part and parcel
of the sclera, the white of my eyes, and when
I will write, soon enough,
my vision white weeping clouded,
you will weep knowingly, sympathetically

consciously, willfully,
I wish for that as well*

8/27/17
6:35pm
ALesiach Jul 22
Somber days of autumn rain
my heart, a fading flower
corn whiskey drowns my endless pain
beneath my woodland bower

Shadows creep where night begins
as sunlight gently fades away
my sorrowful cries remain within
while restless mind keeps sleep at bay

Sanity takes its wingless flight
amid the hours that slowly turn
reality wanders in shades of night
in waking dreams, your ghost returns

ALesiach © 10/05/2017
Un-Thrifting Essence, what of Loneliness
Allows the Hill across to bend and weep?
Who is to blame? Are you the Sorceress
Drawn to cast an Un-Witting Spell so deep?
These are all but Questions; If I may add
Failed on Writ, yet convenient to Subject
Here is the Adjective I thought I had
But the Spell did lie thus made to reject
My Immortal Covenant: To Keep you,
Dearest Talent; A Servant's Dud I make
Within a shadow shines a Brighter Hue,
A Promise I no longer will Forsake:
Though in Essence always revealed un-been
I am that Shadow never revealed un-seen.
#toniacouch
Rizna M Rameez Dec 2018
Papa,
Don't cry over her
Don't worry
Your daughter is safe in heaven's arms

But the tyrant,
When he faces his doings,
He will let out a wail,
A shriek that will resound upon the belly that fed him,
A shriek that will send shivers down the spine, into the very earth that will hold him no longer.
A shriek that will reach the people that refused to help him,
That defied him his self-proclaimed right of putting those bullets to the heads that did not, in any way, deserve it.
His pain, will be so profound, he would know what he meant by "The meaning of real pain",
Was utter foolishness
That the words he spoke, have now fired back against him
That the torment he caused, is rebounding upon not merely his body,
But his soul
The soul,
Tainted with blackness that slashes of blood has left upon his being,
That Lady Macbeth could never wash off,
However many sleepless nights she'd spent on it.
26.12.2018
Debbie Brindley Aug 2018
My heart is breaking
Can you not hear
****** tears weep silently
today
life is to hard to bare
Through shattered shards
pockets of sadness
seep in
darkness creeps deeper
under my skin
Run from these feelings
but go where
My heart is breaking

This life's Harsh Lesson
Well yeah

IT'S HERE

In my face
Poking holes in my personal space
It hurts so bad when unable to fix
When life throws tragedy
into the mix
My heart is breaking
What can I do
Nothing
But be here
beside the one I hold true
Feeling sad
ALesiach Jul 22
You know you hurt me
These tears flood the pain
My mind battles a raging sea
My heart, scared to love again
and still I hope in vain
for a love sweet and strong
to right the bitter wrong.

I look in the mirror
and see your smile once more
I whisper, "Come nearer"
you vanished like before
leaving my heart bruised and sore
My heart longs to be free
Is death the hidden key?

ALesiach © 05/2018
Bryan Lunsford Sep 2018
When my heart breaks I weep as I'll weep for days,
With weeks that'll go by without any sleep I'll stay wide awake,
Where I'll wait here in the same old tiring place,
(With nothing besides this woman on my brain)
And I'll pray the nights away as I hope in our next life I find a way--
To make sure she never again goes astray,
As the blinds are closed, I'll lie here and watch another passing day,
With only the lords that knows--for her, I'll wait my whole life away
ALesiach Jul 22
In silent dread
My weary steps slow and falter
On this winding path I tread
Sadness reflects upon the water
And on my soul, its shadow cast
Sadness comes, sadness goes
Life is bright, or dark with woe
Will you kiss my cold lips at last?

My heart grows faint and weary
Touched with deep grief
On this longest day dreary
A gift of sorrow without relief
And on my soul, its shadow cast
As daylight fades
Into deep night shades
Will you kiss my cold lips at last?

