Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Cedric Oct 2019
I’ve submitted my applications.
To be the proxy if need be.
You’ve read my papers;
The clause of letting go,
It is set in stone hearts.

You’ve been left alone and hurting,
I’ve become the proxy for him.
The bandaid over your wound,
To be discarded once healed.

When will you fire me?
Setting me ablaze by losing my job?
When will I be thrown?
Discarded once my purpose is served?

I have had a premonition,
That things will slowly fall into place.
I will be left alone once more,
After my purpose is done.

I’ve served many masters,
All of which are of my choosing.
I’ve been let go before,
After my time has been reached.

It’s normal for me to be forgotten,
Left rotting six-feet beneath.
I have died a thousand deaths,
All to save those in need.

I am dedicated to this unlife,
Of sacrifice and giving everything.
It is my purpose and duty,
To give my life up for others.

Despite the pain and suffering,
Despite chipping away at my heart,
Despite depleting my soul,
I will give and give and give.

All in the spirit of love,
All in the hope of receiving it,
All in the faith of enduring it,
All in the love of sacrifice.

I’m just a proxy,
To replace those who’re lost.
My papers are here,
When will my contract end?
I think it will soon enough.
A poem of being the person that’s always there for others. For us who are left alone after being of no more use. We are the tools at your disposal, the means to an end. No longer human, dedicated to serve.
Rafael Melendez Sep 2019
All my old writing was as accurate as premonition, as if I wanted a tragedy to JOLT ME from my sleep.

The silver lining is I suppose I got what I wanted,
it just wasn't the tragic self harm I dreamed of.
More like a tragic mistake that destroyed the boy I once was, and the girl I once knew.
Premonitions are old tales now, time keeps on moving.
Wang Di Jun 2019
Walking through this abyss of road,
I can feel the wind rushing towards me,
Warning me about what’s next to come,
The trees towards my right,
A synchronization of tales
about the seasonal changes that
they have yet to overcome.
Andreas Simic Oct 2017
The Glimpse©

As he rode down the escalator
Eyes upon the next step
Caution on his mind
The throng of people
Surrounding him like a fence
Something told him to look up
Was it an inkling
Was it intuition
Was it a premonition
Was it fate
But look up he did
And in that moment their eyes met
It was a mere seconds of a lifetime
But they were both transfixed
He going down
She coming up
A passing of two strangers
Eyes locked
Was this a flight of fancy
Or the real thing
He would never know
For she was gone around the corner
And he was on his way to work
Destiny would have to prevail
Someday but not today

Andreas Simic©
Jack Trainer May 2016
My capricious mind
Where have you wandered today?
Who have you offended?
What retribution awaits?

I let you out to absorb the Sun’s rays
And you amble off to seek shade
Your stubbornness has no limits
As you fail to return at the appointed time

My unsympathetic mind
Why have you turned your back on your friends?
Do they not attend to your ego?
Like flies on carrion, their interest is symbiotic

This morning I had a premonition
It was perplexing and brought consternation
There was a rabbit that crossed my path
So many bad things happen to rabbits
Leal Knowone Apr 2016
I walk in this dense realm, with shattered memory's of my past life.
The gods are afraid to come down into the dense wilderness.
Its grown Hard to escape this plain.
what are the memories trying to tell me!
This time I will come back with my horsemen, frequency's aligned.
Shifting into the next degree of time.
Is it impending doom or is it  just rebirth?
a next stage of evolution on this earth.
breaking walls, yet they took over the surface world.
The true nature of the world surfaces.
What is this vision trying to show me.
Should I climb the tree of life for answers?
Recurring thoughts and dreams
M G Hsieh Mar 2016
It was the kind of day
to visit a fortune teller.

Your faint smile remains a mystery,
because you preserve yourself
more than anything.
You prophesy at will and turn wheels.
That is what you do best.
Candle wax dare not scald you.
Strings are woven long.

The day I cut my hair was a cool summer,
two weeks before my birthday.
I left town never to come back.
Your daughters laughed so hard
at the money you threw their way they
probably had spit coming out of their eyes.
That was what they wanted.
It was simple, clean.

The child is young,
he won't know the difference,
convinced yourself thus,
but young 'uns do. They know more
than you ever let on, and they remember,
not the glaring presents or permission to speak moments,
it's the little things, the lilt in your voice
the brush aside look, the pursed lips,
the endless drone of the television
and ipad volume turned up max.

Allow me to demonstrate.*
The sky before and after a thunderstorm is the same shade,
but the land changes,
and the air that breathes in it.
The slight rustle in the trees could mean anything.

Indian spirits once danced around the flames
summoning blessings and visions
that may never come.
Yet, in my dreams were two apples --
green and red, both eaten by worms.
They grew voracious in my hands.

I bathe in heated waters and scrub
lavender and chamomile.
The stew left in the pressure cooker was soft and fell apart,
little droplets of oil cling to me,
I am scented thus.

On a footbridge, I see
the once pristine ground muddied and stars
replaced by fireworks.
Couples hold hands
and smile for any reason.
Taxis come and go, foraging
the next big opportunity.

My flipflops are fine
but my feet are freezing.
I can order coffee
with what I have left
but don't.
Next page