Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
SwiftDreamer Mar 2015
I walk the path of my desires while learning how to walk.
I am ambitiously scared of the unknown; Yet, I leave my trust in it.
Echos behind me speak of failure, but I have no desire to listen
Until I realize what they really meant , beware of it
Some might leave it at that, But I can't treat this like a dog
The answer to life's riddle: *failure is success in fog
My first poem I made for this site. I haven't written one in a while, but i want to start writing everyday again so I want to stick to writing one everyday. I'm just pretty bad at sticking to things before it becomes a habit lol. I hope I can stick to making more.
Lore and Legend Oct 2018
Contentment: a state of happiness and satisfaction

Here again I find myself
Always longing, always seeking
Trying to add myself to life's bookshelf

Even when I obtain what I think I want
And it seems I should be happy where I am
Some OTHER longing shows its face and taunts

I ever find myself straining at the bit
Seeking something I cannot find
Forever feeding the fire ambitiously lit

But maybe what I have is beautiful to see
Maybe I should pause a moment and reflect
On all the joyous blessings already given to me
No matter where you are and what you are longing for, always remember where you started and how far you have come.
We live for the fat free vanilla cream coffee cups on mornings when we wake before the sun is up, and nights when the silence is trickling icy though. We live for Life. Such a small word, yet remains vague and unanswerable to many people.

A word which concurrently brings upon curiosity and fear inside a simple mind that continuously runs wild with questions. A word who’s meaning can only be defined as a never ending cliffhanger, leaving you with the gut aching suspense of a never resolved story.

We are all blinded by the light paved into the road we created ourselves. Some people look at what a flower has brought into their lives and cherish it, while others hide around a dark corner with harsh opinions and rationalizations. Around that corner a cold reality is approaching, causing a cherished life to be cut short.

That life though, it never dies. For before it shriveled up, it did something amazing. After that flower blossomed, a gust of determination carried it’s knowledge throughout the world to be seen as inspiration. Inspiration, and to once again ambitiously sprout.

We live for the little things that make life worth living. The people. The places. The words. The temporary confidence in knowing what comes next. The cliffhanger. The unwritten ending you’re so eager to place punctuation.
dant00ine Jan 2015
Observation. the act. a frenetic rat
turning the cheese around.
Twisted little turning fingers.

a scientist looks at two peas
in a pod, and deigns to his ******* child.

His spectacles reflect the world
and classify to a faulty eye.

As fingers manipulate the strings;
connected to divinity
or the prison-within-ity?

A man long flown towards freedom...
hanging high from the telephone line...

Triumphant introspection;
chains inwardly strewn;
a thrall to the matterless dark.

A slave to the unreal Master;
now free to plot against his enemies,
he curses the baker’s wife.

Turning the cheese around
the rat sniffs and inspects
with an eye for ratio,

a life applied ambitiously,
to the Holy cheese and gold trophies.

A ticket to the image of love
But how will he trust her fidelity?
The mail-order bride, she cries.
Derby Sep 2016
Firelight, ‘fading quickly from the quiet night,
O, fair queen,
Quell my fearful dreams, and
Be here while I fall asleep.

Flame
Slowly snuffs itself,
Choking for oxygen, so to stay alive,
But alas, at last, it dies.

No longer was her stay
Than but one phase,
As the moon hid away
Into the black.
A mockery in the sky,
She darkens the dusk, and
Passes us by as she tries to keep it alight.
But alas, at last, it dies.

As departs the dark,
Ambitiously arrives the day,
Who leaves but no need for fire’s blaze to stay.
Sunrise, sweetly presenting in sightly colour,
She slightly flutters
Peacefully
Into uniform blue,
And soon,
A new slate.

Last night, fire did fade swiftly,
Whistling wonderfully as her ungodly gasp failed to remain alive;
To keep alight.
O, she tried,
But alas, at last, it died.
And just as so, she and I.

But what is love?

Whether love for tomorrow
Or love for a night,
Love is love.
Right?
J Warren Sep 2013
The haggard lawn is tired of the long hot summer now September has arrived.
Its seedy moustache is no longer luxuriant, but wiry;
A snake-like thing that has ambitiously unfurled without the full quotient of chlorophyll.