ALesiach © 06/25/2017
D Letwixt Oct 2018
All the things we neglect to say or feel
are stored up somewhere
swirling and undulating in the deep

Eventually, they all rise up--
in a single violent urge
it exits our cowering bodies all at once

and there's nothing one can do but shake
ALesiach Jul 22
I lay amidst scenes of deepest gloom,
beneath the garden's bower blooms.
Listening to the wind and rhythm of the rain,
weeping grief, my soul in pain.

The darkness deepens,
covering meadows, darker still the woodlands.
Gone the twinkling starry skies,
thunder drowns my soul-sick cries.

Wounded, weary
Sheltered in my fragile sanctuary.
The woeful heart sings,
the torments that life brings.

My heart has no desire to stay,
when my heart's desire has flown away.
I come to the garden alone now,
beneath the bower, our lover's vow.

ALesiach © 06/29/2017
Piyush Gahlot Jul 2018
I asked her to stay away,
I wanted her to leave.
I needed more space,
This is what I used to believe.


Frustrated by her demands and expectations,
I felt little less of freedom.
Started hating to explain how I spent my hours,
what was I doing and what did I had for lunch.


Bored of relationship,
Thought I needed a break,
Just a bit more space,
to do the things I crave.
She misunderstood me terribly,
I adjusted but failed miserably,
Started losing myself trying to keep her closely.


Finally, the separation happened,
It got over I was delighted,
went out on a trip, partied, enjoyed.
She was the one who suffered the most
Things got better as the time passed by.

I pushed her away,
I made her weep,
Not thinking much asked her to leave.
Break up was tough on her,
But she got through,
I made her cry so the Karma has to come for you.

I Met her again at our favourite place,
in hope of getting her back ,
but I could see it in her eyes, that I have been replaced.
Now everything is finished,
everything is blown.
I paused but she moved on.
Now I am the one who's ******* left alone.
Going through the guilt , pain and alone phase after pushing my girl away.
If you really want a break up think over a 100 times before going for it.
No crevice too small, no place too far off for the weeping

The weeping of those never sleeping to be heard.
For unto sleep, much is found that one should not dare

Because of the snare.

Death takes it toll in unprecedented means, life is found by the unveiling of the believed.

So, why weep, why lend a tear?

To gladness in fear, disbelief or simply reprieve.

Weeping, mourning and joy,

two give happiness, the other hope

So, carry on weeping as I someone has always heard.

Signature:
G.S.V.K.P. 12142017
ALesiach Jul 22
The winds are whispering low
As the night touches the sky
Where stars twinkle and glow
Behind clouds of ghostly white

Lying down between the pages
Lulled to sleep, in your own world
A book faded by ages
Where lost memories unfurl

To forget, for a moment
Awake, you'll never be
Our time lost, taken, stolen
Sweet death takes you from me

Let me stay for a while, in sleep
For tomorrow in sorrow, I shall weep

ALesiach © 01/13/2018
ALesiach Jul 22
At the turning of twilight
Where whispers of the past linger
The shadows edge the moonlight
And desire's of the heart remember

The laughter has not been silenced
Roses do not darken and wither
A heart not wrenched with agony intense
And desire's of the heart do not shatter

In midnight pangs your music beckons
Twirling, arching to your sweet chords
A soul cries out to the heavens
As trembling lips whisper forgotten words

Longing to feel you wipe the tears from my eyes
And lovingly kiss me one last goodbye

ALesiach © 01/12/2018
Cassia Aug 2018
"Come hear!" they cry thru the shadowed veil
"Don't you hear the blackbirds song?
Do not weep for the grievings of her heart
For it is you that is dead and gone..."

"It's me indeed!" cried the poor wand'rer
"For behold I meet death at last
My heart beats fast like the fallen bird's wings
Filled with sorrows for my lonesome past..."

