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RCraig David Oct 2016
Part 1
When profound things leave us because serendipity seizes control and teases our soul,

few actually see it and believe in us....it takes its toll.

Our walls grow high...

Wise to all those sly predators that shared our space but ultimately never bettered us.

Likened to a wild bunch of criminals and nuns you sometimes share fun or lunch with,
then again spin adrift.

So we stay put...only peeling away the day-to-day’s fraying gray.

Though we have heightened steeliness to infernal charms,

We sometimes ignore internal alarms,

Oft' ending up-in-arms instead of in the arms of another.

Battling each curse from crib to hearse,
We continue to play anyway, but hold our cards close..
Somehow coasting on borrowed form and verse.

Still too afraid to lead with enormity.

Still too proud to follow in conformity.

We become shells and ghosts to project “normality”.

Still hoping for more,

Still revealing our core,

Still practicing what we’d say with one more chance to settle the score.

Refusing to sink, either our genius always on the brink of changing the world and more...

Or burning down and gutting out our current hideout and surrounding small town or place of clout.

Still reeling from the lingering devastation of past lackluster unreciprocated non-appreciation knockdowns.

To keep from being corrupt,

We fold our coldest stories up,

And box them up under a "never the right 'write' " pens and pencils cup long filled up.

Smiling a little, we continue through this long season's harsh climate.

Subconsciously buying "Dried" sage because "Rubbed" still seems to intimate.

Tragically tied down by the tiny tech gadgets flooding our data stream with faster updates;

All just to dazzle and daze us into a lazy malaise on our busiest of days.

PART2
More and more we wait.

The "what-if's" we contemplate.

The more we try to create something great, then hesitate, none too late

The more this inundating system of “Likes” rates you,

The less your gated fate or guiding faith makes you "you".

The less your justification or inspiration moves you.

Yet uncompromising and alone, you continue and make it through.

No one could ever guess from your crisp pants' fresh press. I digress.

Oddly, all it likely would take is one ego caress from soft smiling muse in sandals and a summer dress.

If you could only get this distress off your chest, fall hard for a new muse, give your defenses a rest

endure the re-birthing process and all the possible hot mess...then...

Never again would you have to guess or obsess.

The sheer potential magnitude of you at your best.

An open floodgate of uncanny, uncaddy personal success.

You would never again feel idleness or unrest.

But "who" you ask, would be caring, tough & daring enough,

willing to share all that stuff through such an arduous process, off the cuff?

Who has such pure heart intent, without the fluff?

A Muse who speaks out loud for you, never a mumble...

Is strong and humble, but not rough and tumble...

Who heeds the needs of your soul's rumble...

Who pulls the "new you" close while your old limits crumble...

Is fair and daring when you're sharing how bizarrely you sometimes raise the bar...

Joins your rare ****** to close down the bars while thoughtfully considering how fragile your scars are...

Who encourages you to shoot for the stars...

Sees the truth of who you were, hope to be and the screams in-between.

And by her sheer presence, becomes all these things for that new man and him alone.

Cause of she, he will achieve and be more than he could on his own.

Whoever that girl may be and until then,

I mend a tightly woven,

slightly broken,

rarely spoken,

unawoken caged soul for one more shinny token to spend on this world alone.

By R.Craig David-Copyrighted 2012
The phone sings into my life from
Its still place in the corner,
Fulfilling the role of messenger
Holding onto elation or devastation,
Chit chat or sales voice of persuasion.
A tracking device linking into our whereabouts,
Held on our person, in car or walking mode,
Connecting us with another soul.
At one time these sentences would wait,
Storing up conversation and expectancy,
Now, the turn off mode rarely used,
Its surface new alongside never ending
Chit chat from keys depressed at expert
Speed and dialogue, via shortcuts
To the english language,
Discouraging correct terminology, a dislike
To some, taught in the old school.
Shall we exercise our way back from here
I doubt we can...we never will

This never ending chit chat mode.
Steele Daniel Nov 2013
The calm before Yolanda

I Whisper prayers in preparation

Thoughts of the harm before it’s caused

Homes wrecked and Separation

The effects of a storm

Death, hurt and the suffering of a nation

These things keep me up

Seated.

Rocking .

Wrapped in my countries flag, the only thing that can keep me warm

Evacuated Far from harm but I die when calls to my parents are not received

I wait and listen.

Here the breeze blows a gentle beast

There the gusts roar as nature is unleashed

Miles away but my blood runs silent

I fear for the family I left

Is it right that you are out of my reach?