It is time to offer the sward the privilege of a cut.
Man moves towards machine, assuming simplicity.
But mower is asleep and will not fire.

At first he tries the simple fixes; fuel is present, spark plugs in place.
But the horticultural haircut remains undone,
As the tease of utility leads him to try louder, less sensitive approaches.

Meanwhile, the rotary monster relishes its narcoleptic interlude,
And the grass grows on.
UnderDog Feb 2015
Unwanted pressure and desire to please
like a infectionous transmitted disease
Ambitiously always seeking approval
but yet always ends up on the bitterness removal

''Fitting in'' is their only goal
always clouding their judgemental souls
-UnderDog
Amanda Blomquist Jan 2013
Stability Unstable,
    Like the ocean tides,
            Connected only through the shift in seasons.
I'm tangled in the intricacies of life.
Alone, I watch the way things move;
How a smile between strangers is pure
How quirkiness is a form of building walls
      Blissfully waiting to burst at the first sign of reality
Underlying emotions shifting every second,
      Deeper into the unknown
I walk on broken steps without perception
My head held captive in the clouds
Without care of destination,
      Yet striving to arrive
Lost between here and there
Well composed
       Slowly witty
             Brightly burnt out
       Ambitiously un-motivated
Spirit trapped in body
      Body trapped by mind
An oxymoron of unconscious awareness
Tony Scallo Aug 2013
Life. Such a small word, yet remains vague and unanswerable to many people. A word which concurrently breeds curiosity and fear inside a simple mind that continuously runs wild with questions. A word who’s meaning can only be defined as a never ending cliffhanger, leaving you with the gut aching suspense of a never resolved story. Controlling our lives like a marionette puppet with the strings being attached to the four characters L, I, F, and E. But alas, we are all blinded by the light paved into the road we created ourselves. A cracked road filled with the seeds of our generation, aided in growth from our blinded light with ambitions of reaching the sun. We give our seeds a warm reality, which sparks the blossom it’s wanted to expose to the world, the reason it was given a chance as a seed to begin with. Some people look at what that flower has to brought into their lives and cherish it, while others hide around a dark corner with harsh opinions and rationalizations. Around that corner a cold reality is approaching, causing a cherished life to be cut short. That life though, it never dies. For before it shriveled up, it did something amazing. After that flower blossomed, a gust of determination carried the seeds of it’s knowledge throughout the world to be seen as inspiration. Inspiration, and to once again ambitiously sprout from the crack in the road we’ve so blindly created.
M Oct 2013
I've never felt the melancholy of being broken hearted
I've never cried because things ended before they started
I've never had my heart shattered by a **** I once loved
I've never been preciously owned then suddenly shoved
I've never regretted wasting time for someone not worth it
I'm still a finished puzzle, never been incomplete
Feeling fortunate and desiring both at heart's beat
Craving to call someone mine and feel revocable by love
It's typical to be jealous of others ambiences
Especially if behind every sorrow is happiness
But love is an obstacle and with every obstacle is a reward
The strength to keep going and ambitiously move forward
So am I lucky, is this just a phase?
*Or is love something I've been missing out on?
First decent poem. I realized how much effort and time is put into every poem. This is fun.
Marília Galvão Sep 2015
"The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable."

Invasive?
Doesn't a deep gaze carry
numerous hooks disguised as unpretentious interrogation marks?
They're faster than the blink of the eyelids,
ambitiously break into the one in front,
stealing something
not for sale in the first place.

But, you just wanted to know
...just wanted to know that sparkling little piece of life behind the curtains of the iris
Then you suddenly find yourself apologizing
It was not your intention to set your noxious questions free,
hooks of someone else's life

Vulnerable?
You smell the eyes in front of you,
You see they can effortlessly listen to your thoughts, which have been screaming anyway, from the windows, of your soul.
Even those ignored little parts insist on showing off

You can almost physically feel it,
streams of dense water travelling
from the very core of your cells,
going up your veins,
holding your breath for a second when passing through your throat,
until it finally reaches your pupils' edge,
where they can bluster it out
and it's gone!
You're left with the hope
that the eyes in front of you haven't seen the spectacle.
concept from http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com
Sal Gelles Jun 2013
When you're roaming down that old dirt road of ambition,
remember all that ambition you're leaving there in the dirt.
While that road carries you down another hill towards some hiatus,
that space where you'll think you feel safe with what you've got
left inside of you.

