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Rhiannon Clare Jan 2015
There were Chinese lanterns at New Year
when it was so cold the fireworks froze in the air,
bursts of red and silver beside the dazzling lights
of London. From our perch on Parliament Hill
we stood, anonymous in the crowd,
looking down at the giddy world
and at the final minute of the year it
was just you and I
and then it started to snow.
Families let off the slow moving lanterns,
children held them tight in their hands- but
they were pulling, pulling
caught by the night wind, their ghostly silhouettes
drifted up and up,
til they became stars themselves to us.
They were moments of peace against the
busy noise of the city,
softly golden, trustingly floating further and further.
I didn't know that you too would soon be gone
and nothing I could say would change your mind.

If I had thought to then
I would have made a wish on each lantern I saw
rising like a thousand spirit kings above the earth.
I would have wished and wished,
and sent my heart out there too:

I will always remember
the soft chills of snow beginning to fall
and the quiet beauty of those Chinese lanterns.
I will remember your hand slipping into mine,
and the silent slide of that year
into the past, yes,
I will remember.
Written 2010
Traveler Nov 2018
When this madness first set in
It only made sense
To search out a good diagnostician
Trustingly sharing my story
With strangers with degrees
Quickly realizing no clinician  
Could fix what's alien me

I search for someone wise and trained
Instead I found myself slowly drowning
In a system of judgmental rain  
My very heart and soul an open subject
Sharing my uncommon delusions
Over and over explaining
My poetic conclusions

Yet those who have never ever lived a rhyme
Are prone to leave the unexplained behind
Who simply label you from a book
Quickly stop reading and give you that look
A book of broken soul’s
They write ya a prescription and send ya home
............................................................­...................
Traveler Tim
(Honestly don't remember writing this)
Bekah Halle Sep 18
The rain,
makes my grass glow fluorescent green,
and grow like it’s on steroids.

Love,
makes my heart a mix of hyper-serene,
like out-of-water chimaeroids.

How do we ride these natural phenomena?
Trustingly —
Brent Kincaid May 2016
I listen to the whine of time
That goes in a line, a climb,
A silent sign wave; fine
Resonant and resilient,
Nearly sentient, it reminds
Of times of meditation,
Of peaceful celebration
Like music with no beat,
No melody and no lyrics
No clerics can well describe.

Whatever remains of before
I ignore; ideas like yesterday
Which is to say tomorrow,
Bring no sorrow here, no joy.
They are a ploy to change,
To rearrange the apogee
Of this lovely inner symphony
And bribe me with self-pity
In sympathy with some dream
Which once made me scream.

I imbibe in the circumstance,
A chance to muse on forever;
Words like never and regret
I forget and only think of serenity.
A rarity; an affinity with infinity
Entices me to surrender instantly
Serendipitously and trustingly,
Just me and the universe
Chapter and verse, still unwritten,
Unbidden, I surrender.
I want to sleep on the surface tension of your perilous love. Willingly submitting my entire being on a paper-thin layer, separating me from your overwhelming abyss. Trustingly allowing my heart, as it falls off my chest, to be consumed by your drowning affection.
Tina Kay Grant Mar 2014
It's hilarious
Just think about our past...
the disadvantageous arguments
Arguments about things that we would soon know
It taught us about the future

We were disconnected, probably still are
Just because of closed hearts and minds...
And I'm not afraid to say, a little jealousy on my part...
We were young and thought we knew everything about each other.
We were disconnected, yet deep down in our unknowingly vast souls, we were the same.
I was thinking about those fights we used to have...
I reminisced about the day after your tenth birthday, when we were walking to school and you felt older, much like you do know, you felt proud to be older, I remembered that I was jealous and insisting that you were being mean. I remember your face when I said these things, and I felt guilty, you have one of those enforcing faces that told me that I was wrong.