You stay in touch with my emotions

They run for you

Tears flow free as I receive news

An estimated 1000 lives taken

Devastation in village’s, towns and my city

Making Global news

I remain frozen as calls still don’t get through

But media continues to come

Up rooted trees, fathers without sons,

Houses taken in the wind

Ruins left by the floods

I choke on every breath

As I see faces of motionless mothers down in mud

My eyes close powerless

Still no news from my loved ones

Tell me where my home is now

Tell me where I go

Tell me how to be more than a frightened girl aged fourteen

Who fears to sleep alone and dream to wake to a nightmare:

The passing of Yolanda in the Philippians.

Days go by like years

And a gentle breeze blows through the aftermath

Our flag still stands we still have land

A base to build our hope from

Now life has a new meaning

Move forward as one

Salvage- What is lost, is never forgotten

Aid - What was destroyed, will be rebuilt together

Relief- News of rescues emerge

A wreck overturned

I have faith my family survived in God’s hands

~ Steele Daniel
Bowedbranches Nov 2015
Psychic evaluation
Plastic pent up devastation
Watch me from the outside
Shaking, facing corners like I should be faces
Growing thicker by pressure
Letters never mustered out
Quick short breaths
Soothe the skull cap
Bring light to a gray face
Scratched into the surface
lines of  insecurity, passion
Worry upon worry
New ones etched each morning
As I look upon the canvas
Motionless
I wonder do they find me boring?
Alex Acosta Aug 2011
I love you when you're you. I love watching when you don't expect,
My eyes observing every inch of you, Like the lovely spots upon your neck.

Those beautiful nails upon your fingertips, And the adorable spot beneath your eye.
I love the tired face after you yawn, And how your beauty shines when you don't try.

I love watching you bite your finger nails, And as you play with your glistening hair.
I love spectating your every actions And how you act when I'm not there.

I love when your bangs cover your face, and then how you casually lift,
Your delicate right arm to uncover those lovely gazing hazel gifts.

Your eyes are capable of euphoria that can put happiness in the air.
Or can cause pure devastation, all in one simple glare.

I stare in fascination with each movement that you make.
Your very existence steals my breath away, and delivers more than I can take.

I love watching your lips call me Baby, and hearing your voice when you say it.
I want to let you know how I'm crazy for you in words, but Idk how to convey it.

So I write down these feelings, Just to give you a tiny view.
Of my utter fascination with simply everything you do.

So when you catch me staring, It shouldn't be a surprise.
I'm just making great use of my vision, by loving you with my eyes.
Awesome Annie Dec 2014
I collided with an invisible wall, felt the force when I hit the floor. Pulling myself off the ground, I realized I've been here before.

Gravel stuck to my knees, wounds that only sting. The biggest devastation, is the sprang in my left wing.

Have you seen my halo? Just leave it where it fell. I thought his arms would catch me, can you tell me if this is hell?

I used to be an Angel, but now I don't know my place. Just that I can't escape the pain, that fills this empty space.

They whisper lies while I sleep, that love can mend a broken heart. But if you ask me, from what I see, it only rips the mind apart.
dilshé Aug 2021
Cataclysm at its finest is it?
Catastrophe galore
Crisis & calamity
Beginning of  
humanitys' war
Great nuclear holocaust,
Mother natures devastation
Festering with inhabitants of the era of degradation.
Where we are the parasitic infestation
numbly oblivious to backfiring ruination.
Our world is a gas chamber
with poison - being suffused & saturated.
A toxic wasteland for our toxic souls
heartless ghouls ought to be annihilated -
obliteration sounds tempting...
'mass suicide of this vicious nation'.
Black death couldn't quell us malicious beings
No virus contagion in existence ever would -
eradicate a species, this selfish & grim
Should we blow the world up if we could?
All the Atomic & Nuclear could be put to good use
Escape the mess we made & ignite the fuse
As the grotesque & gory go up in flames
vanquish every origin of mans evil games
Watch Earths inferno,
much better than Hiroshima or Chernobyl
Lamenting on the barren face of Mars,
Of the spectacle 'it' could've been but never will.
farthest star Oct 2021
At night, I'm afraid to dream
of warmth and nostalgia and light;
fleeting moments of joy you brought into my life. Only to wake up knowing it was a memory; that my walls are no longer kissed with golden sunshine, that my days no longer consist of your sweet messages of love and empathy and hope.

At day, I am numb and fixated on your death. I bargain reality; dozing off, speculating scenarios of what could've been. My despair like a whirlpool of devastation; of loving thoughts and regret that I'm clawing to get out of only to sink deeper and deeper. I am trapped in a constant cycle of overwhelming sadness and feeling nothing at all.

At all times, I miss you, loved one.
I miss you as the sun misses blue skies at night and the moon misses stars at day. My soul searches for yours through my memories and passing thoughts. But your presence has left me in this lonely world, and I ache for the time we are finally united again.

