I am a coward with open sores.
I write and wonder who it bores.
I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly.
I see others carrying out my dreams;
that’s what’s defeated me.
I am a coward with open sores.
I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way.
I touch base with the fear in my heart, tearing me apart,
leaving nothing to say...
I worry the world will leave me.
I cry because no one believes in me.
I am a coward with open sores.
I understand nothing comes easy.
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me.
I dream I am healed and brave.
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave.
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours.
I am a coward with open sores.
© 2011 ~JSLaM
* 1st PLACE in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by C. Devonshire 2011
* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand 5/11/2011
* 1st PLACE in Contest "BEST EVER" Sponsored by P.D. 2011
Captivated by the rising tide, alone she stood
On a solemn piece of rock. The darkness
Lingered over; correcting her daylight.
Death in its inevitability took the form of ocean.
Amidst the fleeting light, an absence and
Neglect writhed behind her eyes,
Draining her malevolence, turning it to fear.
A tapestry of thought weaved onto her shoulder,
Lethargy strained through her. Never fighting the
Overpowering desire to sleep. One foot first,
Never look back, for the
End, is here.
Inspiration for Hatred Bleeds From Her Discourse,
Rewriting What She Once knew - Tenacious Factuality -
Revelation of Consciousness Leaves Her Domain Bare.
Even as Her Fingers Silk Through The Light, She Recieves no Solace;
Voicing The Silent Echoes That Cascade Within Her.
Often, now, Her mind Breathes only condemnation - A Twisted Mockery -
Captivated By The Depravity of Her Own lucid Creation
Ability to align-star-crossed, Unfortunate Function Does Not Constitute Existence.
Beneath Perpetual Masochism Dawns The Remnants of Her Hope,
Liar, You Never Knew what Lurked behind Your own Putrid Assumptions.
Erase This Memory By All Means, Watch The letters Burn into The Sky.
- Watch Her Burn into The Sky -
Derision Powers his Desire to Repair His
Torn Status Amongst Societies Cruel Structure.
Ten Years of Relentless Torture. Sharpens the Mind.
The Kindred Spirit of Hope Relieves him of Pressure
-He'll Eat The Flesh of Those Who are Not Through Living -
Dazed, Yet More Observant of Life Than Those Who breathe.
Berated and Shunned, They Would Tear at his Clothes.
Tensing His Muscles, he took Their Blows of Malevolence,
He Aspired to Die, His Dream, A Haven of Blackness Free From
The Never Ending Torment Which Ruled His Existence so Strictly.
He'll Set Himself on Fire and He'll Burn. He'll Burn Right into The Ground.
1 - 1 - 1
1 - 2 - 2
1 - 3 - 3
1 - 4 - 4
1 - 5 - 5
1 - 6 - 6
2 - 1 - 1
2 - 2 - 2
2 - 3 - 3
2 - 4 - 4
2 - 5 - 5
L-iving in a world of vast
souls formed from
another voided world,
E-ntering thru portals
from their world to earth.
O-ozing spetacular smell
and wail when the chips
N-urtured from cradle to
entity with a new world
O-rganizes oneself for the
task ahead,passing thru
hurdles of life unabased
R-eaps the fruit of labor
with joy or heavy heart.
A-ge sets in,mission
accomplished or not will
dawn on the entity.
I-n retrospect,he thinks
about his childhood and
how life was to him.
L-iving in confidence or
shame,he bows his head
in victory or defeat.
O-nly the taste of time
will tell the durability of
V-oid of preference the
aim result bears the
foundation for his lineage.
E-njoyment or lack lies
with the works of the
man,for there is no food
for the slothful.
Y-oung ones,a stitch in
time saves nine,make
haste while the sun
O-iling your lamb always
like the ten virgins is the
key to success.
U-rging you to shun peer
pressure and focus on
the course marked out
for you by fate,so a
fulfilled life you shall live.
