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Allania Berkey Mar 2016
The clock struck midnight
I was restless and thoughtful as could be
I noticed that I had been tossing and turning to a beat and rhythm that plunged above in the sky
It was a thunder-storm
bang, crash, thump
The sky illuminated in glory
Envy

The thunder roared and crashed in the middle of the night and the trees helplessly yearned for serenity
Ironic
It was calm earlier that day
Imagine
The breeze was right where it should have been and the sun was warmer than a hot skillet on a stove top
Peace
The sky was fostered in a pacific blue
And the clouds resembled dreams
Love
I remember it was 1:05 pm to be exact and I was feeling blissful
I decided to ride my bike through a quaint old town, two miles west of my house
Adventure
I stopped and stared at this little old man painting in the park
He was painting a tree, with pink, red, purple and gray
Odd
I couldn't help, but noticed how he was enticed by his surroundings
Interesting
I continued to bike away
It was now 2:45pm and I was feeling a bit famished
To the right of me stayed a cunning unforgettable coffee shop
I insisted to go in
Hesitation
Something about that coffee shop struck me that day, just like the little old man painting his introspection in the park
The room reeked in comfort and patience
Something I did not understand
Silence
Contemplatively, I bought a cup of coffee--black, I also companied that coffee with a blue berry scone--my favorite
I sat by the window to admire the sunlight and how the warmth cherished my skin
I sipped my coffee--startled
I noticed something peculiar about this coffee shop and this day
Instantly, I was left with an uneasy and unsettled feeling
Thoughtful
My black coffee was much more bitter than usual
It is as if the taste could not go down my throat
Something was wrong, I felt it
As I looked around the room everyone else was enjoying their cup of coffee
They also seemed to lack any hesitation
The tone in their voices create a harmonic rhythm in conversation
I noticed that every time they took a sip of their coffee they found it sweet, rather than bitter
I turned my head and looked out the window for a moment
Suddenly, I noticed that the sky was diminishing in its tints of blue
Wonder
I looked down at my watch
It was 3:35pm, I had to get home
I paid my bill and scurried onto my bike
Remember
The sky was calm throughout the entirety of the day
It was lovely and ideal--until it wasn't