I mourn you, I pray for you.
I promise you
With all that I am, I love you.
I love you, Auntie. I'm sorry. There are so many things I regret not saying to you before you left us. May you rest in paradise.
ks Nov 2015
every time we touched,
sparks didn't fly,
a tempest arose,
its origin the sky,
for I was the wind and
you were the sea,
devastation was meant to be.
Inside us all, we wish for The One that we have
Ideas of falling endlessly down a blue tinted sky with. In a
Myriad of a countless mind, perfection lies dormant inside.
Vile…the horrors of loneliness in time, and
All lands and waters cannot hold its meaning.
And if meandering glances could speak,
Of Antioch and withered Troy,
My sweet, fabled Helen would be my goddess.
The love I killed without realization…
Remaining requiem lead to devastation,
I solemnly ridicule myself over again,
And riposte, is still there paradise in Eden?
Incredulous, it happens that I know life will not
Pass by my eyes, Sirens will not command their rot,
I live now until entombed, the morgue has never scared me,
But bereft of her, I am a hollow shell that suffers cruelly.
Nora Sayed Jun 2021
They haven’t smiled properly since then
I long to look into your dark eyes again
To see what you hid in your soul from words
To take me with them on a journey to your world
They seem to remind me that you’re human too
That feeling unproductive isn’t something new
They vent saying you’re going through a hard situation
Where loneliness is causing a great deal in your devastation
It’s challenging you to try and live without it
To bring over new friends who truly love you and admit
It’s creating in your mind the illusion that no one wants you
And being stoical would be the only way through
So I ask you when it speaks in your head, radiating a sound
Telling you to disappear, say “ No I want to be found.”
At one time, I had a secret place.
Full of mystery, of light, of grace,
An architecture of stone, wrapped
In silken vines and flowers

Clovered rock and broken pew
Abandoned but innocent, anew
It bloomed from the destruction
It had been carved from, to peace

To serenity, a dark past forgotten,
A new hope in silence, begotten
Yes, peace, serenity, new life,
Of these traits it sparkled through streaming sunlight

Last time I was there however,
I thought it to be the last, forever.
The rain had pounded relentless
And when I went to take shelter there

I found no soothing safety.
No evidence of serenity.
The clear beige stone painted then
With the blood of fifty bullets.

I dropped to my knees,
A new pain unleashed
A dark past repeated, the devastation,
Of what had once been good there.

Broken stone that had held
Warmth, life and strength; melds
Into cold, hard stone
Hewn from pillars with the bodies broken against it

War happened there, brutal and complete
And I crumbled with the walls, as sleet
Plundered down through the halls
And upon my shoulders, pinning me there

This place, my best friend, my escape
Had turned into a place of pain, even hate
Of self torture, of visions of blood
To relive the beheading of all that was good.

I ran from that place, I tried to never look back.
I let the home fade with the light- to black.
I made a new place, small, quiet and safe
Hidden from the world, forsaking my place.

Today, while staying in that hiding hole,
One day of now months, alone, but whole,
Used to this new refuge, safety in solitude
Secured in darkness no one can find

I heard the smallest of whispers, a flute
On the wind, familiar, but frightening,
Coming from within, a place I knew silenced
By gunfire and rain, I stood from my shelter, and I walked again

I left the dark safety, as if caught in a trance
Feet following a path, I once had tread with dance
That way was becoming overgrown, from so long unused
But I knew the way, naturally following the muse

Every step forward, quickened my breath
Do I dare go back and look, at the life turned to death?
Would it hurt all over again? It was cold when I left…
But that sound if coming from somewhere… if I just look-

Look! There… beyond the last turn
A glance of sunlight on stone wall, and my heart starts to yearn
My pace rushes with my pulse, to see the place still standing
In my thoughts, since leaving, I'd only dreamt of it crumbling

Through the forest, and onto the stone,
My best friend is wounded but… no longer alone.
The pain is still here, and I still want to cry
The blood stains are browning, fading since 'goodbye'

But I still see them, I remember the first
I remember seeing the blooms when they'd been dying of thirst
Bullet shells and broken chairs still litter the floor
Glinting in the sunlight, revealing even more

Pain, yes, but as I cross to the middle, a change
Something different, something new, something little.
The center of the courtyard, broken cobblestone had been torn
From the fighting, the battle, the tantrums, the storm

It had ripped away the stone and structure, busted it to bits
But here, in the middle, where it was laid bare… it's..
Growing. Something new, something persistent, green life
In the middle of what was born out of only weapons, lightning strike

Again, brought to my knees, I kneel at its side
I see the highlight of light, along the edges of leaves, and inside
Young still, fragile, but full of promise
Full of hope, and home, and a reminder of what was lost.

These same vines once curved around columns,
And as the glow of life returns to my eyes, I see, here they still do
Here it is growing in the new places
To mend, and stitch the new holes, and to close the old wounds.

