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Metaphor Depression Poems | Metaphor Poems About Depression

These Metaphor Depression poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Depression. These are the best examples of Metaphor Depression poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia


Details | Alliteration | |

THE LAST DAYS

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.


Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 


Details | Rhyme | |

A Soul Awakened

She is the muse to her own sorrow; She is the digger of her grave. She is the painter of her ocean view and every fatal wave. She is the shadow of her Father; She is the darkness in your sight. She is the night without the stars surrounding pale moonlight. She is the music with no words; She is sweet love without the reason. She is your dreamer with submission cold by warmth with every season. She is your pet with cold intentions; She is your baby scared and shaken. She is the bold and pure- the lost and found, She is a soul awakened.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Disappear

wake up to serendipity
ignorant and unknown
shaken and not stirred
blond can be bond

Reality, metaphor and cliche
cheesy juvenile decay
Love, care and hate
past the use by date

of fights and torment
and well deserved lament
salute to the solitary reaper
with Metallica... I disappear


Details | Free verse | |

CAPTCHA's Cruelty

HELP

The CAPTCHA took me by surprise tonight
Letters became ghouls in my mind’s eye
I listed them—
Noted them; words...begging, crying out for me

STAY

CAPTCHA was merely mocked
By millions of viewers on keyboards
I imagined all—
Tears began to fall

LOST

How may I help you, CAPTCHA?
Are you merely what they say?
Is there more—
Tell me, I pray

AAND

You bewilder my senses with your emptiness
The computer became my way to you
But all I could do—
Was imitate

CRYY 

I began to imagine someone stuck in CAPTCHA
A place where they harbored the weak
They took what they pleased—
Allowed them to speak

NNOW

Today it was happening and evermore
There was a reason I came to know
And now—
I want to know more

FOLL

I swallowed air and typed in the words
Feeling worthless and absurd
I began to believe—
There was more to this irrational dream

XOW3

The screen went black and then I was sure
I couldn’t doubt it anymore
The CAPTCHA wanted me—
The letters suddenly blurred and unseen

CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Let them go
CAPTCHA 
CAPTCHA
Full of woe
CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Take me now
CAPTCHA 
CAPTCHA
Tell me how to
CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Set them free
CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Knowing is free

Knowing is free

MMEE

For years I have copied your codes
Knowing you are there
Me—it’s me
Crying in the dark pit of despair

AAND

Though empty your words are to me
They are all I hear
All I fear—
In four letters on this electric trap

XXBX

What am I to do?
To follow would weary my soul
To save—
Would take its toll

FREE

What is this foreign word my dear?
Oh, how can you cut and paste it in my mind so clear?
Free—and then? 
Close your eyes and count to ten

The victims of the CAPTCHA remain a mystery to us all
Yet still we stare at the codes and merely imitate them
We are zombies staring our lives away
Trapped in CAPTCHA’s claws
Sad, deprived. . .
CAPTURED

I speak your language to stop this cruelty:

THEE 2TRUE TH78 IS9X BEF4 HOUR VERY EYES

Though we choose not to see
We choose not to fight
We choose only to IMITATE
We merely copy and paste

CRYY
CRYY
CRYY

GOOD
BAYE
BAYE
BAYE 







Details | Verse | |

Letters On My Arm

you won’t listen to me, so i write to you on my arms. 
this one says i needed you and you weren’t there. 
this one says i’m bleeding but you don’t care. 
i wrote you this one out of despair, 
seemed like you always had to be at some other somewhere,
and it hurts, because it’s me you’re dismissin’, 
with no time to listen, just need your attention, 
it’s your touch i’m missin’, look me in my eye,
i know you see my letters, so why don’t i get a reply?
i guess it’s worth it just to try, 
to get you to notice me just one more time, 
write you just one last line, 
but i’m runnin’ out of time ‘cause i’m runnin’ out of ink, 
needin’ more time to think, 
but i don’t have it, so i sign my last letter and address it to you,
i hope this one gets through


