The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.
Copyright © stephanie hanvey | Year Posted 2013
Hoot! Hoot! Came the call
In silence I listened,heard
Suddenly, hoot! Hoot!
Came the cry,tree
Seems the world was in
Went I to the window
and Looked into the
empty Darkness. As I lay
down,I Knew somewhere
I would Hear that sound
Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013
There's A knock on my door,
I ask "who is there". ?
Standing there are five faces. .
They answer" IN UNISON "Truth"
I ask" Why the disguise"...?
It is I,"Truth" they all refrain.
How will I know which one of
you is to cross my threshold,
Let us all in and you will
figure it out in the end.
"No" I shouted I will never-
I will dismiss the one in
front he is much too "Clever".
Now there are four. Who shall I leave
to come through my door.
The next one began to explain,
every reason he should entrance gain,
a very convincing argument, I exclaimed,
"Go away you are nothing but" Rhetoric";
Everyone knows that the truth is Plain.
Now standing there in
front of my door left three,
The next one to speak
was beautiful, and very sexy...
"let me in, and I will prove I am truth.
You knew my mother her name was Ruth".
No! -You cannot lure me with sex
I read the story of your mother
and interpreted well.
If you do not leave my
door I will surely get vexed.
Now that I sent all but two away,
It was easier to tell ,
Who was left to welcome in..
Which of these two should enter my abode?
I had to ponder as to What truth really meant.
Was it something to be applied like a first aid kit.?
Is it true, that the truth is
sometimes ugly, and always plain?
Will the truth set you free after the pain.
I pondered some more and let them both in.
One was life and one was death-
One was yen and one was yang.
Truth number one started to speak, He said:
"No" The truth is not always in plain sight
Sometimes you have to search for it !
And:"Yes", The truth
can be ugly at times,
but you were right;
Real truth never wears a disguise.
Some truth is Imagined and
real truth's are universal
Depends on the mindset of the
thinker. What he perceives to be real-
has had many rehearsals;
As his thoughts have been trained -
as to what he see's, knows and feels.
The truth is not convoluted,
you will always KNOW
more than you think you do;
When the truth arrives.
When you enjoy the lies,
and the rhetoric,
It's because the lies
you believe, benefit you,
Though PREJUDICE eyes
can barely RECOGNIZE
the TRUTH again ever.
And so you will remain
as a BIAS SLAVE,
To the self seeking lies forever.
We are truth,they lamented-
We are the wide and the narrow
THE good,THE bad,
The HAPPY, The SAD-
LIFE AND THE DEATH.
THE YEN AND THE YANG.
WE DO NOT CHANGE- ACCORDING TO
WHAT YOU BELIEVE-WE ARE A CONSTANT-
AND WE ARE also CHANGE.
There was a knock on my door--
Someone had come,
disguised as one of truth's
Somehow he has come
to blame the innocent victims.
I prayed for my secret
eye to be opened,
and my judgement
to be discerning.
Because the truth,
as it seems, I am learning.
Is subject to Interpretation.
And before "Truth"
left my home, I was told.
Man cannot reason out, that
which he does not understand-
If he thinks he understands the proof
but calls upon no spirit to discern -
He alone, is unable to interpret the truth
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014
The red rose may be beautiful or grand
Sensual even LOVELY. But still only a
THEN....I strolled the garden BLUE
I saw the INDIGO ROSE
The BLUEST I had ever seen
A TEASING picture of the
The blue ROSE is EXOTIC, she feeds
The WINSOME ROSE shame with
Professional precision on a petal plate
Of pleasing purity.
Shades of BRILLIANT blue FLASH ACROSS A MOVIE
SCREEN BLUE VIXEN SUPREME
She sends the entire garden into bland oblivion.
A blue diamond glimmering in a GOLDEN heaven.
All other roses WILT of envy clamoring at her
Heels with CONGESTED JEALOUSLY.
When I set eyes upon this ROSE it so inspired me
To see what had not been seen.