Maybe this place… it can't be what it was.
You can't reforge stone, or simply paint over blood
But nature has a way, of doing its part
It will take what's left of this core, what was torn apart

And make a new place, with the same memories as the old
The same whispers of peace and serenity retold.
No it won't look the same, but if this continues to grow
A structure will turn into a Garden of Eden… and a new home.

With green glow back in my eyes, and strength back in my heart
I stand again, and I will do my own part
I will rebuild what I can, and create new for the rest,
And make it even better than it was before the test.

No matter how many gunmen, come knocking on the door
I will stand between them, and the place I adore
There is too much beauty still, and I will forsake us both never
This is my home. And I will protect it forever.
Acsending high in the friendly skies
Yet my mind lies in what lies within the inner sanctum
That scream of praise and devastation coitally in your inner thighs

Mornings of wonder and blissful thoughts
Midnights filled with ice cream and talks
Ice Cold...yet our emotions melted and were caught

Like Kobain my brain overloads with what could be
Lines of ******* running to a no end marathon
Of love, lust, and similes

Why can't I shake this feeling
Blended so eloquently with a hint of fresh mint
But the acacia grows perpendicular with right angles of symmetry

Late nights and early mornings like ambrosia you sing...
Wrapped in a lyrical yet detrimental feeling of what could...no...what can be...

I dream of whimsical phalicies and fantasies of you with me
Wrapped so taut around my mind and waist i can't concede...so evocative...a little provocative...

Midnight Mornings greet the sun and the moon
Oh ****....too soon...I zoom...with Commodores like Lionel Richie...
Damon Robinson Apr 2021
I write this, knowing that I will one day forget the colour of your eyes,

Devastation washed over, this was when I realized

I won’t be able to show you that the sun in the sky was something that I made for you.
When things do not go your way, the silver lining is that you were always going to be fine either way after all
louis rams Oct 2012
There is something that I can not see
Why the UNITED STATES has broken
So many AMERICAN INDIAN treaties?
We should put our heads down in shame
For the AMERICAN INDIANS are
Not the ones to blame.
They have been fighting so long for their rights
And have made the ultimate sacrifice.
They have given their lives for this nation
And still do not see their salvation.
All other ethnic groups have
become free from oppression
And their Indian rights have been
left to the u.s. discretion.
Why are they still classified as wards
Of the government, and their lives
Are still below the poverty line?
Isn’t this the biggest sign !
That they are still discriminated against.
They live in one room houses and shacks
And the government has turned their backs.
No running water and no electricity.
Is this the way it’s got to be?
A family of four or more
Sleeping on a ***** floor.
They were once known as the Indian nations
Now it’s total devastation.
People all over the world have heard
How the west was won
That it was with the almighty gun.
They just hear the one sided story
Of how Custer rode to glory.
But not the sufferings that they
Put the Indians through
And all they had to endure.
And suffer the humiliation of defeat
And drop down and scrounge for meat.
with weeping willows thoughts and beliefs- i believe also
George Krokos Oct 2010
There was a calm felt before the storm
and also some uneasiness in every form
a hushed anticipation of what was soon to be
perhaps a fateful outcome of each one’s destiny.

During this time it became very dark and foreboding
that everything around lost all its charm and standing.
Suddenly there were flashes of lightning and clashes of thunder,
which rolled from the clouds, seen and heard by all there under.

Then a strong wind blew and a heavy rain began to fall
lashing onto everything around as it turned into a squall.
As the tempest raged on in a crescendo and reached its peak;
turning day into night and night into day, all seemed so bleak.

There many creatures all scampered and sought the safety of shelter,
out of the maelstrom unleashed by nature, in a state of helter-skelter.
They all knew their places when it came to that threat of danger;
out of harms reach they tried to flee even if it was with a stranger.

After the storm had spent all its fury and slowly subsided
a calm settled in again which had lately just been divided.
And all appeared to have been molested and somewhat shaken
as light broke through the clouds to make that day re-awaken.

While the storm in its wake seemed to have wreaked much devastation
the forces which had come into play reminded one of the act of creation,
when those seeds of life were implanted ages ago at the very beginning,
causing all things to gradually spring into existence with some meaning.