I remember that one day we were fighting one morning at the bus stop, as we always did. After school, you fought Benny, remember him? We hadn't made amends yet, but I knew that you needed my support, and frankly, I needed yours... so I cried because I felt helpless but you stared trustingly straight into my soul, creepily I might add, and you told me to kick that **** in the face... but I trusted your judgment because you're my older brother and I love you! to this day I don't know if I actually kicked him, but I do remember that we ran home and we were as close as we'd ever been.

I remember those times, and I can't help but laugh, and smile, and cry.
I feel like lately our relationship has been kind of forced because we HAD to get along... but I feel like, if we talk more, like we used to... we could get our groove back. :)

I know this isn't a very rhythmic poem... but
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I love you Ethan!
chimaera Dec 2015
For you,
i slowly
unwinded time
to hand you
a thread,

the labyrinth
where you
trustingly
unravel your heart.

For you,
i hush the spindle
in my empty hands
that will weave
no more,

the thread this whirl,
and i fade,
as i let
time rewind.
15.12.2015
Loosely inspired on the myth.
Ignatius Hosiana Aug 2015
She'll probably never know the depth of my affection
Because I too hasn't come close to its discovery
She doesn't realize how much I crave her attention
That her absence is illness and her presence recovery
She cannot tell the thing that loves her is just close
Because her favorite obsession is miles away
The reason behind her Heart's closed doors
So that desolation is her annual pay and she underscores whatever I say
She might never realize that true love was underneath her eyes
While she strained them peering beyond the horizons
Yet that far can cloak in the skin of  truth, lies
But I understand every beating Heart's got her own reasons
She might never feel the warmth of my passion
Because she trustingly and truly belongs to a better person
MsAmendable Aug 2015
Tender cat
Delicately ponders
Lovingly sits
Playfully wanders
Carefully prances
Silently advances
Enamouredly dances
Eating my glasses...
Cautiously stalks
Trustingly snuggles
My cat (:
Rhea Bryan Nov 2014
Naive
Gullible
Ignorant



Meaningless to you, are the few morals I care to
Voice to you.  
        Trust-   The little that was there just got swept up
By the lies or misrepresented information you so
   Proudly And adamantly Assured me were to be true

Who are you to decide the outcome of my body?

You can not trick me into doing things your way.
      
    .... It's my fault, for being so gullible  and trustingly
With something so precious as another life being
Brought into this ****** up and twisted world

It takes two to tango and you do not get to dangle
Me around and control me like a ******* puppet

**** it

I  not overreacting--
     How dare you speak of instructions or give me
Advice- and it be untrue??
      Perhaps I would not jump to accusation
If you did not become immediately defensive and
   Try to convince me to have your way of thinking!

Deception
    It's all becoming
So clear.


Accusation
    And admissions of your little games.

Now you are playing with tiny lives and unborn souls

Emotions are now frozen.

     I am not as dumb as you may think

This ship is about to sink.    

To be honest- judging by your actions it may
Already have sunk
      Now this raft is deflating

As your respect and common sense is depleting

And my common sense seeps out

just as my heart bleeding...



11-30-2014
Rhea Bryan
Rant chronicles
How often have I shouted you down
Hurling words of absolute certainty
Against the softness of your sweet face?
Sending shards of shame
As sharp as slivered glass
Into the moist, pink pleading of your heart?

How harshly have I rejected
The silent questions flowing
From pools of blue water
Feeling only my own self-centered
And childish need?

How trustingly you turned day after day
Seeking the light of love.
How frequently did the ice of denial and distraction
Freeze your soul, sending you fleeing
To worlds better left untouched?

How can God love this soul of mine,
This very soul that caused so much pain?

How can you?

Thank God for Love
Thank God for you

Forgiveness is the foremost lesson in life.

I forgive them.

You forgive me.