And as you pass the different paths you could've taken,
rather than turning off this old dirt road you've ambitiously wandered,
think of all the times you'd just had that one decision to make.
How, now, as you walk on past yet another, all those paths you eyed
and left behind you.

After you've thought about the time of this exploration of ambition
that you've nearly given all but up on, keeping that goal in mind,
just think about the chances you really have taken on your own happiness,
your own levity of your ambition, and those hoarse decisions you made
to get outside yourself.
We wake up with a dream
Intentions
Ambitions
Ignition

We dig
We plough
We ambitiously row

But that idea you had will fade
From sunlight into the shade
We will all be the jester and never the king
As reality bites
I am nothing

JJB
Clem Nov 2016
I am a motherless neonate
I am lapping up dew
with my forked tongue
I am sliding my plated belly
over the cool wet grass

I am entirely my own
I am scouting out rabbit dens
ambitiously
I am engulfing beauty
with my deep, long belly

I am a parentless subadult
I am basking out
under a full white moon
I am flicking out
my black-tipped tongue

I am an unashamed *******
I am unperturbed in my solitude
I am studied only in myself;

In another life, perhaps,
the sudden ruffle of leaves
to the left
would stir me
but here in my reptilian hide,
I am unflinching

I am a motherless neonate
and I blame
no one
Danielle Rose Oct 2013
A moment in your eyes could stay sketched in mind timelessly
The power your piercing gaze holds makes my mind crumble translating to stutters
of expressionless wonders
Intensity keeps a smile from forming
Feelings spike to shock and speechlessness
As layer by layer I begin unfolding until naked and completely unraveled
A surrender that kept me motionless
I want to run
I want to hide
But I'm left clinging to your sleeve heaving
As I morn the loss of the self I once fit into comfortably
I almost unwillingly dispelled the anchor that held me down
and drifted until my tired body felt the sand of safe grounds
It was your island
It was your stability
It was all recognized when you took my hand with great agility
I sat in tears letting the gold fall through my hands
Watching it glisten as my foot prints trailed along
I took time to kiss the new land I stand upon
Then looked up ambitiously with anew strength ready to explore
Siouxsie Gagne Feb 2018
Your name is a song that my heart sings
Our personal symphony
It gives my soul wings
The epitome of harmony
Lyrics of joyful things
I strain to hear more, ambitiously
Of the plucked strings
Which play a tune of felicity
A poem of a better mood. There are admittedly some half rhymes in there haha.
Cole Silvers Dec 2013
The sweet nothings aren't nothing,
each a drop within the ocean.

They precipitate ambitiously with each anda every heartfelt notion.

You feel so right, so I reel with no fight, every second of your light astounds me it's real life.

© Cole Silvers
Quettevio Mar 2017
my kind of guy is quiet, sort of,
my kind of guy wears long-sleeve striped shirt,
my kind of guy has voice so warm and encouraging it makes me feel brave,
my kind of guy listens to ed sheeran and sam smith and knows i love kelly clarkson,
my kind of guy wears black shoes on daily basis like a charm,
my kind of guy gives me a bottle of water when i was dehydrated without i even realized,
my kind of guy saves the hardest thing for himself,
my kind of guy sacrifices his own freedom for a friend,
my kind of guy is ambitiously calming,
my kind of guy babbles non-sense and laughs at his own jokes,
my kind of guy receives a scholarship and is an internal field coordinator at student council,
my kind of guy loves to listen to people like it's the bestest thing to do,
my kind of guy has the kindest eyes and smile so endearing, the kind of smile that doesn't take away your breath but grows the even bigger smile on your face,


my kind of guy is him,
my kind of guy is the kind of guy
i don't deserve.
Barton D Smock Jul 2012
I am reading
about a piano
when you begin
to play.  

-

I will continue
to wish
you were dying.