-------------------------------------------------------­---------------------------------
Private Collection - written in 2002
Santiago Apr 2015
Everything is fading, day by day, night after night, my word I keep, I meant what I said, my love is true, yet I go so far, cuts leave me scars, although things become a blizzard, I'm loosing my wisdom, intelligence, creativity, memory, biological constitutional is fighting itself, no one helps, only my Lord, it's all I need for him to love me unconditionally, everyone will bow, fall to their knees at his arrival, witness his presence, god is good, love from above, he saved me, but things are formidable to bear and withstand, much animosity, much aggravation, great devastation brings me lower, however my soul & spirit is strong & follows through, keeps it's pace, as my hearts in a race, set ablaze, in this livin maze, consumed by daze, eyes coordinated loose focus blurry gaze
nick armbrister Apr 2020
The civilian islanders living on Guam have only 14 minutes to flee North Korean missiles.
What will they do when the enemy birds are fired?
So few minutes to get to the shelter.
Will the shelter be enough to protect them?
Nobody will know what type warhead the missiles carry.
Not till it detonates and unleashes devastation.
Some people don’t care about the threat.
They chill out at the beach surfing or reading.
Or go to a barbeque and drink ice cold beer.
And go to a club with a pretty lady and dance close.
Who cares about a fat madman’s threats?
If he fires a single missile it will either miss or be splashed.
Then his nation will be reduced to ash and rubble.
North Korea failing to exist except only in memory.
Adding to the list of dictators and regimes that were ******* insane.
This latest one targeting Guam due to the American base
a battle ensued
across the skies
meteors and comets
impacted
upon each other
fierce were the explosions
a trembling quake
rolled through the planetary spheres
neutrons and protons
collided
monstrous and massive
destruction
befell the galaxies
which were ******
into the battle's vortex
combustible fires flared
burning for millions of years
the war didn't abate
the kinetic energy
compelled
more
devastation
catastrophe
lasted
until
eternity
DC raw love Dec 2014
with the sun hidden
by the pouring rain
with a small glimpse of sunshine
through the clouds of pain

with the winds of evictions
with falling trees
as the flood is upon us
from the breaking of a levee

as the clouds breakaway
in the darkness of night
with devastation upon us
during the morning light

with the smell of death
lingering through the air
people crying
looking for their dead

no place to go
no food or water to be had
no sign of help
we’d be better off dead

why does this have to be
why did it happen to me
why  doesn’t anyone care for me

left me with a shattered life
of anger flowing through my veins
Michelle Garcia Dec 2015
I am holding my breath for you,
underwater, with an expanse of indigo
or perhaps, blue velvet,
enveloping me within miles
of motionless serenity

I do not mind my own inability
to breathe,
lungs stagnant, sleeping-
with the world around me frozen
and patiently waiting
for my skin to break the surface

I am drowning in love for you,
stomach filling with both
fear and tranquility, serrated
heartbeats stifled by
my own inconstant drifting

sometimes it comes in waves,
storms,
drought,
devastation,
other times it burns
the tips of my fingers charcoal,
smothered in ash from the heat

but today I am sinking slowly,
overwhelmed, ocean bottom
but yet I do not mind

I love you so deeply
it consumes me.
Third Eye Candy Sep 2011
ripe fruit unconfined to the width of fruit

frightfully absent-minded of it's metaphor

burgeoning with sweet to burst-

...’The slowest devastation of a perfect sphere.


Bloated in the sun

at the peak of yes

a trifle to a god; and everything He meant.

the raw sub conscience of Love Itself.


Forest olde and valley wide

heeps of time upon time in a bramble of lush

vast with green enough to burst

...the joyous vegetation of a perfect world.


Garrulous in the sun

at the peak of yes

a testament to god at His first attempt.

the sheerest genius of Love

Thyself.
Amanda Feb 2014
The days have been passing
And no mends have been made.
The ashes are still swirling through the air
From the last war we fought,
But it seems to me
The battles always end the same
They leave a devastation that I can no longer bear
So of course:
I'll always remember your smile
Your gentle touch
And the way your words
bandaged the wounds the world had given me
But its time for me to let this go
I've found someone who not only tends to my wounds
But fully heals them,
And protects me from any other pain
I'm safe now.
I wish you the best
But it's time to let go.
a note to my ex that he'll never see. needed to release this somehow
kirk Sep 2017
The future is not bright at all it's an abysmal place
It's a world full of the dead, the dying human race
where everything you care about all falling far from grace
And the ashes of all past events are burning without trace
There's nothing in your future there is no silk or lace
Full of demonic forces wearing future's disguised face
A demon lay in waiting to beat you with it's mace
The future is time's henchmen there's nothing to embrace

If you think about the future it's something that It's not
Your future is ahead of you, that's not what you have got
Your life is getting shorter and it's over in a shot
Your own death is there waiting, the end is future's plot
You can't outrun the future, It'll block you in a clot
Waiting for your last moments, the future's where you'll rot
The outlook of the future is not really all that hot
I'm afraid your goose is cooked in future's cooking ***

So be very careful and don't believe your eye's
Don't ever trust the future it's based on pretentious lies
The future will just ****** you before your next sunrise
And you'll be lost in history it should come as no surprise
Heading towards the future that's something to despise
Because everything diminishes it does not compromise
As you reach your own end, there isn't any highs
Don't you know that Death is just the future in disguise

