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James Marcro Dec 2013
Today I feel like today is not real,
As if my reality has flipped and now spins like a wheel
Up and down, sideways and backways
How long have I been here?
A minute? An hour? perhaps a few days?

This reality ***** like the thumb of a child
Looking for comfort, forever beguiled
It makes me feel lonely like a knot in a tree
So different from others, there's no one like me
I sit here in this third dimension
Forgotten
Alone
With a desperate need for attention
unsatisfied, unknown

Nobody sees things in the light that I see
My light shines bright, opening the lock with my key

I notice that I feel this reality quite often
Like holding a thousand pounds of ambition
With no courage to soften
Like a wrecking ball of abuse is strangling me like a noose
Like a straight jacket of hope is grabbing me by the throat!
Like a blaze full of sadness so viscous and angry!
This life feels like all that and more,
Pretty much
Mainly

There's some feelings here that cannot be put into words
Ambiguous like art, quick fleeting like birds
They rush through my mind fast like a subway train
but they hurt no matter what, deep in my heart and my veins

This reality stinks, like a soldiers wet feet
full of post traumatic stress
my minds naked, undressed
I need hope, i need help, I need something to eat,
preferably a meal of woman's love,
gentle & sweet

I'll sit in my reality, waiting for something to come round'
Maybe just one smile, perhaps many! Leaping towards me in bounds!
Maybe a whole slew of "you can's" and "no need to frown"'s
Till then I still go backways and sideways, on my wheel of Up Downs
Amanda Noel Jul 3
A horse would pull me
while on the go,
Sometimes we were fast,
sometimes we were slow.

We’d roll for days
making a few stops,
The things that I’ve seen
would make your jaw drop.

One day the man got a car,
with those wheels he could go very far.
No longer useful
I sat in the yard,
No longer wanted,
I stood on guard,

For a day I would be needed
to level a cart,
I guess It went unoticed,
that I had a broken heart.

He left me here
to rot and rust,
my only purpose now
is to collect dust.

As soon as a better thing came along,
he hopped on the ride
while singing a song.
No thought or regard
of what had been left behind,
No man is compassionate, caring, or kind.

I now sit here
until moved again,
But I will nevermore
be a travelers friend.
This is an idea I had when I was visiting a small mountain town. There was an old wheel leaning against a tree in the yard of the house. It was the only one, forgotten about, collecting dust and spider webs, riddled with rust. Reminded me of all the ideas I have had, and forgotten about, because a new idea or inspiration struck.
Kitt Jul 2017
The Wheel of Time continues on
the damning repetition of a spindling Journey
slaving away on the Wheel's unforgiving madness
caught on the Spokes of Eternity,
just a piece
an arc hardly arching in the grandness
hardly varying in the vastness of forever
your entire Existence contained in a Segment
of the Wheel that drives us
forward.
CK Baker Jan 2017
I can’t wait
to be a hundred
turning over the thoughts
and plots
of Caledon
floating
on Zimmer inserts
and dusted Florsheims
three steps forward
in a dream woven
summer afternoon

Through the
barn doors
and bee keeper flats
assimilating voices
from Sachems
and Forbes
and Hope Healers
coming and going
as the countryman
comes
and goes

You can feel it
in a place like this
the 3 in the tree memories
from Allis Chalmers
to combine parts
of Sundrim poppers
to shallow carp fields
the patterned lawsons
and fading caulk
(on ripped and rolled
frontier seats)

it’s a wishing well
for the peddler
and bold hydrangea...
both peeking their way
through
the rusted
grinders wheel
Masin Jan 5
Flowing like wind
I inhale you deep in,
My lungs
Chest beating like drums
The world is rotating
and your spinning around
Like a Ferris wheel inbound
In a way, you got me feeling relief
Must have been the smile u planted on me
Spending all my time,
In your vibrant patterns
Waves crashing and dying
Don't get me wrong
Its beautiful.
1/03/19
MJL Feb 10
I’m a nobody, just like you
Spending time on this earth for a while
It’s a lonely affair, one to share, I think
There’s always something better, they say, but that’s never now
Now is the best we are
Now is the clay in our hands as it’s bent and twisted
Sharing time at the wheel, shaping it in our hands, together, we make now
More
We make time for a while, more
Minutes become our life
Together
CK Baker Oct 2017
dust cloud heavy
in an apricot sky
cottonwood mucker
under ambrose pale
whippet and shepherd
mill at the earth patch
yellow birch hangs
over red bench park