"No, No!" cried the blacksmith's wife in vain
"Your heart should not grieve for your colorful days!
I n're leave home and I work till I bleed
I am caged and shall die a slave..."

"Your tunes are absurd to my disciplined ear,"
The businessman spat in the stranger's path
"You can scarce imagine my crimes toward man
I am ****** to Hell for my horrid acts..."

"My songs have begun to fade out of key!
My spirit has died," the performer mourned
"I sing alone with another's words
The crowd sees beauty, but it's pain they scorn..."

Now do you hear it? My song that I sing?
Now that you've reveled on a darkness within
Sing no longer for me the tune that I give
For the caged bird that I am, I see all of your sins.
I tried a new style. Sorry, I can't explain it or make it more complicated than it is.
Rob Rutledge Jun 2018
The sea is swept in mystery
She confides in me no more.
No whispers in the shells
Or echoes from the shore.
You do not argue with the wind,
You can not bargain with the sky.
Standing back to back with mountains
We watch and weep as angels die.
For the face of life is fleeting,
Tweeting, tapping at your door,
Ravens that won't relent,
Yet ones you can't ignore.

But I'm boring you I'm sure.
I was talking about the ocean,
How we dont speak no more.
It's not that we don't get on
We still have much to say.
But words are made of water
Written in the waves.
Now the tide is out,
The sea seems
Far away.
Poetoftheway Aug 2018
how do you know when (a human is too broken?)



<•>

human too broken?

like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes
you cry

the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d,
hid by you, not to be found by you
at the bottom of the kitchen garbage,
but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided
peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming,
what did I do to deserve
this degrading

like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended,
you know it but still pretend not to see,
for you both once loved that silky guise that so
heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making
your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk,
recalling the pleasured admiration,
rain remembered from the
prior priority of a life consisting of only
perfect gifts

so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how...

remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened,
you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact,
even if you do,
no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere,
is it even
anywhere advertised?

the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet,
holey scupperrd holy cuttered
so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads
no longer function in a tandem,
you keep it in the closet closed,
in the back, deep hid, where,
when it screams why,
it can be safe ignored,
because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word,
in your globe's dictionary,
the parental controls activated by you to
save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion,
it has been removed


so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other,
if not weep-well,
well enough hid,
the fit is off,
the fit is off,
the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
an unexpected poem, unplanned, needing work
aug 4-5
Weeping Zaire, her Bleeding Flannel blew
Over the Land this Serenity bequeath
What happened, then, to the Children you knew
Took out their Armites; And shot Mercy beneath
Salt from their Riches they greatly export
And infected your Brothers in the Dark
With Mums, Flesh-Spermed Tales of Horror consort
Lost all but their Shelled Samples in the Park
Our Dear Hands sprout! And cry to Heaven's Name
Asking the Saviour when this Madness ends
As the Radio's Red Tape is all just the same,
All just Light-Shows; But very few Amends.
These Congo Apes weep black at the Event
Not just the Brother; But Habitat meant.
Iska Feb 2018
The false crisendo of your words
Grate against my every nerves.
Wandering round
With ****** feet
How many expectations
Have I failed to meet?

What more do you want
Of my sorry soul
When I cannot bring
My self to breath anymore?

So I watch your hopes
all tumbling down
It feels quite cold
Down here in the ground.
I'm sorry that I wasn't enough
I tried to be what you asked of me
But I didnt think it'd be So tough.

My weary bones creak and ache,
My wrist all burned and ******,
Can you not be quite just once for my sake?

I understand the gravity.
I know Im failing at life,
But you dig right in,
spreading the cavity,
How to ignore the strife?

Whispered arguments bleed through the walls
How much longer until we fall?
Through the floor straight down to hell
All because I could not tell.