-

you say
to pictures

me, before I was taken.

-

you have one story involves a failed grenade.
I wish two, you wish
ambitiously
none.

-

forgive me, death, I am drunk.
sober, I sell doormats.

-
  
in our imaginings
gutted baseballs

became

the skulls of small animals
through which the wind

called heads.

-

in daytime, you inspect
a dark stone.  you tell me it could take

all night.  

-

in heaven’s garage
they’ve yet to make
a horn
that works.

-

if I leave, it is to write this poem.
Tony Scallo Aug 2013
Written to my girlfriend, after a single rose I had given her managed to stay alive and flower long after it was supposed to die*

Our lives differ no less than from a flower
What keeps us apart is it’s destined power
A power that starts its life as a seed
Seeking the light and the love it will need
Ambitiously growing with hopes to one-day find
A reason for living, leaving inevitability behind
For a flower is subjected to a cycle of life
Experiencing the inevitables of love, death and strife.
Some flowers have a will power of their own
To stall their cycle, having death remain unknown
For when that flowers see’s something that it likes
It will hold out for longer, no matter what strikes
Like being brought into love, a flower holds out longer
To see the relationship grow, and get even stronger
Watching two people connect, with no strings attached
Seeing true love unfold, remaining unscratched
Satisfied it holds out, even through the death of it’s flower
Pushing itself to stay alive, even if for an hour
For it has hope for someone, so it must reply
By showing us beauty in something, will never die
Using it’s last bit of strength, to be optimistic
It starts to grow again, as if it were mystic
Leaving two lovers to be astounded by this miracle
They put aside their differences, until they are wrinkled
These flowers of course are brought to us by fate
To show us beauty in our love, before it’s too late
Helseivich May 2014
Forgotten in the lust of the moment
His memories dissipate in the warmth of her movements
Her swaying curves encompass his mind
And her heated breaths eradicate his conscience

Her whispers illustrate his inner thoughts as she bares her skin
While his hands ambitiously caress her natural self
Recalling betrayal, his grip on her vices tightly for an instant in time
As she sensually digs her lips and teeth into his neck

The lights dance with feverish passion in their ambivalent escapade
As his memories ignite into a collective blaze of clouded lies
Her voice breaks the atmosphere with a powered summoning of excitement
While the bladed steel in his back pocket speaks to him briefly

Frozen like ice, the edged iron derails his controlled contemplation
Heated like flame, her crimson lips reassuringly invite his aged soul into her dimension of hellfire
Confliction between two halves disperse the balance within his plane of existence
Differing feelings unable to become one

Failure to merge two views of life
Alongside inability to accept separation of what was once whole
Leads to an amalgam of bewilderment and hatred deep inside the darkest corners of deception
The triggered fuse detonates inappropriately with his free hand now attached to the hilt of silver

Shadowed recollections of the others' tears invoke his fury with every stab
Purest inhibitions of hidden urges shatter sustained reality with every slice
Broken trust of ill-fated bonds reverse his mentality with every gush of blood
Tainted sight of misperceived intentions annihilate his reasoning with every anguished scream of her voice

Collapsed, her distorted body lay lifeless and unrecognizable on the carpet floor of the room
Scarlet liquid of distilled life now dripping menacingly from the edges of his manifested insanity
Hazy emotions interrupt his logic as he stumbles away from the scene he attempted to avoid
While erroneously dropping the reddened murderer to the floor with a crash
Sometimes, you can't really tell who—or what—is at fault.

March 2012.
Adam Mott Apr 2015
Great letters sprawled out
Upon the sky they lay
Cold and small
Hypocritical in description and nature
Awaiting times of heroes and danger
With rhythm and without

The long echoing halls of time ponder their shouts
Beneath the sea where the creatures hunt
Above the mountains and giant's guts
Through the very core of the earth
Above the lover's hearth

With a flash of blinking light an epic journey begins
Handed to parents in garb of red and shine
With a snip you are free
Free to go
To make mistakes and learn things which you yourself think it worth to know

Little hands grasping your guardians
Growing, learning, as the world sets about wearing you thin
Paths opening and spiraling out
Leading to new horizons of joy and doubt
Heartbreak, big and small