God forgives us all.
Jenny March Mar 2013
in my hands I hold
the remains of a gift
once freely given
and received unprotestingly

this gift, the only thing worth
giving. pure, whole.
the only thing to offer.
given willingly, prayerfully,
trustingly.

it was meant to be cherished
respected, protected.
nurtured and grown.

then my trust was betrayed,
broken, abandoned

now I feel I can never,
ever let someone promise to
cherish and protect me

for now I find
that all that remains,
are remains

JCM 2013 ©
Darren Scanlon Aug 2015
How can a lie
make the whole world cry,
yet they claim there is nothing to see,
where nefarious knaves
and the covetous crave
beneath covers so stealthily, free?

No thought for the plebs
as they weave dangerous webs
in a world already complex,
where the sins of the saints
have done nothing but taint,
confuse, deceive and perplex.

To forgive and forget,
is to aid and abet
the demons, content in their ways,
as they deftly defile
and sneeringly smile
at the lies from our earliest days.

To be taught as a child,
there is one who beguiles;
a one that is two and then three,
is a criminal act
and insidious pact
to enslave the ones who were free.

Our children were taught
not to give a clear thought
as to how it was all s’posed to work,
so they trustingly took
from the ones who forsook
and replied with barely a smirk.

They were used and abused,
bewildered, confused,
then cast aside on their quest,
told to get on with life
under threat of the knife,
for the Robed Ones always knew best.

And the tears and the cries
from damp bloodshot eyes,
can be seen again and again
as the torment goes on,
from The Father to Son,
leaving streaks of soul numbing pain.

So when will it end;
when can children depend
on the adults they were once taught to trust?
When will all the lies,
causing deep hidden cries,
be brought to the men who are just?

Let them rattle the cage
with a long concealed rage
and ask those monsters to tell,
how an innocent child
can be fiercely defiled
and yet kneel ‘neath the chime of their bell?

Then once and for all
watch them stumble and fall
as down to the cells they are led,
with long restless nights,
shallow sleep and no rights;
watch them cowering deep in their beds.

Let the bells peal out loud
as we look ‘neath the shrouds
and tally the terrible toll,
of the heart-wrenching cries
of so many sad eyes,
as The Lie is revealed to us all.


Written by Darren Scanlon, 18th June 2014.
Revised 16th June 2015.
©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.
Anon Jan 2017
We live a life,
of a path unknown.
We take a hand,
a trusting lead - the way they'll show.

But sometimes the hand,
we trustingly take,
teaches a lesson
that one, one to shake.

Some are kind,
and beautiful souls.
Some are blind,
taking untenable tolls.

If you find one,
of angelic form,
Give it devotion,
and always keep warm.
jeffrey robin Mar 2014
/:\
\:/


And

As the the ONE DAY offers
Itself



(ALL of itself)



AND --- YOU TOO --- ARE OFFERED

(All of yourself)



And the WHOLENESS of the story is revealed

••

Lo!

And the imagination

Is freed

From the chains of false and faulty Obligations

••

And

(Lo!)

Real people appear

From within the flim - flam and the deceit

••

And everything you ever wanted is offered freely

( as you offer yourself freely )

••

For every hand so many ******* appear

For every heart 1000 smiling faces

••

(For every YOU -- a ME)



And we are truly united

And the FOE is not feared

••

Do you really accept that EVIL has strength?

That love causes pain?

••

Do you debase yourself so
To
Hold such beliefs

That make you docile and weak?

••

Come !

It's easier to simply live truthfully
Trustingly

Generously

••

••

We are together forever

Our very presence

Does the eternal peace proclaim
Why am I so "negative?"
Strangers sometimes ask.
"I'm like a battery out of juice."
"Give me a positive jump"
"See the energy run free and loose."
Often I walk down crowded streets and I am glad to remain "unseen."
The times those I trust "go blind"
And fail "simple promises"
I feel like a "medieval fool...."
"Maybe it's because I've been too kind."
No.
It's the mishandling of Care's powerful tool."
"You can attract more flies with honey."
So does fertilizer and money.
Being kind is a gift.
Generosity and loyalty are miracles.
If one wishes to add another to befriend
Or to aid in a cause.. .
It sparks energies in both.
Like a battery
It needs positive and negative charges
To sustain it's production.
Like a failed trust or failed communication
It drains the battery dry.
The empty shell lingers unresponsive
Until another stops simply to value such
As a valuable part
To their life
Moments charge the trust..
A power that cannot be measured by much
Instruments of power.