Details | I do not know? | |

Blood loss

 
You're empty already, but still bleed more
As you open my veins and drip blood on your floor
You can’t smile; you don't laugh or put on an illusion
You just sit there blood drained, whilst you beg for transfusion.
This here’s your knife; it’s seen plenty of woes
It has travelled through time, helped you battle your foes.
Shall you slit across tracks, so it oozes when bleeds?
Or follow it down and find rest with the weeds?
A sane healthy man will find comfort in ties.
Always knows where to go, to find care, when he cries
Whilst others they yearn for their wish to come true
Whilst they suffer from blood loss, like me or like you.







Details | Free verse | |

The Dark Artist

Death,
A fate foretold 
Since the beginning of time

Master of time,
Misunderstood, 
And feared by many. 
Some say your power is a curse
Some a blessing

Emancipator of souls,
Bestow freedom 
On my poor soul.
Trapped in this prison of torture
Called a body, 
Which places limits on my true potential

I understand you, 
Hiding behind broken hearts
Are benevolent intentions, 
A noble purpose

Bringer of peace, 
You give rest 
to those tired.
You free those soldiers
Trapped in a game of kings

A dark artist. 
I see the beauty in your work.
With your scythe
You paint a masterpiece,
With your scythe 
You write a magnificent tragedy.
You are the perfect ending
To our tragic story


Details | I do not know? | |

The Warrior

The Warrior

My pencil is my sword
My eraser is my shield
And when I go to war
My paper is my battlefield 
When life is to much
This is how I express the way I feel
And so I write such words
As murder, stab, kill
When people read these words
Misunderstanding they think I’m insane
But this is just how I vent
All my anger, frustration and pain
People that don’t know me
Think I look like a bad man
The people that say they do know me
Think I live the life of a madman
All of these things
Circling in my head
Sometimes I have to wonder
Would I be better off dead
I used to be a somebody
And my reputation would reflect
That I used to be a person
To look up to and respect
But now you can see
By the trembling in my hands
That all I am these days
Is a tired, broken man


Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Game

My life has been one enormous charade,
A make believe game,
A play I have played, 
A story I tell myself, day and night,
Hidden from myself, out of sight,
A game of hide and seek,
While searching for something else to eat.

The game,
A cosmic game,
A comic game,
A bad joke,
A puff of smoke,
A laugh,
A bath,
A lonely path,
The Game.

I used to take it so seriously,
Think it, feel it so real, so perfectly,

So certain I that was right,
That I lived in the light,
So convinced that I knew the rules,
So obvious I had all the tools,
That I saw the truth, 
That I saw the light,
Would win the battle, win the fight.


Heard the sound of the distant drum,
Calling me to battle with the devious one.
The walls of my ego were high and mighty,
My dreams and delusions danced in front of me,
Their smooth dark surface impossible to climb,
Images I swallowed and thought were mine.


I made them alive, moving and real,
Twist and turn like a slimy eel,
Just to tell myself that I was still someone,
Playing in the game and having lots of fun,
Just to tell me and to tell you,
That I wasn't a loser,
So I wouldn’t hear the words game over.


Game over,
Check and mate,
Here's the gate,
You have to take,
Out of the Game,
The game of shame.


The game of avoiding being blue,
Of dogging the bullets they shot at you,
The atomic bomb they drop on your head,
The monsters that they put under your bed.


The game of hiding away,
Live to play another day,
Even if it's only make believe,
The prizes in plastic,
And not worth a dime,
At least I have the impression that they are mine,
At least I don't fell the pain,
The pain of shame,
In this perverted game.


So that I don't feel I'm a prisoner,
Tied to this post,
Don't even realise that I'm only a ghost,
That the truth is well hidden,
On the board of the game.

That the prizes are in plastic,
But they are shiny and new,
The paint hardly chipped,
The emptiness hardly shows through,
The laughing is loud,
The smiles are all warm and friendly,
And we are all together,
Joyful and happy.