Should I weep in pain,
And slave away,
To satisfy you're whimsical ways?
Should I sell my soul,
And bite my tongue,
Just to keep the wallet full?
But "your so young,
You've no excuse,
So bend your back,
Put those hands to use."

Welcome to life.
Put away your pain,
No time for strife,
No time for play,
Just nod you head,
Exit the stage,
And get a job,
So you'll be payed.

I'd sooner live a poor church mouse,
Then lose myself in persute of a house.
But no, I'll smile my candy grin,
And talk with sugar sweet.
Hide the weight of the pain,
So your expectations, I'll meet.
Some times it's just not enough.
Elena Jan 18
Her branches hung low
to the ground
They brushed the dirt
that they sat upon
How beautiful is pain
when it grows
It has a way to hang
those gentle woes.

See that tree all alone
yet so full?

Her shadows weep
in the bristles of doom
Then the sun comes to play
in the cold bushy monsoon.
As gusty sighs sway her eyes
to greet the galloping moon.
One person is an army
When Two are a prison
Three are a government
And Four are a reason not to drink
Five are the ways they divide you
Six are the roads that you have walked
Seven is the stars that are to guide you
And Eight is your home in the dark
Nine are the women who have held you
While Ten others broke your heart
laura Jul 2018
want to throw ya in designers
tear the streets up, just you and me
you know what i'm thinking
go to bed wearing your white tee

our loving's like super bae though
hearts been broken before
and our feet's kind of sore
losing control, shades of grey

blind against the world, rainbow casting
its ghost across the cloudy sky's sweep
how can we leap when we limping?
how can we laugh when we weep?

only together, dont tell ya friends
i have a soft spot in my insides for you
D Letwixt Oct 2018
There is a place, before the kings keep
Where those looks of solemn dignity
Go resignedly to weep
Between the gray trees and under gray canopy

To the place where wildflowers wilt and muses mutter
Little words, falling like white feathers in the muddy water

If one walks between the trees
There is a basin, and liquid of silvery green
Imbued with the mutterings of agony unseen

It is the words of those sorrows frail
Spoken with a breath and then a look of fright
And then a frantic run from faces clothed by night
Dissecting looks unrelenting judgments
upon the unredeemed

all who have felt the pain such as muses sing
And cried at night or betwixt the thorny leaves
have drunk of this basin green
And felt the hot swell of sorrow rising from the deep
crevices of our frail corporeal shells

And the voices of all those who filled it up
Violently swell in undulating liquid wail

From those who walk betwixt the trees
Is sounded the great collective scream.
be ignited or be gone, wrote Ms. Oliver
I was hired at JMU by George Toliver
       for me philosophy’s dawn

O Mary, help me be ignited before gone.
yvan sanchez Sep 2018
the moonlight is pouring into my room
it vanishes—i weep,
a bloodborne obsession
the moonlight is pouring into my room
it bathes me—i weep,
cool wind aches my skin—

Paradise, 2018
Skaidrum Jun 2015
.
Grey
Blinds
Claw
○○○
At,
Subjects
Of
G­reek
Moonlight
●●●
A
parade
of
death.
○○○
Weep
Like
The
Fors­aken
Poetry,
●●●
"you truly are. "
.
Bliss is
the
oblivion.

Snap his heart in seven
formidable
fractures.

There will never be a full moon
When a poet takes a life.

© Copywrite
Sammie wells Feb 2013
Her lover's gone
his souls departed
her devastation fills the air.

Lost in an abyss of time
forsaking all
she walks alone
raking thoughts In her head.

Their souls where entwined
to be forever enbind,
now dreams are shattered
fragments scattered
she gazes in despair.

    Unfamiliar scenes close all around her,    
crestfallen
her soul goes dormant,
the pains two deep
cuts into each heartbeat.

As day light starts to fade
she suspends herself
in the night air

longing to go to the other land,
ready to take her lovers hand.

She doesn't care to breathe
nor does she weep
as she slips into her
forever
sleep.

(SW)
Next page