Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Him Feb 2021
I'm laying in my bed, staring at the ceiling. You're staying in my head, and I can't shake these feelings.

My every word and deed, confesses that you are my need; love has sown her seed, and from it roots my heart bleeds.

I'm laying in my bed, while you're laying in my head, and so this tragedy begins. Might someone please rid Shakespeare of his pen, and let this story come to its end?

The tempest winds are blowing strong, I am slowing falling down; I feel that I am suffocating underneath water, but I can't seem to drown.

My heart can't get any sleep, causes it speeds up its beat, when I tell you that I love you... but you don't repeat.

I am staring at the ceiling, imagining that you are staring back, and for now... I am content with that.
Swan Songs Feb 2021
I’ve got some money and a swag and a gun – and my lover
My lover and I are on the run
We changed our hair, our clothes, our names, we’re undiscovered
But she cannot escape the things I’ve done

Oh, my Daisy Dunne

I’m thinking to myself, “I think I love her”
But not half as much as I’m scared I’ll lose control
So I hold that naïve girl and tell her I love her
Out of fear she might forsake my aching soul

‘Cause I can’t bear the thought of hanging from the rope all on my own
I’m trying to take her to Heaven with me but I’ll burn in Hell alone
Me and Daisy Dunne will run into the angry setting sun
But we cannot outrun the things I’ve done

We’re hiding out in a shack by the sea with my little brother
At half my age he’s twice the man I’ll be
But I see the way he looks at my lover
And I killed the last man who tried to take her from me

I shot him dead and then we fled, but his eyes still stare at me
Now my lover screams from in her dreams while I lie awake listening
Me and Daisy Dunne are one, until the judgement of kingdom come
Until they hang me from my neck for what I’ve done

Oh, my days are done

Please, will someone spare the truth from my poor mother?
Don’t you tell her what befell her eldest son
You can tell her all about my lovely lover
But do not let Mum know the man that I’ve become
I just wish she could have met my Daisy Dunne

One fateful night I caught Daisy’s eye, she was giving me a silent plea
Then I saw some light and I decided it was time for me to set her free
But my Daisy Dunne she took my gun and killed a man who was chasing me
And now she’s standing beside me here at the gallows tree

(As they lower the hood over evil and good, the last things we will see
Are my longing stare and her accusing glare, and it suddenly occurs to me
I have no way of knowing where it is I’m going, but I have the distinct feeling:
Whatever is next, my Daisy will not be there with me
And I could have used my last words to tell her that I’m sorry)
I've had a string of nightmares
All following a theme
The kind that speaks to truths
That live outside of my dreams
They show me sudden twists
Tragedy, this horror's name
In instants how all life can leave
How all light can leave the brain

Tonight's dream, I was surrounded with friends. We parked in a remote spot surrounded by thick trees. Tall brown trunks extending upward, dark green vines and moss descend from the hidden ceiling, and dead leaves cover the ground in shades of green, yellow, orange, and brown, hiding thick roots we try not to trip over.

In the distance as we push through the forest with enthusiasm, I begin to hear the soft fluctuating static of waves crashing onto a sandy shore somewhere beyond the trees. My dreaming mind made no words, but I remember the conversations clearly for how they made me feel. I loved this group. I felt we had gone through a great deal of time together, and despite recognizing no faces, they all felt so familiar and so dear to me.

Almost all at once the leafy ground turned to sand. We had reached the beach we were headed for, and grey skies extended to the horizon over dark bluish green waters. This part of the dream is hazy. We quickly got into the water, but they pressured me to swim deeper. Rather than be alone or hold them back, I swam out, but my heart sunk looking down. Something about not being able to see the floor filled me with panic... so I kept my eyes on my friends and eventually we went back to shore.

Now I remember something strange. A feeling of deja vu. A feeling that I had had this dream before, and that something bad was about to happen.. but the four of us were so happy. Someone I felt was my best friend, another I felt I was in love with, and the last someone we all cherished equally, the smallest of the group.

We walked back into the forest, this time on a path. The spirit of adventure filled all of us, and we couldn't help but run along it, embracing the forest as a playground we had to ourselves. At one point I remember climbing a tree, as the one I loved climbed one near me. As we ascended, suddenly my stomach dropped again, and I was filled with dread. The world froze.