The illusion is REAL,
And only the mad man knows,
That it's a rotten deal.

more of my poems at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Verse | |

Help Me

HELP ME

When we fight 
I want to run away
But there’s nowhere to go
But down, down, down

Your vicious tongue lashes thru my heart
As you beat me with your soul
And I want to run away 
So far from you and this town, town, town

If I could just tell someone 
I’m just a piece of trash
Would they help me or am I just all alone?
Metal and glass crash. 

I never thought I could hate someone 
Until I met your sadness
Evil never felt so bad. 
You’re driving me too madness

Running, running away from you 
To nowhere lasting
Screaming and nobody hears me 
As my blood pours fasting 

Please save me from this ilk. 
I’m too weak to drink my milk
The time has come and gone my friend
I fear the near is coming to an end…help

Leah
1/30/2013


Details | Ballad | |

Broken Dreams

  Do you believe in the things that you've always known,
Can you understand the things you've been shown.
   Is it the visions you see that make you believe,
Or is the feelings you get when you've been deceived.
    The pain you feel a never ending ache ,
Tearing your heart and soul from you every day.
    Time ticks slowly pounding away at you,
Throbbing heart breaking and there's you can do,
    Must I settle for these lost and broken dreams,
Because it has all the signs that what it seems.
    How much should a man endure to find his way,
It cant possibly be like this hard for me every day.
    There is nothing so frustrating as being so confused,
Especially when you've discovered that you've been used.
    I will get through this lonely phase I have no doubts,
But I'm sure there will come a day I'll figure it all out.
    Cautiously I walk the path that's been laid before me,
In faith I will continue for I know he will let me see.
    Life will be thrown at you in so many different ways,
I will be prepared for these things for the rest of my days.
    Broken dreams will be the learning tree for me to grow ,
Living my life with Joy Happiness is what I'll always Know.
tac


Details | Lyric | |

Solipsist

Let the Deicide commence.

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.

I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
your failure!

I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
 
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways

Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own  personal reality 




Details | Narrative | |

A Land Bearing Green White Green

Which way leads to the 
land of green white 
green?
Which way are we 
heading?
   A country the wicked 
bears the rulership, and 
the people sighing 
continuously.
   A terrible thing sprouts 
beneath the sun: a 
pregnant woman 
delivering not.
Imps come to lime-light 
by snuffing air from the 
goose that laid the 
golden eggs.
The blind guiding the un
blind.
The weak suppressing 
the strong-a terrible 
thing.
Like the overthrow of the 
gods at Mt. Olympus by 
the Titans.
A country where also 
thieves appear as men of 
integrity.
Land of green white 
green,which way?
A land where the 
enlightened ones are 
overshadowed and 
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that 
eat the crumbs.
 Which way to go you 
Land?
Iliterates stand on 
podium of power 
bellowing orders as milk 
of sorrow known as 
dividends of democracy 
is passed around.
The machine of progress 
manned by the 
unproductive.
"There is better 
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white 
green,my country 
where rule of law walk 
beside anarchy.
The proles are sentenced 
to adversity,and there 
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People 
dancing on thorns 
whimpering as they 
throng 
along.
  I see a new sun rising 
from the horizon,hope is 
rekindled as its rays 
grace on hopeless bodies.
 Look!! there soon be 
change!



Note: 
This 
is 
poem 
full 
of 
Nigeria 
political
 angst.


Details | Free verse | |

the Rose


                 The Rose innocent white, soft pink, yellows 
                colors touch your soul vibrant red to amethyst

                enhances beauty yet a thorn awaits to break skin
                as life does piercing your heart with a thin pin.

                My life has shed drops of blood through each petal
                 as if in return for the love and beauty you feel

                hence pain underneath patiently waits the bloodletting ~

                The rose symbolizes love yet vulnerable to hold
                for when you open your heart it can be left bleeding

                The best of surgeons can not beat your heart
                It is the inner faith and God himself whom gives strength 

                whispers in your ear you shall live you will exist
                your life meaningful as the water and sun to the rose

                 For I am your God  your existence is not over yet .
                        You must Live ~You must Bloom 
                       
                 


Details | Tanka | |

'Being bipolar is like a rose'

Being bipolar
is like a rose born missing
some of its petals,--
its color is more vibrant
than all the other roses'!