Without caretaking equal to both parts
Or terminals
Energies abound when carelessly given
The charge shorts out the beautiful union
the friendship machine remains broken and discharged
It loses its power.
Until the next movement of energies are balanced
Thoughtfully .....
Trustingly ....
Unselfishly..
For what they are, Maintained of their charge
The battery cannot start the engines of another moment
Together
Friendship's transport
A fast and quite valuable sports car.
Eliza Jun 2017
Walk the distance of your reach
Did you have time to blink
There’s an ache we are born with
It represents those we have lost
And those we never got
Mark your weight on your way
The journey might make you stay
In mind is all I need
Only if you let me see
Will I take your hand trustingly
Give me the power and shape
That forms my world in depth
And I will argue my case
Until the last bird flies
Above our heads and hands
aurora kastanias Oct 2017
Consciousness finally puts its foot
down dictating, termination of frivolous
stubborn passions, unilaterally composing
wistful notes of lust, curiosity and fantasy
in broadcasted virtual reality.

Sprang from the enigmatic encounter
of a stranger unknown, fascination swiftly
dressed in seemingly harmless obsession,
longing for ethereal inkless words
deprived of nobility, stripped of their paper

suit and orphaned by a faceless
author. No signature or stamp required,
as they evanescently disappear in the gluttony
web of a careless spider, feeding on them as if
they had no value, reminding me indeed

they have lost their worth, the day
they lost their colour. Consciousness
finally puts its foot down, dictating
termination of frivolous stubborn passions as I
trustingly waited for it to do so.
On deciding to end a love story
Bonnie Mar 2
How many instances have I passed through, completely unaware that the simple act of choice, any choice, or even no choice at all, will set a precedent for chaotic movement forward into a future that I could not even have guessed at. How unpreparedly have I been given this power, the ultimate freedom to control and shape my own destiny. More than that though, the absolute freedom to at any and every moment change course and alter my own future forever. Wouldn't it have been easier to move trustingly into a life where fate has stretched out a rail that we ride on to a destination planned and known.



These are the existential thoughts that wake me at times. My mind worries at feelings that seem to be very much ignored or unnoticed by everyone around me. Today it is Possibility. In fact the proposition of infinite possibility.



This compelling facet of human consciousness winds all of my life up into a tangle of both hope and also anxiety, both absolute freedom and yet crushing responsibility.



I just like everyone else I was born new and empty, unchartered and alone in my emerging awareness and howling my confusion at a complex and indifferent universe. The crux of it is, if dwelt on there is no conclusion but to become aware that all of humanity is first censured then condemned to the breath catching realization that we are free to decide our own path and with every choice whether conscious of it or not shape all future existence. The sheer number of paths to choose can halt us to freeze at the cliff’s edge paralyzed by indecision.



The infinite nature of all possibility implies that there is no singular way to set a course, no correct way to live. I feel dizzy at this and have a headache.



So is there any meaning at all to be found. Clearly humans have always searched for this as both individuals and as a collective solace this has has been constructed carefully by means of cultural behaviours and ancient beliefs. Meaning and order and purpose is formed for us and around us. Perhaps meaning is not a thing that is given but must be actively searched for or constructed. Can I craft any meaning in a world that seems devoid of any inherent purpose.



I have the capacity to review past time to reflect upon my past. Perhaps choices made and courses altered. Memories and experiences undoubtedly shape our perception of all possibilities before us. Perhaps that means for us a choice we may have made remains unexplored. Because we have clear sight of what is past but only a limited grasp of our future, it’s like a confusing mess of shadow and light, half understood implications and inference, We are doomed to be pulled into the unknown.