The future it destroys your past the moment you are born
It doesn't care how young you are or if your old and worn
Or if your laying in your bed or sitting on a lawn
The future rips your time away your life's blood will be torn
Your whole past will be destroyed, that is future's scorn
a very nasty piece of work with celestial strength and brawn
It is unavoidable it's the place you will be drawn
Future's end is waiting, it is your future's dawn

I know that I'll be future's pray, I really do despair
Knowing that eventually I will end up in future's lair
But unfortunately for every race it's something we all share
We all end up in the same place ascending future's stair
Future's revenge on humanity, we all sit in future's chair
No point trying to survive the occasion is not rare
It makes me go out of my mind it's something I can't bare
plagued with devastation because the future doesn't care

The future kills the past it's what the future is creating
The death of all humanity is all within it's making
There is no point just sitting there and anticipating
All the future wants to do is cold blood eliminating
The future is sadistic it's you that it is baiting
It strikes its fear into all things and everything relating
You can not get away from the end even with migrating
After all your end will come where future's end is waiting
Simon Clark Aug 2012
Systematic and controlled,
Played my hand and the dice - they rolled,
The hurt and anger of the draw,
Left me as cold and empty as before,
So i believed in the 'live and learn',
But my soul was hunted down and burnt.

I dropped my eyes to conceal the fate,
Every turn i take, i take too late,
To see the clock ticking away,
I never thought i'd see the day,
The skyline changed to green and pink,
I realised i was the missing link.

Hell became heaven and heaven became hell,
I stood hoping to fall into the wishing well,
I needed to drown beneath the stars,
Or feel the weight of one thousand cars,
To die and give myself to darkness,
To free myself from all of this mess.

The devastation of my reflection,
Led me to my own rejection,
My eyes were forced to close themselves tight,
As i whisper sadness to my ears at night,
The love that once to me you gave,
Drifted to sea on a violent wave.

But i know that my loss will be your gain,
So let my kisses shower you like rain.
written in 2005
Stark Nov 2018
All but still
Wheat wavering in the distance, shivering in anticipation
Animals hide away, tucked in the safety of hideaways, holes, and orifices
Humans crouch underground, waiting
Hours pass
A lone alarm shouts across the land
"This is an emergency. I repeat, an emergency warning"
So loud that those below, closer to hell than ever before, clutch their ears
For they are ringing from the vibrant sound waves stretching across the fields
A slight change in wind directions
A little bit of motion
Begins the devastation

A lone inverted triangle appears
Seemingly hovering, inches above the ground
Circling its prey, before it gorges itself
Endless cyclic motions, vacuuming everything in its path
Houses, barns, plants fly
Tugged from the attraction to the ground to the sky
Engulfed by the tornado
That winds down a path of destruction

On a whirlwind high
Drunk off of its power
Invoking pain for no reason, except that it can
Land ripped to shreds
Houses taken and tossed miles and miles away
Barns slingshotted across the American countryside
And the deaths
Oh the deaths

Those who thought they could wait it out
Survive again once more
Those who tried to chase the twister
Mesmerized by its hypnotic dance
Those who were in the wrong place at the wrong time
Oblivious to their preventable fate

When the humans emerged
From their underground bunker
They found a land left ruined
Wiped blank of human development
With that they shed tears
Watering the fertile lands
As the tornado wrecked havoc
It brought a rebirth
A chance to start again fresh
tornadoes and their destructive power.
Torin Feb 2016
And then the night sky was alive
I imagined the fourth of July
Fireworks
And forest fires
And unidentified flying objects

Sky alive
I'm alive
And I celebrate
Because a fire I started
Burns out of control
Jumping from page to page
From soul to soul

And then my mind was alive
Running to and fro
Finding friends
And starting trends
While honoring old ones

I celebrate
Because the dam I blew up
Was enough to innundate
This stupid city

And if most are drowning
Im still pretty sure
There are some strong swimmers
Yet left amongst the survivors
Who aren't merely treading water

Sky alive
I'm alive
It's a celebration
City's drowning
So am I
A happy devastation
Your love was a Tsunami
You swept me away
Brought me so far from home
And into the unknown

W                                S
A              E
  V

   after

W                                S
A              E
  V

after

W                                S­
A              E
  V

And though the aftershocks are almost invisible
And though the waves are smaller and smaller
The water will recede, I know
And I will be left with devastation
And a new landscape I will need to reconstruct on my own
But right now
*I am still drowning
Lyra Brown May 2013
i need a crash course for how to give someone an ultimatum
i need a guideline for how to bypass bullets of guilt
that always aim straight for the heart
and lodge themselves into the core of my chest
i need a technique on how to take them out of my body
without getting my hands all ******
without the terror and devastation of leaving
a pool of blood in the beds of everyone
around me
i need a how-to-stop-needing-your-mother guide
i need to find the-thesaurus-for-making-the-truth-sound-nicer
but no matter how i try to word this,
it always ends up coming out wrong.