It may never be
part of a "perfect" bouquet,--
but its rich pigment
can be a precious paint for
Da Vinci's "Mona Lisa."

Alas, it may not
attract the most "honeybees"
in the wilds of life,--
but its petals can be crushed
to make the finest perfumes.

Being bipolar
is like a rose born missing
some of its petals,--
its bouquet is more fragrant
than all the other roses'!


Details | Free verse | |

The Storm

And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain 
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body 
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions 
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence 
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth 
I stand among the reeds in the basin 
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back 
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away 
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground 
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own 
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home


Details | Lyric | |

Lacerated Wings

They are bound to the Earth like trees
Suffocating under the weight of an icy grave 
Reaching to be free, but only their limbs are seen
Hoping that one day someone will see:
They can't escape with lacerated wings

The ocean surrounds me, covering everything
Nothing will be clearly seen; confusion overwhelming
No-one can save you, you're on your own, left to die
Manipulating every bleeding heart you can find
I can't escape with lacerated wings.

Swarms of nets, waves of screams 
Entangle: your captive illusions and dreams
The mask has be seared - The truth now they see
The Liar - Vampiric Fiend; lowly thief
And now they know you can't escape with Lacerated Wings

There's reasons for your rejections:
Your Heavy heart's transferred oppression
The scars are too deep to pass the trials
But you can find peace in your cage of empty spirals
You Cannot Escape With Lacerated Wings


Details | Free verse | |

Only in You

Through the lonely woods, I may head,

Upon the autumn leaves, I may tread,

At the secluded horizon, I may stare,

And only you, I may see,

In those symphonies of silence,

In those melodies of calmness,

In those euphonies of quietness.

 

By the silent lake, I may lay,

Till the twilight fades, I may stay,

Then in reclusive silence, I may walk,

And only to you, I may talk,

Through those toungueless emotions,

Through those wordless attachments,

Through those voiceless sentiments.

 

In the lone meadow, I may wander,

Along the untrodden paths, I may waver,

In companionless seclusion, I may hide,

And only in you, I may find,

The depths of oneness,

The bonds of togetherness,

The cozy feel of coalescence.

 

In the wilderness of emotions, I may die,

At the merciless daggering, I may sigh,

Through a million wounds, I may bleed,

And only in you, I may seek,

The balm of love,

The warmth of affection,

The heal of inseparability.


Details | Free verse | |

Giving In To The Gray

Overwhelmed with fear I whispered into the rain
Disarming defenses, Giving in to the gray 
Tearing down all of my shelter within my hollowed decay
While this echoing silence gave every tear drop a name
They begin filling the voids with mundane hopes for a change
Heaven will save me from this hell and blue skies will reign
Lazily lay in green grass watching clouds drift away
It's all but a deflated dream now that the colors have changed
My thoughts have become restless noise of uncertainties rearranged
Damning all of my emotions, lies decorated with grace
Now I stand with a hardened heart in the sobering autumn rain 
I'm disarmed and defenseless, Giving in to the gray


Details | Lyric | |

Miles

I write
my late night revelations
paint an image so clear-
so precise-
as if fine-tuned with a microscope.
I see the truth.
I now realize that what I need-
I want-
is YOU.
I don't know how I am going to make you see,
make you feel...
I need to make you know.
A simple touch is all I need
to delve into your mind and infect you.
But how to reach you?
You are hidden far away
within your own mind,
in maze of your own design.
Between us locked doors and endless traps,
mountains,
valleys,
rivers, lakes, oceans,
miles and miles of 
impassible terrain that keeps me apart,
keeps me from you!
We are two universes set to collide-
not to be destroyed,
but merge into one.
Set to collide, but keep missing our mark.
This is unbeknownst to you.
I keep the secrets within me.
How much longer can I wait-
how much longer until my silence
consumes me?
Until you break me?
I am deserted, alone,
left in desolation.
You are the answer to the questions,
the key to my freedom.
But you cannot reach me.
And you do not know what you are.
How much longer til my time runs out?