No one expected a storm
No one expected disaster
But somehow, I did

I laid in bed that night waiting in anticipation
Waiting for my world to collide
Thunder and lighting seemed to have fought its way through the sky
Time
There wasn't enough
Concurrently, I felt bitter-- just like my cup of coffee in that cunning old shop
Ambiguity
I was left without answers
I was left without sugar and cream
creek, scratch, thump
The tree branch slid against the slide of my house
I noticed it all
It's starting
All the anticipation and anxiety I felt throughout the day was finally coming to its end or maybe to its start
The sky started to illuminate an illusion of sunlight
It was 11:30 pm and the day it almost to its end
I laid in bed thinking
I thought about my day and everything that it was missing
I notice it all
The little old man in the park painted a tree with a usual set of pigments, he defined ordinary, while sat alone comforted by the mere work of his creativity
The people in the coffee shop arrayed and encompassed patience, harmony and happiness
I was struck by discomfort because I unware of all those wonderful things
I knew all about the thunder and how it was provoked in the sky
I understood the lighting and its wish to shine
I thought of the beat and tempo that they would together make
Sometimes it was bitter, but sometimes it was sweet
I understood thunder and lighting
I understood why they danced viciously in the sky  
Finally, the clock struck midnight and it was now tomorrow
Fear
The storm was coming to its peak
The thunder fought its way with the lighting just as viciously written words floated on a piece of paper
The lighting struck back with ferocious and willful ambition
Relentless
The lighting held its ground, but didn't give up its hope
BANG
Memories
It was 1:05 am
The storm had reached its end
The thunder and lighting seemed to have parted their ways
Their fight was tortious
Nobody won, rather they both lost
It was 1:25 am
The rain had finally stopped
The trees have found their peace
It was 1:42 am
As I laid in bed, I thought about my day
I just want the storm to stop
Just like the the thunder and lightening, the little old man in the park and the people in that cunning old coffee shop, all have found their comfort and patience
The thunder and lightening have similarly found it in their bitter sweet good bye
It was wonderful
I noticed that as much as they fought throughout that darling midnight blue sky, they were attracted to their rhythm—A rhythm that was worth saving
The sweetness was found in their beat as they danced throughout the night
The thunder and lighting created a bittersweet combination
Just like the coffee I wish I would of had
A natural disaster that was intended to create a craze in the sky
The thunder wanted to be sweet, as did the lighting
Two peas in two different pods
Their negativity created the sweet appreciation of warm sunlight
I notice it all
The sun was the sweet
The day was calm
The thunder and lightening both knew it all too well
That night, the reminder of it anyways, I laid in bed and I knew that someday the storm would go away
It was 2:25 am and I finally shut my eyes
I, who erewhile the happy Garden sung
By one man’s disobedience lost, now sing
Recovered Paradise to all mankind,
By one man’s firm obedience fully tried
Through all temptation, and the Tempter foiled
In all his wiles, defeated and repulsed,
And Eden raised in the waste Wilderness.
  Thou Spirit, who led’st this glorious Eremite
Into the desert, his victorious field
Against the spiritual foe, and brought’st him thence        
By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire,
As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute,
And bear through highth or depth of Nature’s bounds,
With prosperous wing full summed, to tell of deeds
Above heroic, though in secret done,
And unrecorded left through many an age:
Worthy to have not remained so long unsung.
  Now had the great Proclaimer, with a voice
More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried
Repentance, and Heaven’s kingdom nigh at hand              
To all baptized.  To his great baptism flocked
With awe the regions round, and with them came
From Nazareth the son of Joseph deemed
To the flood Jordan—came as then obscure,
Unmarked, unknown.  But him the Baptist soon
Descried, divinely warned, and witness bore
As to his worthier, and would have resigned
To him his heavenly office.  Nor was long
His witness unconfirmed: on him baptized
Heaven opened, and in likeness of a Dove                    
The Spirit descended, while the Father’s voice
From Heaven pronounced him his beloved Son.
That heard the Adversary, who, roving still
About the world, at that assembly famed
Would not be last, and, with the voice divine
Nigh thunder-struck, the exalted man to whom
Such high attest was given a while surveyed
With wonder; then, with envy fraught and rage,
Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air
To council summons all his mighty Peers,                    
Within thick clouds and dark tenfold involved,
A gloomy consistory; and them amidst,
With looks aghast and sad, he thus bespake:—
  “O ancient Powers of Air and this wide World
(For much more willingly I mention Air,
This our old conquest, than remember Hell,
Our hated habitation), well ye know
How many ages, as the years of men,
This Universe we have possessed, and ruled
In manner at our will the affairs of Earth,                
Since Adam and his facile consort Eve
Lost Paradise, deceived by me, though since
With dread attending when that fatal wound
Shall be inflicted by the seed of Eve
Upon my head.  Long the decrees of Heaven
Delay, for longest time to Him is short;