The INDIGO GARDEN and all its splendor
THE IMMEASURABLE SOUL OF THE
MAGNETIC practically hypnotizing
These are the INDIGO GARDEN guarded
Secrets I've been knowing
THE INDIGO WAY
ALWAYS THE INDIGO ROSE FOREVER
Copyright © VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Year Posted 2015
My pet alligator sits under my feet.
He waits for food to fall while I simply eat.
He likes to chase the ball and bite with his sharp teeth.
His claws are super pointy, and he walks upon a leash.
He’s scaly without baths,
Smelly when not clean.
He’s very good at “sit,”
And trained to not be mean.
He likes the water much, except for when it rains.
And when we’re gone,
All day long,
We keep him in a crate.
My pet alligator is the best pet on this Earth,
I’d never trade him ever, for everything he’s worth.
Copyright © Emily Marshall | Year Posted 2013
Sun beams like Hot Choclate on a blue day...
Soft silky and smooth on your skin...
Butterflies softly floating like falling feathers in the wind...
Gently gliding gracefully over the bright green grass...
Eyelashes brush against your cheek like soft snowflakes on your face...
Fingertips flit freely across your arm...
Together playfully prancing like horses running wild...
Spinning tops twiling tenderly....
Wishes whispered wimsically like pixies playing hopscotch...
Softly calling quietly,
I love you!
Copyright © Desvin Umberger | Year Posted 2013
Seagulls chortle on seaside,
while families float like feathers
upon silky sand.
Ocean releases heavy blue
upon captivating curves of coastline.
Golden sun glows.
Tides stretch white tipped branches,
wearing ornaments of light.
Wild waves weave together
like wishful lovers.
Unity understood is powerful.
Floating logs are nature's love letters
of proud timber
lost to technology, time or storm.
Sailboats slide over swells,
for they are ocean's tipping hats
to solitude and soul.
Sunset seeps like molten lava,
melting into midnight blues.
Restless colors reach as day's final rays.
Full moon beats as a pearl heart
against night's lungs.
Stars flutter as butterflies above soft sea.
A sigh drifts by as a simple cloud.
Lighthouses glint and gleam,
through gentle winds.
June 10th 2007
Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2016
FIGHTING FOR FOLKS FEES FALLING FREELY
FEELING FEMININE FILING FOR FALLS
FORCING FAMILY FACING FURY
FRIGHTENING FRIENDS FUSING FUSION
FEIGHNING FATIGUE FREE FRAME
FRAUDULENT FACTS FALL FALLACY
FREE FROM FINITE FRENZY
FAIDING FEELING FOR FAIRY
FIRST FIGURE FILLS FRONT
FAULTING FATE FAKES FINDING
FALLING FAME FROWN FAITH
FUMED FUR, FENCE FREAKY.
Copyright © Teslim Badmus | Year Posted 2013
The stairs in the hall have no meaning at all, not going up, down, or side to side.
The steps just sit on the wall, and watches as the family crumbles around it, in good time.
Its wood holds no ears or eyes, but it hears and sees the lies that stumble and fall around
in the household.
It beholds at the sights from dawn to daylight and with no mouth passes rumors down the
With no hands and arms it comforts, and shelters the innocent, as the others rage circles
It walks with no legs, and with no rage calms them, and brings them back together as one.
When everyone has died, said their final goodbye, and left the house alone and empty.
It will still be there, with no eyes, and no ears, waiting for the years when there are people once again in the house, and it will be ready.
Copyright © Ashley Maddox | Year Posted 2013
Here comes the Watcher heading toward the hemlock
Watching the world, becomes his wealth,
toward which he tails around you, to every place, today and tomorrow.
When The Watcher walks, time slows down
Bearing his name, watches die out.
For The Watcher walks forward, caring less about the weather, waiting
for your fate to take place.
People like you and me, prepare for the worst, peeping along the post down home,
where the watch of the night, nears around and touches neat and soft
the rim of your face, right becomes night, and vacations along the rim down low.