get sober, or get out of my life.

this is not as simple as it sounds.

i am so done playing this game
i need a ******* mother who doesn't go from being
kind then manipulative then cold then apologetic then attacking
all in one hour
i need you to grow the **** up and set a ******* example
i've given up on you
i can't believe i just wrote that
i don't know how to tell you any of this
hoping hurts too much and i am trying
to convince these wounds to heal a little softer for once
i'm trying to be gentle with myself
and no matter how much i wish you could be a part of that -
the healing -
you still make me want to die.

everything about this is so wrong
so wrong so wrong so wrong

i'm not certain of a lot of things
but i am **** sure that the devil
is at the root of addiction - of every kind -
and i'm sorry for those who love someone
who is sick like this
there is no greater pain than this
there is no greater pain
than this
and i have never understood something
more deeply
than i understand
this and sometimes i wonder if it would be easier
if i never understood it
in the first place.
O'er the South landscape a force did attack
Whipping winds thrashed furiously about
Buildings were smashed down by the great thwack
Angrily the tornado voiced its tout
People cowered neath protective cover
The skies were tinged in a grey green rage
Twas like a roaring train passing over
The ghastly scene was of utter carnage
Driving rains fell they added more insult
Oklahoma's South witnessed devastation
Nature had reeked an awful assault
A twister caused so much destruction
The tornado was of powerfulness
All in its path under extreme duress
ghost queen Feb 2019
you are may
i am december
kisses exchanged
during the bluing hour
child like
staring at you
in wonder and amazement
frosting night
falling snow
flakes in your auburn hair
i walk you home
in the cold frigid air
holding your hand
dreaming of you

you are rare
a beacon
a lighthouse
in a storm
in my daydreams
you are the pixie, the fairy inspiring me  
at night
you are the siren, i surrender to

a trifecta of youth, beauty, personality
you are refreshingly young
spring in my wintered life
preternaturally beautiful
perfection come to life
your femininity bewitching  
your youth intoxicating
your mannerism seducing
i would do anything for you

oozing sensuality
innocences
of a woman on the cusp
you hunger for sophistication
to be worldly-wise
seeking passage guidance
from an experienced traveller
the trade, the deal, is timeless
refined by evolution  

i am humbled
to have been chosen
the ultimate champion
of your ****** selection
in turn, you are my trophy
the spoils
of a never ending war

i know our time is short
the span of a bloom
a season at most
i know the outcome
seen the devastation
the problem is
we think we have time
https://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/24/arts/design/24wilson.html
(Explicit)

I couldn't tell you what it was...
Or what caused it...
I honestly hadn't thought about you much...
It was a first but it came in plenty.
It was like I forgot about you...
Even if only...

Briefly...

My theory is...
Yes, of course I have one...


In the wake of,
a recent devastation..
I was..
Quite vulnerable..
Teetering on hopelessness...

It was in the midst of all this,
That My,
Boss,
My Employer,
&
Friend,
Starts confiding in me for marital advice....

Seems harmless right??
I mean really...
Why the **** did I even care?

Why would these harmless insignificant things bring back so many memories.


I remember going home that evening...
Drinking wine on my little black sofa...
Looking out my window, as the rain began to sound against my window pane..

It was then, that I realized..
Something started stirring in me
...
I was missing you...

What the hell is wrong with me?

Why do familiar situations, have that pile of **** way of digging things up...
You've already buried ten feet deep?

I'm angry...

I'm ******* at myself!

I don't want to miss a man who doesn't miss me.
Whose not thinking about me.

I don't want to feel the icy sting in my heart knowing he never loved me.

How he got away Scott free.
Without pain or agony...

I don't want there to be some piece of you I always love or a special place in my heart, where you'll always stay...

Because you don't ******* deserve it.

You never deserved me...

You never indured...
The pain and agony...
You don't know what it feels like, to be suffering.

Having to go through what it feels like when, your heart gets even a whiff of something that's tied to your memory..

I hate that my heart still entertains this **** because I wanna be rid of everything that has your memory tied to it.
( I lost track of my journal entry number so this will just be journal Entry 1170 just sounds pretty.)


Sorry for the rant.
Mikaila Sep 2013
When I was eleven I joined the cast of the school play
Aladdin
And the genie was played by a girl
Three years older
With straight dark hair, and a nervously witty way with words
And the most captivatingly violent contempt for the world
That masked and mingled with a host of little insecurities,
And the largest jewel tone eyes I'd ever seen.
One was blue and one was green,
And she looked at me.
I think it was when I was peeking out from behind the curtain.
She just looked at me for a second and
I fell in love with her right there.
Six years later was the first day I forgot to think of her,
And I do believe I'll never go a solid month without the ghost of loving her pressing up against my back once or twice,
Quite unexpectedly.
I didn't speak to her for the first four years,
And when I did I became her best friend, sure that that was what I felt for her.
And two years after we met,
She disappeared and I was glad by then,
But loved her no less.
That was the first.