And now, too soon for us, the circling hours
This dreaded time have compassed, wherein we
Must bide the stroke of that long-threatened wound
(At least, if so we can, and by the head                    
Broken be not intended all our power
To be infringed, our freedom and our being
In this fair empire won of Earth and Air)—
For this ill news I bring: The Woman’s Seed,
Destined to this, is late of woman born.
His birth to our just fear gave no small cause;
But his growth now to youth’s full flower, displaying
All virtue, grace and wisdom to achieve
Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear.
Before him a great Prophet, to proclaim                    
His coming, is sent harbinger, who all
Invites, and in the consecrated stream
Pretends to wash off sin, and fit them so
Purified to receive him pure, or rather
To do him honour as their King.  All come,
And he himself among them was baptized—
Not thence to be more pure, but to receive
The testimony of Heaven, that who he is
Thenceforth the nations may not doubt.  I saw
The Prophet do him reverence; on him, rising                
Out of the water, Heaven above the clouds
Unfold her crystal doors; thence on his head
A perfet Dove descend (whate’er it meant);
And out of Heaven the sovraign voice I heard,
‘This is my Son beloved,—in him am pleased.’
His mother, than, is mortal, but his Sire
He who obtains the monarchy of Heaven;
And what will He not do to advance his Son?
His first-begot we know, and sore have felt,
When his fierce thunder drove us to the Deep;              
Who this is we must learn, for Man he seems
In all his lineaments, though in his face
The glimpses of his Father’s glory shine.
Ye see our danger on the utmost edge
Of hazard, which admits no long debate,
But must with something sudden be opposed
(Not force, but well-couched fraud, well-woven snares),
Ere in the head of nations he appear,
Their king, their leader, and supreme on Earth.
I, when no other durst, sole undertook                      
The dismal expedition to find out
And ruin Adam, and the exploit performed
Successfully: a calmer voyage now
Will waft me; and the way found prosperous once
Induces best to hope of like success.”
  He ended, and his words impression left
Of much amazement to the infernal crew,
Distracted and surprised with deep dismay
At these sad tidings.  But no time was then
For long indulgence to their fears or grief:                
Unanimous they all commit the care
And management of this man enterprise
To him, their great Dictator, whose attempt
At first against mankind so well had thrived
In Adam’s overthrow, and led their march
From Hell’s deep-vaulted den to dwell in light,
Regents, and potentates, and kings, yea gods,
Of many a pleasant realm and province wide.
So to the coast of Jordan he directs
His easy steps, girded with snaky wiles,                    
Where he might likeliest find this new-declared,
This man of men, attested Son of God,
Temptation and all guile on him to try—
So to subvert whom he suspected raised
To end his reign on Earth so long enjoyed:
But, contrary, unweeting he fulfilled
The purposed counsel, pre-ordained and fixed,
Of the Most High, who, in full frequence bright
Of Angels, thus to Gabriel smiling spake:—
  “Gabriel, this day, by proof, thou shalt behold,          
Thou and all Angels conversant on Earth
With Man or men’s affairs, how I begin
To verify that solemn message late,
On which I sent thee to the ****** pure
In Galilee, that she should bear a son,
Great in renown, and called the Son of God.
Then told’st her, doubting how these things could be
To her a ******, that on her should come
The Holy Ghost, and the power of the Highest
O’ershadow her.  This Man, born and now upgrown,            
To shew him worthy of his birth divine
And high prediction, henceforth I expose
To Satan; let him tempt, and now assay
His utmost subtlety, because he boasts
And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng
Of his Apostasy.  He might have learnt
Less overweening, since he failed in Job,
Whose constant perseverance overcame
Whate’er his cruel malice could invent.
He now shall know I can produce a man,                      
Of female seed, far abler to resist
All his solicitations, and at length
All his vast force, and drive him back to Hell—
Winning by conquest what the first man lost
By fallacy surprised.  But first I mean
To exercise him in the Wilderness;
There he shall first lay down the rudiments
Of his great warfare, ere I send him forth
To conquer Sin and Death, the two grand foes.
By humiliation and strong sufferance                        
His weakness shall o’ercome Satanic strength,
And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh;
That all the Angels and aethereal Powers—
They now, and men hereafter—may discern
From what consummate virtue I have chose
This perfet man, by merit called my Son,
To earn salvation for the sons of men.”
  So spake the Eternal Father, and all Heaven
Admiring stood a space; then into hymns
Burst forth, and in celestial measures moved,              
Circling the throne and singing, while the hand
Sung with the voice, and this the argument:—
  “Victory and triumph to the Son of God,
Now entering his great duel, not of arms,
But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles!
The Father knows the Son; therefore secure
Ventures his filial virtue, though untried,
Against whate’er may tempt, whate’er ******,
Allure, or terrify, or undermine.
Be frustrate, all ye stratagems of Hell,                    
And, devilish machinations, come to nought!”
  So they in Heaven their odes and vigils tuned.
Meanwhile the Son of God, who yet some days
Lodged in Bethabara, where John baptized,
Musing and much revolving in his breast