Copyright © Samuel Hernandez | Year Posted 2015
Heat my heart I hear a hero
this soul soothed, stilled, and silenced
golden, growth, gave me a guru
within, wild, waiting to whisper
I inclined, initiate impossible
imagine infinite isn't so infamous
IMHO SMH serves no justice
TKO LOL no need omega
delighted to deliver dharmic direction
self-appointed steward of selfless
practiced not perfect, positive portions
critical for compassionate connections
we, world, will win, with unity
culture continues to counter crosses
mediated meeting my middles merciful
If you think you know then answers pass by
not one mind built this vision
landmine lands filled with landfills
minus minding multiple menaces
covet care cause its a rare case
corporate ladder, or conscious staircase
choices chastised, for coursing courageous
caring contagious, counting on cowards
evils aired aren't left faceless
sights for sure are sore from wayside
be the change to see a day is seized
stay cold-hearted and this place will freeze
Copyright © Davin Payne | Year Posted 2013
I know I was mean and always mad in the past.
I did alot of bad things and caused I little wrath.
but karma I payed for years with blood and tears I should be relieved from all this pain I'm suffering.
I put guns to my head wishing I was dead but all I could see was my kids faces.
I'm different now I got morals and standards I'm as loyal as ever.
I wanna live my life find a wife it's hard being a single father.
I feel like your holding me down when you need to be letting me go.I know you got a good side I think it's time I see that now.so goodbye bad karma it's good karma from here on out.
Copyright © marcus pimentel | Year Posted 2016
Through troubled times of struggle, hearts were muddled, I'd dissemble,
I'd drop your hand, chest buckles, you withstand and reassemble,
you've restored so many times what I've tore down, disassembled...
you understand my loss, first hand, "I love you", your lips trembled.
Though record shows my deeds forgo your love, you're more than gentle,
refused the bounds of apprehension, tension disassembled,
unleashed affection, your devotion, yet emotions tremble,
there's something uncontrolled, it has a hold within, it's mental.
Your intuition, my acts of indecision, temperamental,
propriety, on my behalf, falls way short of monumental.
Your heart permits my love, undeserving, unconditional,
though reservations pull back elation, unpredictable.
I promise you my heart, my spirit, it's unequivocal,
you complete the parts of me I thought were integral.
Burdens, troubles, tension, dissension, all now invisible,
all replaced by exuberance I once thought was mythical.
Trepidation, dread, fixation on perceived forged fictionals,
bring forth false truths expected to be unpredictable.
Look forward, opened heart and eyes, keep close what's fundamental,
I understand your fear, first hand, "I love you", my lips tremble.
Copyright © Kylie Routley | Year Posted 2013
A basket submerged in
is delighted to see itself
brimful of water.
But this is
a fleeting fortune.
It entered the river empty,
and sure to come out
Copyright © Anthony Obaro | Year Posted 2013
poses purposely pious
(note: Think of a praying manthis and some who wear clearical garb)
Copyright © Al Beech | Year Posted 2013
Sunflower sprouted happiness yet only just a weed,
a gardens hated nemisis this beloved bad seed.
Mimicking society using others resources to feed,
erected thick headed sunlight thief of greed...
Metaphorically speaking, this I do believe,
a sunflowered populace thrives to deceive.
Just as a flower unable to uproot and leave,
starving in the shadow behind this weed it grieves...
Copyright © Brian Davey | Year Posted 2016
Mind musically massaged
My midnight muse meanders
Mosaic mutated memories
Making meshed mynahs mock
Muttered moonlit metaphors.
Copyright © William Gray | Year Posted 2015
i read indulgence mid scripted words
breaking all the rules and then some,
what be greater than gutting & swallowing
uttermost concentration of language
critically consummated or otherwise,
communing within written ideologies
something profoundly reverent or
perhaps deliberate liberating nonsense,
nonetheless commonsensical compunction to
the discerning foresightedness of poets
& enduring escape artists 'tween psyche's
hallucinations & declarations
about analytically anomalous analgesics
and mellisonant melancholy metonymy,
rising above the fray of brutally alliterated
annotations fragmenting & fracturing dimensions,
steel blades sharpening anthologies' imperfect isms
inferring resoluteness 'tween deductive reasoning,
willing exposure imparting quintessential bollocks
literally grasping mercilessly melded metaphors
courageous enough to virtually be aptly bled,
plunged beneath swords' inky touchstones
Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016
dart at the deep glass glistening--
We are painting the
wrought-iron spider webs
with silver moonlight.