With your pup you sing
"Goodbye toys, goodbye ball"
"Goodbye childhood, goodbye home"
Before you know it you have done your best to let go,
All on your own
Nothing to your name but memories and hope

School and work, the risks you take
If you are strong, a life you will make
With vigor and fury could you find and ask a person to stay?
Married and happy, kids on the way
A dog, a house, a mortgage to pay
Ambitiously vague, forever wishing to live in these days

The kids follow your path, tried and true
Growing and singing,
"Goodbye toy, goodbye ball"
"Goodbye parents, goodbye familiar halls"
"Talk to you later Ma and Pa"
Off they go, to the great unknown
And without time at all
"Return
A family of their own

For golden years you and yours will bask in life
Christmas, Easter, Halloween too
Florida when it's cold, Home when it is not
Restrictions of funds lessened and gone
Your body now frail and old
Savoring each laugh, remembering each transition
Summer to Fall
Warm and dear, you cling to it all


And one day, with that same flashing light you will go out,
Transported someplace new
For a journey without the mortal coil which once confined you
A new unknown to sing about
Arcassin B Sep 2016
By Arcassin Burnham


Certainly,
Mercy Me,
Perfect cemetery,
Tendencies,
To overthrow what you see in me,
Throw me to the Wolves out on the street,
They'll never change, that's why I'm good to people that I meet,
My energy,
Ambitiously,
Freezing stress to your toes and knees,
You thought you saw what you didn't see,
Like disguising teeth,
From my mouth I speak from the land of the living like revolutionaries
While legends die and leave they're marks on earth for peace,
You follow me?
Certainly,
Mercy Me,
Perfect cemetery,
Tendencies,
To overthrow what you see in me,
Throw me to the Wolves out on the street,
They'll never change, that's why I'm good to people that I meet,
From my head to my feet,
You're so cheap, so is talk,
Also all your flock of bees,
Buzzing round me like care , I can not see,
Brushed my cheek,
I got too much on my mind and I got memories o' plenty,
I'm am not your special entertainment in here to appease,
Mercy Me.
©ABPoetry2016
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/09/mercy.html
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2018
In every moment, don't forget to smile.
Do pray to feel the first kiss of every breath.
And in each moment I'll return the favor.
Covering the picture of your face.
Frame to frame.
Our eyes the glass that protects each memory.
A sweet smile that becomes the entrance of life itself.
Ambitiously half lifted eyes crinkled around the corners.
In every moment, don't forget to smile
and I'll return the favor.
Life is too short to let these moments go in vain
argus Feb 2015
I've got it!
I found the answer!
Go home everyone, for the world is lucid to me and so it shall be to you
(if you purchase my book for $49.99 and manage to trudge through my ambitiously pompous cacophony of prophetic nonsense).
Javi Claycombe Apr 2018
I am most happy when I live life fully and ambitiously. When the pursuit of my goals are met with accomplishments, and when you have undoubtable faith in not only yourself, but in us as a team.

I love you endlessly and passionately, so much so that at times it frightens me how much I love you, but with that being said all you need to know is that I happily embrace the fear.

You are both a mystery and lifelonged companion to me. You amaze me as much as you frustrate me, and I without question, would give up the world for you.

I love you and I'm very sorry.

So **** tomorrow and every tomorrow that may come after it, but know this, I will live today and every other today is happily as I possibly can, with you.
Zen Dog Apr 2018
I wonder if a moth has ever tried to fly to the moon,
I wonder if she dreamt of it while asleep in her cocoon,
Ambitiously flapping and seduced by the light,
Of that yellow moon shining, enticingly bright.
I wonder if she tempted all the perils of the sky,
I wonder if she conquered all the limits of her mind,
Certainly, she made it.. At least one can dream,
To believe that the impossible is closer than it seems.
I might need professional help
Or is it normal when your belt
Suddenly break when u mis-calculate
Your weight while hanging yourself

Or attempting, which like my dad tells
"I can't do anything efficiently"
I fail at everything I do ambitiously
And my Consolation: ..consistency