How best the mighty work he might begin
Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first
Publish his godlike office now mature,
One day forth walked alone, the Spirit leading
And his deep thoughts, the better to converse              
With solitude, till, far from track of men,
Thought following thought, and step by step led on,
He entered now the bordering Desert wild,
And, with dark shades and rocks environed round,
His holy meditations thus pursued:—
  “O what a multitude of thoughts at once
Awakened in me swarm, while I consider
What from within I feel myself, and hear
What from without comes often to my ears,
Ill sorting with my present state compared!                
When I was yet a child, no childish play
To me was pleasing; all my mind was set
Serious to learn and know, and thence to do,
What might be public good; myself I thought
Born to that end, born to promote all truth,
All righteous things.  Therefore, above my years,
The Law of God I read, and found it sweet;
Made it my whole delight, and in it grew
To such perfection that, ere yet my age
Had measured twice six years, at our great Feast            
I went into the Temple, there to hear
The teachers of our Law, and to propose
What might improve my knowledge or their own,
And was admired by all.  Yet this not all
To which my spirit aspired.  Victorious deeds
Flamed in my heart, heroic acts—one while
To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke;
Then to subdue and quell, o’er all the earth,
Brute violence and proud tyrannic power,
Till truth were freed, and equity restored:                
Yet held it more humane, more heavenly, first
By winning words to conquer willing hearts,
And make persuasion do the work of fear;
At least to try, and teach the erring soul,
Not wilfully misdoing, but unware
Misled; the stubborn only to subdue.
These growing thoughts my mother soon perceiving,
By words at times cast forth, inly rejoiced,
And said to me apart, ‘High are thy thoughts,
O Son! but nourish them, and let them soar                  
To what highth sacred virtue and true worth
Can raise them, though above example high;
By matchless deeds express thy matchless Sire.
For know, thou art no son of mortal man;
Though men esteem thee low of parentage,
Thy Father is the Eternal King who rules
All Heaven and Earth, Angels and sons of men.
A messenger from God foretold thy birth
Conceived in me a ******; he foretold
Thou shouldst be great, and sit on David’s throne,          
And of thy kingdom there should be no end.
At thy nativity a glorious quire
Of Angels, in the fields of Bethlehem, sung
To shepherds, watching at their folds by night,
And told them the Messiah now was born,
Where they might see him; and to thee they came,
Directed to the manger where thou lay’st;
For in the inn was left no better room.
A Star, not seen before, in heaven appearing,
Guided the Wise Men thither from the East,                  
To honour thee with incense, myrrh, and gold;
By whose bright course led on they found the place,
Affirming it thy star, new-graven in heaven,
By which they knew thee King of Israel born.
Just Simeon and prophetic Anna, warned
By vision, found thee in the Temple, and spake,
Before the altar and the vested priest,
Like things of thee to all that present stood.’
This having heart, straight I again revolved
The Law and Prophets, searching what was writ              
Concerning the Messiah, to our scribes
Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake
I am—this chiefly, that my way must lie
Through many a hard assay, even to the death,
Ere I the promised kingdom can attain,
Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins’
Full weight must be transferred upon my head.
Yet, neither thus disheartened or dismayed,
The time prefixed I waited; when behold
The Baptist (of whose birth I oft had heard,                
Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come
Before Messiah, and his way prepare!
I, as all others, to his baptism came,
Which I believed was from above; but he
Straight knew me, and with loudest voice proclaimed
Me him (for it was shewn him so from Heaven)—
Me him whose harbinger he was; and first
Refused on me his baptism to confer,
As much his greater, and was hardly won.
But, as I rose out of the laving stream,                    
Heaven opened her eternal doors, from whence
The Spirit descended on me like a Dove;
And last, the sum of all, my Father’s voice,
Audibly heard from Heaven, pronounced me his,
Me his beloved Son, in whom alone
He was well pleased: by which I knew the time
Now full, that I no more should live obscure,
But openly begin, as best becomes
The authority which I derived from Heaven.
And now by some strong motion I am led                      
Into this wilderness; to what intent
I learn not yet.  Perhaps I need not know;
For what concerns my knowledge God reveals.”
  So spake our Morning Star, then in his rise,
And, looking round, on every side beheld
A pathless desert, dusk with horrid shades.
The way he came, not having marked return,
Was difficult, by human steps untrod;
And he still on was led, but with such thoughts
Accompanied of things past and to come                      
Lodged in his breast as well might recommend
Such solitude before choicest society.
  Full forty days he passed—whether on hill
Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night
Under the covert of some ancient oak
Or cedar to defend him from the dew,
Or harboured
Taylor Price Jun 2014
Flowing aimlessly
Through the wells of my mind
Unware of where I am
Unable to connect the thoughts that are racing
I hear my heartbeat
Slow and dim
As if it were far far away
It fades and becomes almost translucent