An acrostic for you
E_ emotinal outburst
M_ mentally decompensated
E_ emtionally driven
R_ room 21
E_ enter the white coat
N_ nurse with pills
C_ Cody already passed out asleep
Y_ youthful love gone bad
R_ restraint bed
O_ open door _guards
O_ opportunity for change
M_ mental health gone bad~tragic
(Spent the day at the emergency
room with Cody..They sent him
to a crisis center...Here we go
again with mental health visits
I s a child to be heard?
N o one answers, as usual. The silence is slowly killing me.
S orrow, misunderstanding and these mourning memories,
I s this the way it is supposed to be? Since that fateful day, I have been a
G irl, lost in a whirl of tragic past, calamitous present and the fear of having no future,
N ever have I known what "family", "friends" or "fiends" mean, for
I have never made or heard of any.
F or I am thirteen, just as inconsequential as a dwarf planet, amongst boundless galaxies.
I live in misery, why won't anyone listen to me? I may be young, but I
C an converse, listen and see, and I
A m as normal as you are. So why
N ot give me a chance to prove myself?
C an you ever give me a listening
E ar? Is a child to be heard?
Emotional scars that never heal
All too soon the colorful spectacular disappears.
Under the soggy leaves, lies the dormant grass.
Too soon the blue skies have turned to grey.
United is the wind with cold.
Memories of summer slowly fade away.
Now we will wait for the snow.
M oment by moment the hours tick by,
I n each one I wonder and ask myself why,
S ince you have left me I feel so alone,
S o utterly empty when I should have known,
I nviting you into my heart wasn#t wise,
N ot when I knew you had other ties,
G one now the laughter of warm Summer days,
Y ou took them all with you, not wanting to stay.
O nly you coulld get under my skin like you did.
U ntil you came along I was just a big kid.
T hen I met you and everything changed,
E xcept for the fact that you were estranged,
R ecently leaving a home and a wife,
R evealing to me you still wanted that life.
I n all that you said and all that you did,
B ut I wanted you so I put in my bid,
L ike a fool I gambled my all and I lost,
Y ou were honest with me and well worth the cost.
Don't ever let yourself get caught up in an affair.
When it's over it's just not worth the pain and embarrassment.
If someone is married they are off limits and if you are married you are not free to sample the other stuff out there.
You could lose everything for a cheap, very temporary thrill.
Let cooler heads prevail and don't let your loins think for you.
This poem was written to convey this message.
It is , however pure fiction so don't feel sorry for me. ;)
For Aye, Aye And A Mistress Contest by Debbie Guzzi
Twisting the Misery around his Finger,
He walks to an isolated place.
Embedding his Heels into Sand, Carefully He
Offers himself to the Earth.
Lucid, Nostalgic Perfumes of a
Deceased Love Permeate his senses.
Meagrely He closes his eyes,
Night time captures the Sun and
Sinks into Sand. Darkness,
Like Liquid it Slips under the Surface
Engulfing the Labyrinth of Light,
Eating the morning hue, turning it to mist.
Peace is With Him, For Now, He
He Strains Against The Undying Bonds of Life,
Empties Himself to The World and Contemplates,
Swift, Agonising, Masochistic Blood Lust. - The
Grains in His Hourglass Glowed a Tempestuous,
Ominous Black. - It's Almost Over Now. -
Ink Blots Stain his Intellect, and Form
Neat Circles of Venom, Tightly Coiled around The
Greying Matter of His Slow, Ceasing Bone Cage.
Trials of Time Pull Gravity Tighter: He Fights to
Overcome the Weight, Struggling Indefinitely To
Keep his Confident Frame. He Begins to
Indulge Selfishly Within The Realms of His Own
Lucid Creation. - This is Real - Crystal Clear
Liquid Seeps Over his Feet - It Has to be Real. -
Holding his Love above Fear He Sinks his
Indigo Hands Into Flesh, Beyond the
Meat, and Far Beyond the Putrid Violent
Stench of His Mindset. This all has to
End. He Draws his Ultimate Inhalation, and
Looking Into the Back of His Head, He
Intricacies, delicately and poignantly
Shroud themselves, taking
Only his sanity and rationality.