So again my wrists'll bleed
But scar it  leaves is nothing more
All it is, is what was hid, in a kid wit
wrists like a cutting board does

But those attempts cause floods
And moms **** about the tub
And toilets staying clean, so out
Of respect I await the bus

That's late, so my date was
Post poned, so I guess preparation
To jump infront of a bus splattered
Then scattered like decoration

Failed makin me impatient,for expiration So to the subway station
I go , Hoping this time'll be,
the final scene Where my destination

Will send me violently on vacation
Where depression no longer says
I'm not a voice in your head,
I'm just a choice that was lead

By the appeal of being dead
&sto;; wishing someone would love
Who I am, instead of hatin who I was
No more feelin, im never good enough

But as I edge closer a dumb *****
Good Samaritan complex witnessed
The inception of my intentions
then Crept in my business

But sayin I want to jump which I didn't
They would lock me up in an instant
Without a shoe lace&like; I'm two faced I lied with persistence

That I wasn't gonna jump, and
Quickly left disappointed
Now having to re-schedule wit Death, and make a new appointment

So I brainstorm, and aim for
A place my blood will stain floors
After my blood from veins pour
About suicide I'm **** as gay ****

////////

I can't believe after all the time spent
thinking bout How to host
And envision The Idea that had risen
To help my transition into a ghost

But as my mom yelled from another
Room make sure the garage is closed
When u leave, it came to me
And all I needed was a hose

So I laughed and said don't worry
Mom when I leave I promise
The garage will closed, I swear on my life, God I'm funny, so once I wrote

A rather humorous suicide note
That read: "See mom just like I said
When I swore on my life, the garage would closed Before I left"

I think she'll get a laugh from that,
I thought as one end of the hose
Was inserted into the tail pipe of the
Car id turn on once I closed

The garage, and inserted the other end in the window, and yes
I don't recommend giving up like me but for me I guess

Saying Goodbye cruel world let's
Me escape depression and stress
So the broken heart in my chest
Finally gets much needed rest

But did I die with success
So I can say: yes: I finally did
succeed, at something, but if so
Dummy I wouldn't be writing u this
daniel f Sep 2016
Coming up for air

All manner of characters congregate in airport terminals, there's simply no scene sweeter than a lovesick twenty something staring intently at the door arrivals stroll through. A dozen red roses in hand, and a palatable sense of anticipation and to think, they say romance is dead. I would sit at my desk and watch the same stories play out at least a dozen times a week. The international student, the hopelessly devoted and but of course the people bound by babies and obligation. The spectrum of human emotions on display is by far the most attractive aspect of my occupation, I use the term occupation loosely. I enjoyed talking and asking and watching the smiling faces. If anyone tells you airports are depressing places they've clearly never spent too much time seated outside arrivals it's impossible (for me at least) to not feel lifted by another's joy, call it osmosis.



To most ambitiously minded young people, there is little sense of anticipation for a life lived ordinarily, who dreams of excel spreadsheets? Who tells themselves that in fifteen years time they will pass the same faces from school in shopping centres or swimming pools without batting an eye lid. Though for the lucky few born where they can stay without fear of hunger, persecution or poverty it is hard to appreciate properly the advantages they are born with. It's easy to look past the place you call home. You spend forever thinking of distant lands with foreign food without ever really giving any time to appreciate the place you were born, the satellite town off an anonymous motorway people have traversed continents to call there new home.  It always amazes me how as the people, living with the fruit of centuries worth of social progress, still yearn and complain incessantly. I suppose it's a collective cross to bare for all concerned, we who were lucky enough to be born here, take for granted the things people leave lives behind for. Technological advances have created an almost impossible situation to anyone who happened to live and did before the Internets inception. The almost instantaneous access to news and information has not expanded intelligence or fuelled fires of deep interest, a constant access to news has only served to harden us significantly to the world in which we inhabit. I think it would be short sighted and remarkably naive to say we are the first of human kind to grow complacent, admittedly it's not great but it's a lot closer than it was for anyone before us.  For some it takes a flirtation with disaster, or the loss of a loved one to realise exactly how little we appreciate exactly what we have, for me at least it was a few months working in an airport.

— The End —