combine shavings
in crack rust brown
scissors chips
fall to the back stop
whiskey jack looters
sing patented chords
siblings (and 2 wheel enthusiasts)
give thanks

joyous retrievers
master the criss cross
bare maples stand
at settlers way
barred owl and blue jay
whistle the fore-wind
ghosts
and goblins
pull at the seeds

wind gusts belt
over the west gulch
blood rush churns
in a chilling fall morn
hallowed grounds still
at the midday
quiet reflections
of the afghan
and hound

jumpers unite
at the oxbow
route runners bend
(on a sultry foray!)
meadows exposed
in the framework
ball park empty
with pennants past

barrel dirt favors
the brew house
crimson and copper
find bracken ridge gate
harvest hands savor
the honey and hops
blankets of color
for a winter's hatch

brush fire kept
under steady peruse
bark bites fly
and embers glow
pine cones drop
from timber tops
3 wick candles
set the dinner place

shiver and ******
at the piper's call
cob web dew
on shadowy gates
a chilled mist mellows
the season's return ~
poets and artists
and dreamers awake
Skye Marshmallow Sep 2018
Metal skeleton, pretty lights
Frozen breaths sit still
Circular motion, hazy nights
Silent minds sound a siren
Swooping lows, soaring highs
We've lost our balance again
Mechanic cogs, wailing cries
The fair ground is eternal
sandra wyllie Mar 28
I want to be a blind melon
and have the bumble bee girl as my daughter
I want to laugh at the rain
lay face down in the puddles and drink the water

I want to be the red wheel barrel
glazed with rain water beside the white chickens
that way the world could be mine
I am ripe for the plucking and all the pickings
Ferns Jul 2018
Is it not easy 
 to greet to someone
whom you never spoke
for a very long time?

Among all people,
I am the only one
you've always bypass
to talk to

I know the hindrance
why we ward off each other
just to make ourselves
escape the stigma

Curiosity gets bigger
Each time I look at you
Should I wait patiently
Or take the wheel further

One thing I could do...
All what I wanted to say,
all my thoughts about you,
are profoundly veiled


You and me
are the only ones
to know what's in...
where people shouldn't know

A storage box
of unspoken words
a birthday bag
of sweets

If you are reading this
do not assume
that I did them
I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold cause I can’t live without you baby.

The water-wheel of that old mill,
the wildflowers growing on that hill,
the small town life, it moved so slow,
gave us time to get to know,
each other's hearts and let love grow...

…so fruitful all the time we had,
through thick and thin, good and bad,
but eventually you had to go-oh.

I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold but I can’t live without you baby.

I cast your ashes in the stream,
beneath the water-wheel that made you beam,
that smile I will not forget and all the happiness that came with it,
and here I sit alone and sad, reflecting on the times we had,
coastal waves to pink sunset, on that first day that we met,
some later rainy but not to wet, -still I couldn’t live without you baby.

And I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart now frosted cold, forced to live without you baby,

I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold cause I can’t live without you baby.

I can’t live without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby,
Here I am without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby…

Forget the things that come and go, those stories surrounding times of old, your lover’s heart will not grow cold when you can think about your baby,

I can’t live without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby,
Here I am without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby…

...here I am without you baby...
This is for my Father who lost my Mother on 3/14/2014.
Eyithen Apr 10
I made a new friend
She is short and sweet
She is the best
so happy we got to meet

We do everything together
We share all our secrets
Confide in each other
and embrace the uniqueness

We bonded so fast
And are both equally clumsy
We giggle at our mishaps
And our awkward tendencies

My friend has a boyfriend
She takes him everywhere
We all hang out
They make a good pair

But lately its been hard
There has been a lot of meetings
Used to have her to myself
This kinda feels like stealing

I am happy for her
I'm sure i would do the same
If i were in her position
I would surely sing his name

But I'm a single pringle
And this can make things hard
All my friends are dating
Guess i was dealt a different card

But i wish that they could know
How lonely it can feel
when you get stuck
being the third wheel
For all my single friends who are often 3rd, 4th, heck, even 5th wheelers. Literally wrote this in 5 minutes on the spot. When it flows it goes.
Deadwood Jawn Nov 2018
No..                                                             ­                                    Yes..