My soul and the universe
at both ends.
Copyright © red barchettadrive | Year Posted 2015
A bright green breeze rustles among tired trees,
Through the wide window.
Fall morns and noons find a dearth of bright blooms
Through the wide window.
Hellish heat before rain, come again the cool steam
Through the wide window.
Sunset falls, cicadas call and beckon,
Through the wide window.
And quiet old minds instinctively find heavy eyes
Through the wide window.
That time of rest, who have labored best, their night,
Close the wide window.
Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2016
Just Moseying Along
In the fullness
the empty scales
awaits full emancipation.
As the pale sun fades
frail freedom flashes
upon the horizon:
Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2016
You've been a peon, lowly pawn your whole life
Never amounted to much,
nothing much ever went right
Grew up dirt piss poor,
never knew the reason why
you were put on this earth for
So you start cyber chasing every get-rich-scam or scheme,
cashing out is a lame loser's favorite daily daydream
While waiting in a single file soup kitchen line,
the dumbest idea ever entered your muddled mind:
escape poverty's prison through a life of crime
Mean magistrates moved you around the board ever since
Inconsequential has been the sum of your sorry existence
You're a headless, karaoke knight riding a pale horse,
traveling aimless, without honor and shameless ...
singing drunken songs about imitations of life
Given a choice, riotous living you lasciviously endorse
Spurred in the direction of death,
you always make wrong way decisions
Trying to move up a spot or two in a mobile mercenary life,
ain't difficult to do, if given the right princely price
Loose loyalty has you always fleeing the specter of the sword,
side stepping death's demise more than once or twice
D.W.B are your birth initials, David Weyland Bishop;
spelled diagonally, bingo, Dates Women at Bordellos
Signed up to be a Catholic consigliore priest once,
when mother of the brood said she reject runts
Couldn't keep the vows you sacredly swore,
because you loved chasing after widows and whores
You like getting paid pretty to recite the verses,
you like getting laid, lustily piling up the curses
Every angle you play, leads your defrocked soul more astray
An inept rook, who tried to pickpocket the key
to the castle of God's kingdom
when you joined a secret society of thieves
Learned how to steal several different ways,
got tricked out when you started believing crime pays
Just another swindling, small-time crook
other people possessions you pilfered ...
fell horizontally in love with the things you took
Destination: vertical down, looks like you're hustling hellbound
You dream of living large, like a king on a throne;
but court jesters tend to live where fools belong
Presently, your domicile is the dog pound,
got a rap sheet stretching a mile long
Must be planning to purchase a palace underground
Your CO warned you to only take one step at a time,
but your MO is simple though: keep committing crime
using the same cookie cutter plan,
which chuckling cops say, always makes you so easy to find
Being bailed out yet again by an icy queen you love to hate
With a dark, domineering woman like this,
expect to be bitten by a bloody black widow kiss
When it comes to wielding willpower over men,
she's manipulates with an air of regal royalty
A poor puppet like you is way out of your little league,
you don't have the mental moxie to capably compete
Jezebel has you tangled,
trapped in the throes of damnation ---
it's getting loco late
You never cared to seek salvation:
now game's over ... checkmate!
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016
I painted the pests of parasites onto my own petals, blossoms and buds.
Wilted and weak, I remained bleak from all the blackouts.
Nauseous from ignoring mother nature's nectar, my greens grayed and my reds rusted.
My roots writhed from the rancid rain that I consumed, while the lattice of my leaves languished.
Spinning, I was thinning since my poisoned petals plummeted like falling rain.
Birds, butterflies and bees fled from me as if I was a dying star.
As I began to catch fire from my destructive desire, my thorns turned inward tearing me like a tornado.
The shame of shallow flames showed me a song of my praying spirit.
Rasping and gasping, I briskly blotted out the booze.
Patiently, I pruned my pollution.
Now, a book of blooms where my leaves prosper as pages and my roses rise as words.
Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2017