Living on the edge of chaos,
And sinking his broken
Teeth into this life... He makes his
Could I not see such ugly drawn out choices.
Hollow I feel such nothing for people it is fear that feeds me.
Alone in this forsaken world with nothing to accept.
Order is such pain that it is nothing but chains.
Souls that bare nothing but lost cause to confusion is such utter mistakes.
P aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
Down in the dumps
Except when fixated on
Pen and paper to produce a
Rhyming (or not) mental diversion
Essential to the
Soul's seasoning that
Into the ether the dark mood
Out into the light of
Nature's muse of hope.
Assignment for Constance on how
poetry can heal depression
Whispering heartache unfolds in torture
Incisions decorate the outside of you
See the river of lost hope unfold in a pond of red
How many will know you are dead
Menaced by a triumphant chanting of lament
Entrancing the soul of Hades’ kin
Missed eruptions of the sensory nerves
Onomatopoeic of hollow gongs
Resonating, maimed through the indescribable facets of
Your forgotten youth.
Adjudged 3rd Place in Black Eyed Susan's Acrostic Contest
O ut of control
I t shouldn't have happened
L ots of destruction
S hame on BP
P lease stop this disaster
I irrate and upset
L ots is at stake
L oss of God's creations
If you don't eat, you're anorexic if you do eat, you're a fat ass.
If you don't wear makeup, you're ugly. If you wear makeup, you're a fake.
If you're loud, you're annoying; if you're quiet, you're weird.
If you're good in school, you're smart; if you say something wrong, you're stupid.
If you take pictures, you're an attention-whore; if you don't stalk your friends you're not cool.
If you wear sweats, you're underdressed; if you wear a dress, you're overdressed.
If you don't have boobs, no guys like you; if you have boobs, they're fake.
If you don't have a boyfriend, you're a loser; if you have one, he's cheating on you.
You tell us to be who we are but then you go and judge us about it. So now, do you see how hard it is for us to just be ourselves?
The woven fabric of my life for years has only known such strife.
An empty pocket with no hope.
Put the last knot on the rope.
Edging toward the final ledge.
Still hoping for a bet to hedge.
The clock is ticking loud and clear.
Reminding me the time is near.
Yet leaves me wondering,who will shed a tear?
For Carol's Acrostic contest.
Nadir of this momentous year is reached.
Ominous opaque shapes shift in tightly locked rooms;
valediction of autumn's colour-crackling leaves.
Encroaching shadows approach with soot-soft stealth,
mysteriously merging, emerging from clouded corners -
bleak charcoal smudges menacing in murky light.
Endless darkness unravelling all around me;
rooms in my mind painted every shade of night.
Left behind without a friend.
Only to have to face the end.
So lonely here all by myself.
The dust is thick up on the shelf.
Severely damaged, alone and burned.
On a journey where nothing's learned.
Until the dusk swallow's me whole.
Living my life while I lost my soul.
For the acrostic contest.
Frequently I find Myself Dwelling,
Amidst a Nightmare of Coral Cave
Light. Twisting and Writhing Towards
Lingering Freedom and Hopelessly
Initiating Pattern after Pattern of
Neglected Partnerships. All of Them
Gone, Sinking Down, Below the depths.
Open Those Metaphorical Eyes
Under Your Cold, Starving Pump And
Take The World To The Abyss With you.
Of Course, The Mass of Accumulating
Fear Quarrels with My Bitterness.
Tether Yourself To The First Suitable
Option of Flesh. They'll Understand, She'll...
Understand. Negotiating with Your Own
Corrupt Soul. This Emptiness Has Become My
Home, and I'll Live in it Endlessly.
Slowly my world shatters
Unravelling all around me
Inside my heart is
Cold, empty, broken
I have fallen apart completely
Drowning in the waves of sorrow
Everything I once was is swept away
By Morgan Mise
Written November 13, 2012