I pray it to stop
But am never answered
Awake in agony
I wish to fade away to nothing
To become nothing
To transcend
Ophelia Jan 2014
Melancholy is sitting in front of me
My man is hiding from me, hell yeah
I don't want to live that way anymore
'Cause yesterday I was a different person

Melancholy is holding my hands
My man is unware about me, hell yeah
I don't want to live that way anymore
Trying to hide my indecent past
I'm really trying, but it's harder than I thought

Every girl is like a mad gun
Have I gone mad?

I want to empty my home
I want to empty my life of Max
I will be wearing pink pyjamas
And listening to oldies

Melancholy is living in my neighbourhood
What should I do now?
I just wanna drink, hell yeah
Save me, my man!

Melancholy is knocking on my doors
Trying to escape, hell yeah
I'm really trying, but it's harder than I tought
Oh please don't drop me home, my man

Every girl is like a mad gun
Have I gone mad?

I want to empty my home
I want to empty my life of Max
I will be wearing pink pyjamas
And listening to oldies

Take me to your place, anywhere
I don't care anymore
I don't care
I don't care
I don't care

Every girl is like a mad gun
Have I gone mad?

I want to empty my home
I want to empty my life of Max
I will be wearing pink pyjamas
And listening to oldies
Sonali Sethi Oct 2014
You lie asleep on your bed
The monsters wait underneath;
To grab you with their scaly hands.
They smile with their crooked teeth

The gremlins dance in the shadows
As your closed eyes start to dream
They crawl along your room, just
Waiting to pounce; to make you scream

In your slumber, you don't hear,
Fingernails drag across your window
By the bony hands of a hooded figure;
The ghost of a soldier's widow.

Safe and warm in your blanket,
You sleep completely unware
Of the howling trees and tortured wails Carried along by the cold nights air

You rest, immersed in your dream,
You don't hear your floorboards creek
Or smell the stench of a ghouls breath
Or see the sights that would make you shriek

You sleep, all cozy and snug
You think that everything's alright
Oblivious you are to all the creatures
And things that go bump in the night

The sun rises and back into
Their holes and corners they scurry.
You awaken, well rested and fresh
And continue on without a worry.

You'll never know what went on
While you dreamed of happy times
The horrors that once lurked in your room
Wait, hidden,  for a chance to strike...
Hannah Thomas May 2014
Golden dust will form your in eyes
Over the long time they stay shut
Of course, you are unware
Dreams are flowing through your head

Now, just relax
I am here
Giving nightmares nightmares
Holding down the fort
Till the sun shines on dew drops

Lay your head down
In case I leave
Teddy will be here
Taking my place
Looking out for you
Exactly as I do

Oh, my little one
Night will soon be over
Enjoy your dreams while they last
alex loya May 2014
I never wanna tell u
What I really wanna say
I'm just here too help u no need to runaway
My words are my best friends
That I won't ever chase
Wont beg for attention dont need u too stay

If you dont want
Break up that bond
Got it all wrong now u wake up all gone ..
Nothing is permanent
Just take my word for it
You'll be returning quick thinkin you learned new tricks
Not here to disappoint u but I have no choice
Notice destruction you cannot avoid
Lost in the noise flanted my voice
Traded my toys for songs I enjoyed
No one will help u until ur heart stops
Wat ever u know prove ur heart is on top
Ignoring the news while my art hopes for props showed u the thruth and u started too pause
Look at the view like a portrait that's rare
Looking at u becuz ur unware
Too late for mistakes no need too compare
Living day by day fully prepared
I'm not here too force
I just wanna help
Get lost in the course I keep hurting myself
Mission abort give it too someone else
Lying in court Dont know how I felt
This is what happens when your way too passive

Notice the damage no need 2 panic
Took off the bandage locked in the attic
Just like an addict look how I had it
On Automatic till it fell off a cliff
Last cigarette
Before hell gets dim
Hilighted the meaning
Gave u full emphasis
Lucidly dreaming
Dont need too remenis
Super nintendo sega genesis
When I was younger I couldn't picture this
Random world in tabu why keep
Locking eyes
One bite 2 her lip just too start up the ride ...
Jonathan Nunez Jun 2018
I am in a box.
A box that I am trapped in.
The warm sun does not enter.
I am isolated inside this cold, dark, lonely box.

The weather outside is fine,
With the clouds parting with each other.
The warmth of the sun cannot reach my darkened heart.

The outside is full of people
Who are blissfully unware of my pain.
They don’t know or care that I am trapped inside.

The pain from this loneliness is slowly killing me.
I know I have got to break free,
But I have abandoned all hope.

I reach out for help,
But the bitterness in my soul from being trapped
Repels them away from me.

Until one man offers to help.
Out of bitterness, I demand he leave me.
I have given up on my dream to be free.
I doubt he can help anyway.

To my surprise, he comes back
And offers to help me again.
I tell him that it is impossible
As he struggles to break me free.

Bit by bit he makes little progress.
For the first time in ages,
I feel a small glimmer of hope.
I start to make an effort to break out.