                                   Come         to me
                        Please             see              me
                          I hurt                             I cry
                           I suffer                        I convulse
                                 Drag                   Unscrew
                                     Red               Hidden
                                Crimson         Disinfect
                               ̦̭ ̺̻̟͎̝̩͎ ͕̯̰ ͇̣͔̼̻̱ ̞̪̬̼ͅ ̰̯͎̤ ̝̫̱̬͚̱͉b̻̰͇͎͓̼͙ ̳̭͖̦̝͍l̝̝̻̼̳̬ ̻o͚̩͇̟͎̠ ̞̳o̟̠͉ ̩̳̜̦̺̫͚̣d̟̼̻̘̺͈̼ ̙̺̥̪̮͓͔̗̯ ̳̦̬ ̘͖͍̘̮̘̰̳ͅṯ̠͖̘͓̼ ̻̭̝r̺̬̞͈͈̖ ̜̱̝̪a͕͖̠ ̩͔n̥̙͈̯̲ͅͅ ̪̳̘̦s̬̭͍̱̗̱̝ͅ ̤̞͉͍͈f̙̰̥̤̘ ͇̝̭͔̥̞u̘̹̙̣̦͎̯ ̹̟s͉̯̘̭̺̲ ̰̘̲̙͉̮̪̦͔i̦͈̱̹̘͍̥ͅ ͖̗o͈̯̞̯͓ ̺̮̻n̳̹ ͈̞͈͓̝͇ͅ ̯̲̘͈̩̝͇̤͓ ̝̱̻͍͈͈ͅͅ ̜̜͖͇͔̻̹ ͓̦̜̯͎͖̺ ̮̻͚̼̥͍̲̗



  Yes..                                              ­                                                   No..
Going by 'feeling' once more. Inspired by Makayla Jane's "Wrong", (2018) https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2808741/wrong/
Tell me what you feel. Moderate trigger warning. View this on a computer for the intended layout.
Pagan Paul Jul 2018
.
In a costume of conflicting emotion,
of crossing diamondic colour,
with regal posture in grief,
the Harlequin and the King,
a display of opposites
creating a composite being,
that eases her body
gently into the waiting water,
to float away serene,
on her journey to the nether.

Midnight blue and emerald green,
the regalia of ermine,
both ostentatious and humble,
robeing the aspects,
understated in crowning splendour,
the gentleman King bows,
and the Harlequin laughs,
the bi-polar reaction
to the tragedy of misfortune,
with a sting in the myth-tale.

With the dark hues of mourning,
a legend passes on her way,
across the streams of time,
on a voyage to discover herself,
carrying her Harlequin in a purse,
holding her King to her breast,
owning them both in her heart,
the medicine wheel spins,
knowing the grapes of wrath
yield the wine of spite.

The motley speckles of attire,
a starry parody of night skies,
lighting the decorated funeral barge,
gliding along the rivers of space,
worn with the mantle of sorrow,
and it sails into the sunset,
as the Harlequin and King observe,
the mandala turns,
the bier of the Queen departing,
bears their sadness forth.

The Harlequin laughs and laughs 'til he cries,
his heart grows cold, then withers and dies,
whilst the King, statuesque, memoirs his life,
lamenting the legend of a Queen, his wife.



© Pagan Paul (24/07/18)
.
jcl Dec 2018
you are the center, the sun in the sky
warming, lighting, guiding those below

you are the core, the hub in the wheel
forming, maintaining, strengthening the circle

you are the earth, the bedrock beneath
supporting, stabilizing, reinforcing our lives

you are the reason for our being, our births, our lives
nurturing, nourishing, caring for our hopes, our dreams

you gather, sort the fruits, roots harvested from the land
tending, stoking, reviving embers smothering in the hearth

your strength transcends your body, your mind, your heart
from the first child, to the last, your love, affection is forever

you cradle, caress, kiss, comforting the child
reassuring, protecting, shooing monsters away

you are the strong, tough, steady woman in our lives
fierceness of a lioness, tender as a kitten, loving her child
Thank you Mom, for the sacrifices, you made for me.
All my life, i wanted to join the circus
but take my advice, it's not what it seems;
in thee end, smiles were only pained on and i
can't pretend, to be amused

we sailed out, to the ocean of doubt
and im burning without a flame.

i gott'a find you, to remind you oh that
life is not a game.
Joshua Morrison Aug 2018
Water free pure the ever flowing wave
Emotions come and go never to be saved
Mist laid woods of oaken halls
The clouds begin to sink the rain falls