Details | I do not know? | |

Darkness

when you're fast asleep
and thoughts creep into your head
and flood your brain until it weeps
and your mind descends dark and deep
into a land of dead end worlds
where the only way out
is the way you came in
but the road is way too steep
and your feet are made of lead
and every smile is just pretend
and nothing is to be believed
and you're going off the deep end
bleeding rivers of hatred
into a pool of shallow deceit
where every thought is colored red
and every shade of black completes
every nightmare ever conceived
born of blood-stained dreams within dreams
where that person you used to be
is falling into skies of silent screams
and contemplating death
all the while wishing
to be alive again


Details | Verse | |

THE SADDEST LOVE

We loved without regards to who did not want us together.
We disregarded their threats.
If I could have let go, I surely would have.
Now, I stand looking out the window in sadness.
Will the sun shine again?

It seems like I cannot come in out of the storm.
The rainfall is drowning my emotions.
My mind is with him in his tomb.
This is the saddest love.

Internal visages emerge, miens seen daily via her demeanor.

My life is a mess.
I have lost someone dear through no fault of my own.
I am left without anyone to depend on.
Lord, by your grace, I shall overcome the saddest love.

Depression is a lifelong malaise.
The visual inspiration given shows discontent.
Unhappiness she faces.
Her man’s life has be taken.
She is visiting him in his grave.
The saddest love has fasciae.
_____________________________|
Penned on MAY 13, 2014!


Details | Rhyme | |

Your Kiss From Heaven

My heart longs to hug
and to snug
In ur warm arms.
Not to be left in darkness.
We used to snog
On the large log,
Feeling ur tenderness
And every sweetness
Of yours lips.
Your swaying hips
Astounded my senses.
There are no pedestals
Reserved in the heavens
For girl wit such outlooks.
You exist in my fantasy
Visiting in my fantasy,
For a gem I have lost.
Heaven's taken my best.
I need no other kiss
But your kiss
From heaven.


Details | I do not know? | |

'Give me drink, rest, and solitude'

Give me drink, rest, and solitude--
these are all the things I long for.
Give me as well your finest food
and I'll ask of you, lass, no more!

My bonnie lass, what's the matter--
why are you all sorry and alone?
Don't be sad because you're fatter
than most, lass, for love loves its own.

Sweet lass, I'll tell you a secret.
If I were a young lad again,
I'd pursue you without regret!
But as I am three-score and ten

years old, indeed, I can never
be the youthful lad you most need.
But your pain won't be for ever:
for your heart will refuse to bleed.




Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Damned

Her devilish eyes beat at me 
taking flesh with every blow,her 
rendered heart beat sounds like 
tribal drum rolls an her skin 
drips venom from its pores , I 
find myself helpless and 
paralyzed , everything else 
seems trivial and meaningless 
to this moment,..she exhales 
smoke and lightning flows from 
her finger tips ,she is the 
antichrist the source of my 
device, but I can't help but give 
her my heart,I question my gift 
but remain entranced caught in 
her red moonlit ritual 
dance,sight of her is blinding , 
she is what Every man  desires 
but can't reach, it feels like 
heaven but I sweat from the 
heat,the pain she inflicts is 
bitter sweet an burns like salt 
in a wound ,she is gods most 
regretted creation born for the 
night with a hunger that cannot 
be fed,hold her down chain her 
up she cannot be contained , 
pentagrams burn white in her 
eyes,she's a shape shifting 
voodoo angel that sleeps with 
vipers ,yet I seek her and 
desire her with every thread of 
my existence and have turned 
into an insomniac who day 
dreams of her , cut by the 
thorns of the rose she wears in 
her hair , always the day of the 
dead and raining razorblades, 
the tree limbs reach out for my 
embrace but every one of them 
are shadowed with her face,I 
close my eyes I can always find 
her there , lay with her in the 
ground every breath she takes 
is sin ,she's a black rosé that 
cannot be changed a black rosé 
that cannot be contained , 
ashes to ashes dust to dust I 
cut my heart to be with her and 
bleed undying trust,it's only 
her....everything else I feel is 
not real .....