After some time, I finally burst out.
I am finally free.
I thank the man with tears in my eyes.
He rejects the thanks,
Saying that most of the effort came from me.

“I only got you started,” he says
“You freed yourself.”
Please let me know what you think of this poem. The idea came to me when I was trying to help a certain person.
thyreez-thy Apr 2024
I sit exhausted every night
Not a single off day in my sights
Working as I wake up, and until I dose off
So busy, my dehydration is discovered by a dry cough

To busy to eat, yet too hungry to carry on
Taking even a little break causes progress to be gone
Disappeared are the days of weekends being a reprieve
As I wipe the tears and carry on by rolling up my sleeves

Some call it growing up, others call it existing
Here I am throwing up, unware of how exhausting
this all truly is
The human body was made for pressure, yet I cannot reassure
If I am tired out of hard work, or hardly getting things to work

The weapons must have succeeded, the attacks seem to have landed
Stuck in this workflow I feel stranded, and yet life has still demanded
I wake up and smile, and sleep with the same expression
Is this depression, a lesson, or a trial for heaven?

Sitting down is wasting time, and working with no success is just as worse
Is this a challenge set before me, or some invisible curse
Time and time again, clocking in and clocking out
I sit still, letting it boil, as all I want to do is shout
Stuck in a bit of a rut and wrote this on the fly. Not sure how to feel about it but I try to keep my writing up to avoid growing dull again, thanks for reading!
Adelaide London Dec 2016
Artist
That’s what you said you were.

But are you really?

Coming to my doorstep with the promise of blues
And reds
And all shades of purple.
With your paintbrushes
Set and new.
You said every stroke
Was me and unique
That every curve was
Drawn
and accentuated
to perfection.

Unware was I to what you were going to steal…

Because what you left me with was raw
Blacks
and reds
in crisscrosses
and arms
legs and
hearts torn apart
with bitter irony.
Every stroke
was inevitable
and laced with
the real scent
of horror.

I was the canvas.
But did that make me a work of art?
When the picture someone paints is nothing like what they made it out to be.
Muck monster Sep 2016
I murdered someone
In cold blood and hate
I murdered someone
And it felt as if it were fate

I held the knife
Held it like a mighty sword
I released myself of strife
And spoke in harsh words

It was there indifference
It feuled my anger
No longer struggling with dissonance
Yearning to strangle her

They cheared me on!
Like a gladiater in a pit
Words with venom spun
The victim not worth the spit!

Entertainment, they cackled with a grin
They loved watching the blood drain
A place where they vented there sin
So i let the blade slide, let violence reign

Blood dripping from the sides
The voices became quiet in return
The indifference back in their eyes
Echoing not an ounce of concern

I lay there drenched in crimson
An empty vessel with a hard shell
Able to take a beating, no hazed vision
Adranaline gone, i've succumbed to hell

They dragged me out in my state of confusion
Society had destroyed yet another soul
Im both victim and ******, we are one
They watched me **** myself, unware of what they stole

There is more that one way to **** a man
Judgement and hate can be a gun
Shooting you down and you cant understand
So you shut down, realizing there is nowhere to run

It's easier like this being indifferent
Feeling numb in exchange to stop the pain
It's easier like this, not being spent
A calm mind in exhange for cut veins

I murdered someone
In cold blood and hate
I murdered someone
And it felt as if it were fate
Seema Sep 2017
Walking by an old graveyard
On a late Sunday afternoon
I noticed a figure at guard
Waiting for the peek of the full moon

Dressed in a black robe
Doing sort of prayer ritual
His hand hanging like a lobe
A rare type to my own visual

I dared not to go near the figure
As it looked busy praying
Unable to control my eager
Too keen to see, what it was doing

As I moved closer to the bushes
I heard voices chanting something
A chill up my spine, I felt the pushes
But on notice, there was nothing

I read somewhere that chanting has power
To see if it really worked
I stayed to witness for another hour
Than I became totally shocked

***** of fire floating away with each chant
My vision widened to see what it wants
A step nearer to the place of ritual
I must admit am purely spiritual

Black smoke rouse in the air
Like thousand tongues, the voices grew
Two robe figures sitting in a pair
I was thrilled by the astonishing view

Almost watching for nearly two hours
I was scared as well as inquisitive
Then came the heavy pouring showers
Yet the floating flames were active

I was unware as I was being watched
Caring less they continued to pray
They had a sweet tooth for carcass, washed
Hungrily they grabbed in to prey

Running home, as I caught up with my breath
What I saw today was a crazy unbelievable ****
Such rituals of what!! for people after death
I rather change my route,
                     before they show me their wrath...