The air now turns and volumes increase
Blowing limb from tree none shall cease
Spinning and turning life upside down
The forest does dance all around

The earth stands firm as mountains gaze
Water and wind shall never raze
The stone looks and mocks hells storm
For what is the rock the root the norm

Lightning strikes now fires do swell
Of life and death the truth all tell
It burns and rages through rock and wood
But alas the inferno in awe is good

Now spirit arise as the circle complete
The elements combine truly majestic feat
The mesh and grow feeding divine light
The spirit to beckon the gods wrath and might

Fire and air to feed the warring
Cast
Water and earth to make the story last
Spirit to thine own self be true
The story now ends and life anew
what comes up
must come down
and my hypomanic
phase is crashing down
on top of me, with more
new social connections i've
made just over a couple of months
that there is no way i can maintain without
that seemingly superhuman and boundless
energy i've had all Spring, but how to
explain that, who to pick, and my
guilt over having overestimated
my abilities, and people now
hurt over that, and it's hard
to care as much as i should
when it's a struggle to
make it from my bed
to the kitchen, or
washroom, or
even sometimes
to flip over... i know
well enough that what
goes down must also eventually
go up, but for now i'm getting by
hour to hour, and it isn't even a depression
just an exhaustion from months and months
of only sleeping every couple of days, or at best
sleeping 5 or 4 hours a night i think, my body worn
out and though i know this will pass as every phase
of this endless cycle that reminds me of a metaphor
for the mainly Eastern idea of reincarnation, i feel
it as a wheel, that i am the wheel, and it needs to
keep on spinning as long as i am to breathe and
live, so i spin it even on the days where nothing
gives enjoyment, the smallest task like running
a marathon, for no matter on what phase the
wheel is on, it is a much better alternative
than it not spinning at all, mixed-phase
rapid-cycling usually comes next, the
worst, but i am still breathing, i am
still keeping body and mind each
together with each other and for
now that is enough, it is more
than enough, and those that
love will understand or
seek to, and those that
don't i could never
explain it to them,
it seems to have to
be something they want
to learn enough to learn some
on their own... i remember getting
my wife early on in our relationship
on being in a long-term relationship with
someone with bipolar disorder, and she told
me how much she learned from it and how much
easier it would make things. when we got divorced
and i was going through the bookshelves, and when
i came across that book, i picked it up and saw that
the spine had never been cracked, not even to the
index or table of contents, and it made me laugh,
like i wondered if all those years before she
thought i was giving her that book for
some benefit of my own. i'm not
bitter or angry or let down,
finding that book really
made me feel better if anything,
but that's my explanation for not
trying to explain anymore, and at
times like this not to feel selfish or lazy
or like i'm not trying enough, i did that
for years, and it just made the slide slippier
and that landing harder. i've found that no-one
and nothing will love me, or take care of me, or
forgive me, or understand me, anywhere near as
well as i can for myself in times like this when my
batteries are just empty. the best thing i've learned
living with an illness that has a 50%  mortality rate
and a string of broken relationships because it is one
******* to try to hack being in a relationship with
someone with it is that it isn't my fault, it isn't from lack
of trying, it isn't a spiritual sickness, and how liberating
that was, that growing up in a family where anything
bad always had a culprit, where getting the flu and
throwing up meant dealing with a heavy hand,
i fell into that thinking for a long-time, but i
am now at least at peace that i know there's
either no-one to blame, no more at least
than diabetes or cancer or genetics,
and that there is no way in the
world if i could now just
pick being this way or
not, i'd choose this,
i'd choose me,
still broken me,
like we each
uniquely are such,
just as i accept others,
just as they are,
just like i am.
i'm firmly convinced that the closest thing to cures for this illness, even beyond any pharmaceuticals or cognitive behavioural therapy are much more simple, but only are granted by the time, the great healer, those being patience and experience.

tommy petty & the heartbreakers - the waiting
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GAIxVs3ATjw
L Jul 2018
That **** hurts. So many feelings stemming. Hurt, sadness, frustration. Im just trying to take care of my ****. Im doing my thing.
Can I not relax? Can I not stop?


Forever on this hamster wheel called life; forever just a rat in a cage. Fatten me up for the snake. Get nice and familiar; comfortable. Before I disappear, look unto me. See what it is you are doing. Take a look at me. And then really take a good look at yourself.
Wallow swallow tallow mallow follow.
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