I recognized it. This was it. I remembered her face from when I dreamed this before. The angle I was looking at her from. Her next move would destroy her balance and send her falling.. a fall she'd never get back up from. I yelled for my best friend as time resumed, and he ran to just below us. I looked at his face looking up with concern, and felt momentarily relieved that maybe I could change this outcome.. momentarily..

In an instant my love was falling, and I felt my heart stop with anticipation.. she fell onto him.. he tried to catch her.. but when they collided there was a sickening crack. She slowly got up, but then began to scream, as we both took in what was happening. My best friend lay there motionless, except for his eyes. He attempted to speak some words.. but I knew he had no control of his lungs. He couldn't even look at me.. even though I knew he was trying.. and after some seconds of agony.. he evaporated into glimmering golden specs of dust. Everything that made him him was gone.. what was left was a corpse.

The horror of that moment woke me
And I was glad it was only a dream
But even though it never really happened
I still remember the horrible sights and sounds of that scene
What a terrible tragedy
To be robbed of crucial time
To come to terms that somebody's leaving
And instead have to jump to the end of the line

The worst of all might be having no enemy to blame.. the final grain from the hourglass.. fell from an accident.. a tragedy.
86 lines, 323 days left.
maia mischa Feb 2021
tragedies – an heir to all
the mess inside those walls
i can still recall

lunged in anger, seized with fear
oh, what have you done
i tried to leave the thoughts behind
but i couldn't run

black silhouettes, tragic memories
now i'm in constant doubt
am i ready for this?
12/09/18
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2021
The human mind
and the human heart
~
Curiosity
and the scent of a woman
~
Omaha Beach
and the poisoned sky
~
Technology
and the rhythm method
~
Morse Code
and one too many icebergs
~
Mighty dollar
and what is never laid to rest
~
The human mind
and the human heart
Gary Cuming Feb 2021
Shimmering lights dance in her eyes
Shimmering lights cannot dispel
Like the fire inside my soul
A cold darkness that grasps at my soul
A velvet touch cannot disguise
Persistent beeps, and sanitised smells
Two hearts that yearn to be whole
Infesting a heart that I stole

Beneath the fabric of power and love
Unfaltering floors with a sinister gleam
Sensations fulfil every void
Stare through me with revulsion rejoiced
Two foolish lives surpass and evolve
Machines fall foul with a ghoulish scream
Through a union that can’t be destroyed
All my words collide
Gravity tears inside
All hope, all prayers unvoiced

Shadows retreat from snow filled days
Anaesthetic smiles surround my dreams
Crisp and clean, our futures laid bare
As my heart rips my throat and my core
Eternity whispers, forever always
Abandoned and lost, and torn at the seams
Together; everyday; everywhere.
Alone, broken, defeated, no more
Lyn-Purcell Jan 2021

The wistful beauty
thrives with her mask of legend
Touched by tragedy


Small haiku from my journal. 💜🌹
I feel a bit better today. I find myself reading more and more about the legendary Marilyn Monroe. Shes such a captivating figure.
The one thing I truly admire about her is her strength.
She moved and soldiered ahead even with all that happened to her.
Like the rest of us, she too had her fair share of triumphs and tragedies.
But I must say, her mask of Marilyn is so potent. Marilyn is whom we love yet its Norma Jean who's always left behind. In the shadow of a mask she created. To live up to that image of being a goddess must have been so difficult. I have an inordinate amount of respect for her.
I hope she is resting in peace.
Sweet Norma, I'll always keep a good thought for you
I've ordered another Marilyn book which should be here too, I look forward to reading it. Stay safe everyone!
Much love!
Lyn ***
Sonorant Jan 2021
Descry the glittering sand,
Every coin is vestal, unused.
He cast unto the well,
Uttering a spell
That dwindled on his aching lips.

Amiss, his voice does not graze
Her conscious divination.
A thousand times again,
He strives-
Just for a spare thought.

But the fool, consumed, controlled
Wallows in the walls
She sculpts around him.

He begins to work away the vines
Of her honied tendrils.
Yet, each finger twined of gossamers,
Drenched in delirium.

Nay, she rejects his presence.
But grants her endless visitations
As a specter, with a Faustian kiss.

He drinks of her,
To parch his arid throat.
Remote, he holds the seed
Which festers within.
Forever.
Life always felt too short,
Like our plans exceeded time itself.
Longer was never long enough, I knew.
Half-truths turned into calamities forgotten on the shelf.

The importance of being free.
Absent from my own life,
Free myself from the gravity.

Just another masterpiece
Ending in a tragedy.
Next page