Details | Lyric | |

Nature's Sigh

The Black butterfly waves away her adorations
All she seeks is seclusion, subsuming slave to mortification
The Dear Air is all she can breath, captive of imaginary dreams
The Beacon resonates, but the hope isolates
The Wasteland's silky fingers caressing the virgin's face

So she is now, the covet of the damned
Programmed to every victim's pain
Carrying the weight of every sorrow
Drowning in wrongs she does not know
But paradise is at loss; she must go

Nature sighs after the bite
All my hopes fading
Don't look at me with those sorrowful eyes
How do you know exactly what I'm feeling?
I'm just the ghost flower passing by
And you can hear nature's sigh


Details | Free verse | |

The Man With No Face

Hark!  It is he!
A slate face; devoid!
Mechanical, computing, sleepless.

No! Just human!
Turning, just turning!
He will not fall, now expressionless.

The dark gazeth!
Yet, he wont gaze back!
Four days, sleepless, faceless, for all!

His face is stone.
No care, there's no care!
Persist amidst all of the loss.

It is but he!
No! Tireless;
designed to be.
It is but he!

Shrug the abyss,
he will nev'r fail;
a perfection, 
designed to be. 
Shrug the abyss.

Through it all,
he leaveth none for all!
To see the end of it all,
the completion of it all!
None but all.

Four days sleepless,
it is none but he!
Faceless, breathless, mechanized.

Look! See him now!
With bags under eyes.
See him now, the man with no face.

It is he,
Be it so! Be it so!
To see the end of it;
the destruction of it all!
It is he.


Details | Rhyme | |

Stones

Your words are like stones
Whether skipped or thrown
Destination unknown
They fly alone
Bruising and breaking deeper than bones

Yet pain from these stones will never be shown.

Whether near or far
She'll faithfully wait
Till the unknown date
When those stones are kind and lost of hate

You make mistakes 
Yes she can relate
But what if the pain becomes to great
Whe the kindness comes too late

Such small pieces of her heart
whats left to make
She gave to much
Now there's none to take

Just one everlasting ache 
That your stones did create

They say you can never retake
A women's heart once it breaks

So next time withhold the quake
Your stones with take
And keep this lesson
As a dear keepsake.

<3 Kalee Lynn




Details | Lyric | |

I Can't Say It Without You

I was your never ending composer
We spent many a nights, and many an hour together
But now you’re lost inside
And I can’t find my way, again.

( chorus )
Cause I can’t say it without you		
It hurts to be without the feeling		
Never knowing when it will return		
But I know that you would stay with me	
If you came back, again some day		
But till then I’ll wait till you appear.	

I really miss the way you make me feel
People said we were meant to be together
Why’d you leave me so unexpectedly
I hope you come back soon.

( Chorus )

It’s been two months since I’ve written you
All I’ve got to show is crumpled bits of paper
The passion and creativity is now gone
So come back home so I can work it out.	


Details | Free verse | |

Heartbreak

He wants to say "I love you,"
But keeps it to "Goodnight."
Because love would mean some falling,
and she's afraid of heights.

T.K


Details | Couplet | |

The prison of the keys

And now I've lost my papers,
My passport and my wife,
The very essence of
My identity and life.

My bank account is empty,
My cloths and garments sold,
My skin and bones are ashes,
Spread thin on the open road.

My old car's broken down,
No wheels to touch the floor,
The motor been dismantled,
Stripped clean down to the core.