©sim
From my imaginative mind to yours :)
The floodgates have been opened,
catching me unware
I'm caught
beneath the onslaught of rushing water,
As I am being tumbled
to the bottom
I know I need to move
But as much as I try
My efforts are furtile
But I still try
Without success
PYRO May 2018
She brings a goosebumps feeling,
Though without empathy does she shatter your bones, runs a spear through that which gives life.
If she could pay attetion she would hear the blood drops from pierced hearts.  
She's unware of the pain she inflicts,
Or the joy she brings
tompoet rwanda Jul 2018
The fact that i didn't care
The lisses that i didn't share
Was just a matter of welfare
And so she sat sadly on her black chair
Waiting for my spare
So that she doesn't hear any sound
of despair
And i had gone to work somewhere
Not cheating her ,i swear
But she didn't listen not even dare
She took time to get dressed
And brush her black shiny hair
Sitting there in a short armchair
She took all  her clothes even the
Underwears
Then she left me unware
I should have released all my tears
but i realised that what she did
was not fair
and i had to move on for better.
True story
jeffrey conyers Aug 2016
I must go numb before I won't adore you more.
To the point I'm very unware of you completely in my heart.
Well, least until all the feelings are gone.

I will know this just by the mentioning of your name.
When I don't react to hearing it.
But for now, you're my love purpose.
Whatever that means?
Ayesha Jun 1
Do you think that frogs
Sense the immensity of winds
Of dust blows, of a thousand flailing
Objects? Or do frogs just sit
And ponder in that frog-like way.
And when they die, do they even notice
Will I? Notice. When I die. When someone
Or someone-not is weeping beside
Or the beeping is calling forth
A calm crowd of white people
Or or nothing - the bed does nothing
To adjust to my weightlessness and I
Will lie, unware of myself
Till morning comes and spreads the word
Maybe it will reach everyone but me

Do you think, in sharp sudden halts
Of mediocre afternoons
That maybe there is no distinction
Between being and non-being, between
The sun and the hand, the fingers
Tangled in with cloth, the soil
Rushing forth in disciplined ranks
To ruffle my eyelashes.
That poetry is nothing really.
And that I am nothing.
A vessel for the universe
To drain through, into itself,
And then, and then I will become a frog
And the frog will croak, for some reason
jeffrey conyers Sep 2016
Two eyes, sending you messages.
Two arms, seeking you too.
But you unaware of all these things.
Like my voice calling out your name.

But you been unaware for sometime that you been the object of this certain guy.

Two ears, loves to hear your voice.
Two hands, wants to touch you so much.
But you unaware of all of this.
Least of these two lips that wants to give you a sweet, sweet kiss.

Now, maybe the blame lies with me.
For to you these things never been explained.
So unware of my true feeling for you.
When she looks in the mirror
She sees work that needs to be done,
Thinks things should be changed,
But I see the love of my life
And think she’s no less than perfect.
FuzzyFluffy Nov 2019
Standing in the queue zombified and hypnotized... consuming the proverbial apple

Becoming Eve

domesticated and silent... cattles from the society farm  trying to act "human"  happily kept captive and unware of their  own hypocrisy
Many  a times,
A door of imagination
Pretendingly kept open
To allure
To steal the emotional waves
captured...
Mocked and gained...
Wholesale
..
Unware
Be aware
...
Somebody is watching you...


.
.
.
Michael John Oct 2024
i
i

lily are you a
witch?
not sure?

probably are..
many are unware..
a shadow woman..

you are kin
to the cats
umbra feline..

and you know
what i´m thinking..
your aura a flittering bat

in a long forgotten
or bats..
cornish cove

where dwell stange
nymph
and what not..

sun and moon
happy and fair
size 10 airware..

ii

it is easy to flex
my cosmic doo-da
and low hex

or spell-(let me
consult thesaurus..)
and abracadabra..

just a question of
discovery
there is magic

in nature-it is undeniable
power in beauty
and beauty into power

cats and bats
and hedgehogs
ears of the devil

can it be transmited
from one heart
in a circular

fashion to another?
there is healing
love and rebirth..?

iii

in perfection her
reflections
in the mirror

where they see
past and future
omni-presence

do you think
she says-will it rain
should i take

an umbrella
the twain meet
the clouds break..

— The End —