Then during my eighth grade summer,
Just before I started high school,
I walked into my summer camp
To the theatre to audition for the play
And there on the stage there was a girl
With freckles on her shoulders like cinnamon sprinkled.
She always wore a close fitting hat over her short hair
And her eyes were the deep, slate grey of the sky just before a rainstorm cracks through the clouds.
Her fingers looked like porcelain,
And I couldn't stop looking at them
Because I remembered the sculptures in the Museum of Fine Art
That I always wanted to touch as a child- smooth and white and delicate but with the suggestion of strength.
And when she spoke her voice was the lowest, richest one I'd ever heard
And everyone in the room bent toward her as if caught by gravity.
The way she uses words when she talks is the way a concert pianist uses the keys-
You have to stop and stand in awe, sometimes.
She can make you feel things.
I saw her on that stage, and I fell in love with her, right there,
And this time I think I knew it was love and not friendship.
Four, maybe five years later,
I know I'm not over it.
She was the first girl I ever thought about kissing.
That was the second.

Then my sophomore year, I suddenly looked at a good friend of mine
And saw her for what she was instead of passing by.
Chocolate brown eyes full of sweetness and vitality,
Long brown hair that fell in little curls about her face when it escaped its pinnings as she danced,
She was radiant, inside and out,
Full of this innocent joy, an ability to be... happy
That I had never imagined.
Her little beauties snuck up on you,
And then all of a sudden hit you hard and knocked you over.
It was her loveliness as a person that made her truly extraordinary-
She was nicer to me than anyone I'd ever loved.
By then I knew it was love, and I felt ashamed.
I gave her what gifts I could-
Perhaps too many-
To satisfy some need in me to thank her for existing.
And although I finally learned to keep myself from pining for her
I know that to this day I would fall for her again if I saw her.
She was like a balm for the hard cold brutality of everyday life;
Knowing her was like healing from being alive.
She's overseas now,
Lighting up some room somewhere,
And I hope that the people in it feel the warmth of her like the sun, like I did.
That was the third.

Then my junior year, quite unexpectedly,
I found that I loved no one and hurt over no one,
And I began to find a peace in that
Until on Halloween I walked into my friend's party
(My friend who has, since, sadly spoiled from the inside out over the years,
Or maybe he always was rather that way.)
And I saw what sunlight would look like if it were a person.
Dark hair, black eyes like whole galaxies, high cheekbones, full lips
And the softest, most radiant skin I'd ever seen or felt.
I thought I dreamed her that night,
And many, many times since then I've thought the same.
She kissed me and I felt it through every cell of me,
And although I slowly fell in love with her mind in the coming weeks,
I knew I loved her soul when I saw her eyes the moment she first looked at me.
The joy of being hers left such a glow upon my soul
That when she left I was blind, and fell to my knees.
For a long, long time, she was all there was-
First in love and perfection, and I shivered when she touched me,
Then in loss and devastation, and I shook without her near.
I worked harder and longer than I've ever worked for anything in my life this past year
To learn to love her and live through it even though she is gone
Instead of letting go of the memory of her and hence losing her for good.
Worth every second, I maintain.
She was the person who first loved me back-
The only one so far, honestly-
And I know I will be in love with her until the day I die.
That was the fourth.

And then when I had resigned myself to a life
Of loving someone who wouldn't touch me anymore,
I met somebody new.
She has dark hair that catches the light red,
Wild and curly and it dances in the breeze.
She has the bluest eyes I've ever seen, full of laughter and warmth-
Eyes like that are dangerous, they can make a whole room hot or cold
All on their own.
She saw me loving her, and drew my soul from me
With the touch of her fingers on my cheek
And took it with her when she pulled away and walked down the hall
At 3 am
And when she rounded the corner
She'll never know that I sat down and cried
Right there
Because I knew I'd never quite get it back.
I knew she wouldn't be so close ever again.
But I cried with a smile
Because everyone I meet who can make me feel so intensely that I lose control
Is the most important person I've ever met, all over again.
So now there is her
Her and all these ghosts that press cold against my back when I lay down to sleep
See-through arms around my waist,
Making sure that nothing warm quite touches me truly.
And if she fades with them-
For she is already blurring around the edges,
Starting to retreat into the part of my heart that can house the things that
Hurt
-If she fades with them
There will have been another lesson to go with this loss.
I never know what I'm being taught
So brutally
But hopefully someday I will figure it out.
Maybe then somebody will chase the ghosts away and put her arms around me
And I will know security for the first time in my entire life.
She is the fifth.
But heaven knows who will be
The last.

— The End —