The bailiffs and the policemen,
Have emptied my abode,
The promises I made you,
Have been auctioned out and sold.

The love I hold within me,
Is all that I now have left,
The rest is bleak illusion,
The bind man and the deaf.

The imaginary people ,
I thought were my friends,
Have left the scene forever,
As the road of life does bend.

And now I stand alone,
Upon this lonely hill,
I gaze upon the meanings,
The years have silently killed.

In the roaring storms of thunder,
In the lightning in the night,
In the whispering of the children,
In the white doves lonely flight.

In the dust of many ages,
That has settled on my soul,
In the ashes of my humanity,
That has filled my begging bowl.

The ancient breeze is blowing,
Calling me to my knees,
To behold the light within me,
In the prison of the keys.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Rhyme | |

When He Breaks You

When He breaks you

It is to re-make you.

 

If given the choice

To give destiny your voice

You would undoubtedly have picked this state

Such is the irony of fate

 

He breaks you now

So you later see the how -

How the pieces of your journey come to be

A slow but eventual solving of this mystery

 

He makes you work work work – then fail

So that you realize your means are of no avail

Without His will -

But feel His mercy fill -

Even through the aches still

 

He punctures your bubble of hope

To teach you the meaning of struggling to cope

To avoid you saying ‘this was all from me’

Which you might say if it always did come so easy

 

He lets you fall

So that when you stand

It’s straight and tall

Your past sorrows

Not letting you drown

Without your ego

Weighing you down

 

Even while the road appears smooth

He lets you trip and trip again

So that you might stumble upon hidden treasures

From the dirt, which you may otherwise not gain

 

In essence,

He knows Best

The perfect Teacher

Who puts the perfect test

-

Truly,

He breaks you

To re-make you…

Better.


Details | Ballad | |

Growing Emptiness

My flesh and bone, can't seem to hone
in on the substance I once had
Right and wrong, difference known
I never can choose anymore good over bad
I once was an optimistic hope filled inspiration
Now consumed by an empty shallow occupation
Fame, sex, drugs, feels good to the touch
but never, inevitably, amounts to much
Loving pleasure, hating to face pain
The suppression just makes me insane
Selfishness, recklessness and pride prevail
My half hearted attempts at decency always fail
Not because normalcy is unattainable
But because I choose instead to have my belly full
Once I chose depth and sincerity over surface greed
When darkness calls I now heed
While these things seem to satisfy now
I can't help to see my outlook on life is increasingly foul
A self inflicted wound, I must admit
I know this life is not a good fit
Once again I'm reminded that time after time
and all the same signs
I just can't seem to repress
This growing emptiness


Details | Monorhyme | |

Stolen Tears

her stolen tears fall in peace
veiled from a world that will not cease
her knitted brows now show their crease
as she weeps into her comforting fleece
nothing can slow their rapid increase
as they finally find their release…


~Inspired by the wonderful Monorhyme by Nette Onclaud "Black Tears"~

Nette,
You are an amazing poet and you are missed here every day.
I hope that these words find you well and that you will be back 
to inspire more of us here at the Soup!


Details | Free verse | |

I wish it would rain

I carry the weight
of an ocean,
behind a hue fashioned
for the burden,
but no water falls.
Cracked Iris temper,
sketchy, dwindling trigger;
Salting my wounds.
Parched cacophony whispers.
No sounds,
only a bitter, restless miracle.
I wish it would rain.

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Embers of a dream

Lord, I don't understand.
Maybe I never did.
The destination of the path seemed so grand,
yet now it looks horrid!

Why?

The dragon You've placed, mine to fight
still breathes fire and brimstone in my neck,
but I'm armoured with incapability to smite
and the cobblestones You paved lead to this wreck.

Why?

I dreamt of the moon,
but couldn't reach the stars,
so I drifted into the sun and soon
I would be burnt with scars.

Why shroud my mind with dreams of peace at daylight's bend,
yet shred it with horrors at night?
Why let me pursue a rainbow when 
there never was an end?