As I move to the kitchen do begin my day these thoughts and more, much more beset me, trouble me and wear me down. Maybe coffee will help or not, I just don’t know anymore.
a narrative that delves deep into the existential theme of infinite possibility. Capturing the angst and awe that comes with understanding freedom and the limitless potential of choice.
© BonnieBayGallery 2025
got what he wanted at my expense.

Said crack fast talking
hacker and scammer
pulled figurative wool over my eyes
going incognito and speaking a clipped
English mien his disguise.

He appeared (rather sounded) genuine
after yours truly experienced computer snafu
(the Macbook Pro essentially hogtied
courtesy virus that disabled any activity)
even turning the laptop off then on
only wrought frustration to boot.

An out of state Apple computer
technical support person impersonator
(imposter invariably linkedin
to aforementioned fraudster -
most likely brother in arms)
answered telephone number
provided on the screen.

Admonitions against sharing details
about case in point, whereby cyberpunk
donned many hats to convince me
serious computer virus,
malware, trojan horse, et cetera
counterbalanced with voice on other end
affecting sedulousness to "listen carefully"
and carry forth the following commands.

Yours truly trustingly,
passively, meekly, et cetera
(though feeling jittery)
carried out the repeated instructions,
which charlatan inveighed against
speaking softly (in retrospect,
I ought to have carried a big stick),
indicating (as if held at gunpoint)
to headout off to the Trappe branch
of Citizens Banks and withdraw cash
all the while recording verbal dialogue
with small, medium at large criminal
(the scam artist(s) in question).

Upon retrieving legal tender
(quite a ***), thee next entrapment
entailed driving to closest ATM machine,
an MP gas station/convenience store
in Collegeville to convert
high denomination bills
(a considerable number
of money crisp Benjamins)
into bitcoin cryptocurrency
then hightailing back to where I live,
an assisted living facility
named Highland Manor.

Finally, the schmegegge script
(incorporating ejaculations that
questionable hacker convinced me
to swallow hook, line and sinker)
alluded to strong likelihood
scam artist lurked in close proximity
to above named banking institution,
which divine comedy bumbling
Ace of spades, an inept card shark
anagram name Meg Found
left as crypto clue told.
f Jul 2018
as much as every perfectly chosen word
inked onto the pages of a love story;
the glances i quickly steal when you look away,
the words i tentatively send at three a.m.
confessing things i didn’t know lived within me
now forming and taking space between us

your arms host thousands of my insecurities and fears
and you seem to hold them so lovingly
so i am no longer scared of giving them life;
the love with which you hold things that are pocket-sized versions of me
is a love embedded in my memory, sparked to life every time i look at you,
you look at me,
i really think we love each other the same way
because the beauty i see in you,
could be seen in me by someone who handled fragile things with care
i think i could be beautiful in that way
which is to say, i think i could be revered,
because this is a beauty i worship,
ever-present in my dreams, and fresh in memory during my waking hours

i am not so delusional to believe i am a god,
but i must have mistaken the softness in your eyes
for a sort of appreciation
love that only you could harbour for me,
because you do not love me
i’ve learned, painfully,
that i am a fool for loving so easy
and that most people do not toss such a delicate feeling around so recklessly
and trustingly,
for good reason
because now this is love blanketed in pain
and anxiety that does anything but cushion the fall

on paper, i swear we make sense
and i can believe that you do not love me
but there are several pieces missing
i must be seeing myself differently in the mirror than you do
because i thought we made sense
but if you do not love me, maybe i am not the person i thought i was with you
that girl is not stupid enough to fall into this type of trap
but i am
you should have told me how ugly i really am;
i must be, if my heart is not one you could embrace

and i need to take back all the pieces i gave you
because it no longer makes sense for you to hold them the way you do
even if there is still space, empty,
i do not want to be touching you
or for you to be touching anything that is remotely me
because i think i could easily believe you love me all over again.

— The End —