Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jun 2017
Gidgette
I keep my wish list
Upon my wrist
But they don't care for that

I keep my dreams
In makeup creams
They said to try that

They said live a fake life
Be a good little wife
I left, and died my hair black

I walk looking down
In vintage whisky I drown
And I'm ok with that

They said to "fake a smile"
Wear My pain with style
I'm no good at that

I try and cover my wish list
Written in scars upon my wrist
With the dreams, silent screams
Makeup creams
I'm not ok with that....
I miss you all. Please forgive my boldness here. Sometimes, I just have to SCREAM. The only way I know how. Much love to you all.
 Jun 2017
Alyssa Underwood
Joy in the midst of devastating loss, crushing disappointment,
unbearable pain or scourging heartache is about the discovery of
treasure so precious and rare that it never could have been found
had we not been forced to walk a path of affliction in the desert.

It's in the isolation and brutality of the wild that we come to know Him
in ways that transcend the span of human imagining or desiring,
and all the songs and all the poems and all the masterpieces
taken together cannot capture an estimable description
of the pleasures that might be unearthed there.
"O God, You are my God, earnestly I seek You; my soul thirsts for You, my body longs for You, in a dry and weary land where there is no water. I have seen You in the sanctuary and beheld Your power and Your glory. Because Your love is better than life, my lips will glorify You. I will praise You as long as I live, and in Your name I will lift up my hands. My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise You. On my bed I remember You; I think of You through the watches of the night. Because You are my help, I sing in the shadow of Your wings. My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me."  Psalm 63:1-8

"It was good for me to be afflicted so that I might learn Your decrees.  The law from Your mouth is more precious to me than thousands of pieces of silver and gold."  
Psalm 119:71-72
The family is smiling on the dinner table.

This morn the hearse lifted the pall of hush
as white flowers rolled on wheels
lifting the spirit to heaven with the incense smoke
and the electric furnace like the magician
shrank the remaining kilos into neat pile of ashes
for the river to scatter to the sea of infinity
amid the silent prayer we're alive, long live the dead
the trudge back home where the count is one less
on the dinner table
mourning and celebrating.
 May 2017
Pax
A piece of my heart
has been sliced
to where its been crushed
to blend
something new.

I've grown to
understand
the big sea
to where I was
afraid of being aware
this might
happened
.
.
.
then, it already has
as so I let it be
for a time
that I never forgot
nor forgive
what they
did.

I know my flaws
are evident,
it is what makes
who I am, 'not perfect'
as I improved,
honed and
proved to feel
the understanding
of the big sea
but it doesn't mean
you can freely capture
someone's heart
to tear apart,
*a sincere poet
never steals the
life of others.
Not sure where to start, as to the poem itself speaks volume, I've been away from writing because of my busy schedule when i came back i found out that one or two of my work are stolen. I was never really a great writer to begin with as to i wonder why they would steal from me. And there's also stories that uses my quotes without crediting me, sigh... Perhaps this is the reality. sad, disappointed and distraught to myself, but everything is a risk, so posting in all writing/poetry sites, your words are bound to be stolen when someone liked it without you knowing it. sigh.... "i write not!" was one of the stolen.
 May 2017
ryn
It lurks at the back of your consciousness.
It dwells in the pit of your stomach.

It is strong.
Strong enough to exist -
behind the facade of calm demeanors.
Strong enough to swim against the currents
of indoctrinated beliefs of righteousness.
Strong enough to be the wrong amidst all rights.

It is the speaker for the voiceless.
It is the doer for the incapable.
It is the strength for the weak.
It is sweet escape for the trapped.

Listen...

It's there in the lull.
When all is quiet, you hear it.
Whispering, inciting, winning you over.

It will take you over.
It will steer the wheel.
But only if you want it just as much.
There's a little bit of evil in all of us.

Inspired by "Dexter", the tv series.
 May 2017
Ryan Holden
I see the violence,
I hear no laughter,
It's all faith to capture;
I can feel the rapture,
Disaster another chapter,
Darkness within these walls,
a fall,
No more buildings too tall.
Fire choking the young,
It's only just begun.
There's no sun,
We hear a bomb,
Run,
Innocent children,
Deprived of fun,

Shrapnel flying everywhere,
Smoky air,
Streets are bare,
It's all despair,
I feel the Animosity,
Subconsciously,
Knowing I'm dead probably,
We do this to our society,
Because we have religion and rivalry,
Violently, involved yet independently,
You walk so silently,
Scared of your own shadow frightfully,
Tirelessly,
With your messed up psychiatry,
That’s irony.
Restless Ramblings of a mind, that still doesn't understand why.
Quick succession rhyming used here. Some lyrics are taken from a rap I wrote, in similar context to what is happening in this sad, miserable world.
My mind has switched off
without giving me
any notice at all,

I find myself staring
into thin air,
I've blended into the wall.

My thoughts are blank,
I'm lacking motivation,
my inspiration is bleak,

I'm lethargic and dull,
I'm feeling very, very weak.

I'm not myself,
or maybe I am,

I'm beyond confused,
my soul is tired;
exhausted is what I am!

I want to cry,
but I 'm too tired,

I want to scream,
I'm frustrated;
I feel like
I need to be rewired.

I'm on edge,
my knees are shaking,

Sweaty palms,
my heart is breaking!

I'm never going to get
my **** together,

I've been trying
for what feels like
forever!

As tired as I am,
I know I'll never give in,

I'm too determined to quit,
even though I know
I'll never win.

My mind has switched off,
I can't figure anything out,

I'm full of emptiness,
I'm going through
an emotional drought.

I want to cry,
but I know my tears
are all in vain,

I'm mentally exhausted,
I feel a terrible sensation,
a mental strain;
a relentless
invisible internal pain.

By Lady R.F. (C) 2017
 Apr 2017
K Balachandran
rain abruptly stops,
water soaked trees take over,
on cycles it goes
 Apr 2017
ryn
Kiss me asleep
with your obsidian lips.

Protect my ears
from the cacophony nights would bring.

Fill the void
between heartbeats that skip.

Take me into the lull,
and into the siren song that you sing.
 Apr 2017
Brent Kincaid
My first friend was a big dog
A great big beautiful boxer.
His name was Duke; he loved me
Seemed prepared to stay forever,
Protecting me from any and all
In our house of anger and noise.
Two careless adults lived there
And no other girls or boys.

There was just the three of us;
I, the first child, and damaged,
Whose infancy was one of abuse,
Whose trust had been ravaged.
A child naturally cries sometimes
And irritates a self-centered dad
He can approach and gesture
And convince the dog he is mad.

Beloved friend, center of my world
Was gone from me the very next day.
Until I was an older child I was told
Dad raged then he took Duke away.
Duke didn’t know, nor did dad
That on that sad and scary day
Dad took not only my doggie friend
But he took trust in my dad away.

Duke was only doing his job, but
Dad saw it as a protective stance.
When that dog growled at him
He **** near peed in his pants.
“I won’t have a dog that threatens
Living in my own house with me!”
I know after living decades at home
What was threatened was dad’s authority.
 Apr 2017
Alyssa Switzer
Loud noises
Soft cries
Fake smiles
False lies

Badly beaten
Hearts broken
Watery eyes
****** knives

Scarred wrists
Shaky legs
Unspoken words
Bruised arms

Happiness ended
Pain unknown
This is the
Abusive "home"
Next page