The past is bathed in murky waters
and clothed in miry clay.
Now the future looks no better
and mere words can't express what I wish to say.

Lord, here I lay at Your mercy,
angry and heartbroken.
You don't make mistakes and You set free.
Please, I beg be my beacon!
Loose the shackles,
break the chains
that I may serve You again.
Show me the true way You planned,
for I have reached the end of this one.


Details | Free verse | |

Suicide

When they found you it was too late
Standing there they saw a twist of fate
The days to follow so somber
Gave everyone something to ponder

Your pain was too much to bear
Thinking life was so unfair
A loving soul crushed so young
The hearts of your family forever stung

A baby now without a father
Her life a story with only one author


Details | Free verse | |

Salt Water

A thing so paradoxical desire;
So all encompassing it’s grasp;
A curse of eternal thirst- 
Though we are drowning.
Hands desperately scratching for a life raft
That is secretly made of the same water we drown in.
So we continue our daily floundering
Chasing a trail of crumbs we call “Hope”


Details | Lyric | |

Like wild birds flying

The shadow falls as night arrives
like the kiss of death it blinds my eyes,
and in my mind the colors break
this blinding, innocuous life in wake,
a sound begins like distant bells
it chimes like time- my fear and hell,
and eyes still blind to what may come
I know the sound; its feathers drum.
The colors for a moment take
my mind from its insistent snake,
it slithers through my heart and hides
and from my dark depressions rise,
colors- like wild birds flying.

The night a trap, uncertainty wailing
I know my hearts a brittle, pale thing,
yet in the dark of sky and heart
I feel the feathers as they dash their marks,
of this sensuous life I forgot to remember
its sparks ignite like undying embers,
colors of life as it should have been
like a cold nights sweat, wide awake in a dream,
and the pain of the past sometimes shrill like a scream,
its sound- like wild birds flying.

"Don't go!" I cry out, but the dark fills me out
its prevalence still endless surrounds me,
I must wait for the day, when the light clears my way
and to life I'm availed by dear time.
But oh time I deplore, with its ravenous roar,
melting new into old, painting dark into cold,
to remind us that nothing can last!
Still I will watch for first light
when I can join life in flight,
and feel- like a wild bird, flying.


Details | Lyric | |

The Other Side of the Coin

The night seems sad,
its stars are empty-
all magic gone, no luck
to gain from breathing a wish-
your dreams masked by shadow.
But this chance is not needed,
nor magic or spells,
to fight against the tears-
one must conquer them alone.
Luck is temporary for he
who counts on it.
It drains the stars 
of light and warmth.
In sadness we tend to forget
That we ourselves
have the power
to conquer the pain we feel.
Do not rely on good fortune
for soon as it comes
it will disintegrate into a sea
of sorrow and regrets.
Instead,
create your own magic
rather than pretend.
The stories and tales of childhood
may seem alluring
but do not let them
steal you away
from reality.


Details | Lyric | |

In the Spider's Web

I am a spider
amused that you have become ensnared
in my web of lies.
My talent is manipulation-
I play you as easily as a puppet
dangling from my power hungry fingers.
Hungry, yes-
I feed off these lies.
The quicker you fall, 
the more satisfaction I feel.
I am a spider
and you are my pray.
You do not realize you are a victim
until you are bound and broken
my teeth at your neck,
How foolish do you feel 
as the venom courses through your veins?
Does this make me a monster,
Nothing more than a barbaric creature?
Relying on primal instincts,
I hunt for facts
and gather the truths,
smuggling them away 
and replacing them with 
Picture-perfect facsimiles engulfed in deceit.
Have I performed the greatest trick of all?
Or have I lost myself in my web?
Each fragile strand threatens to snap,
to unravel my illusion
and reveal the truth masked within,
leaving me exposed,
vulnerable and naked.
I have lost myself:
A victim of my own design.


Details | Free verse | |

Her Final Words

"No." She whispered before drowning into her sorrows.
Her life had been a simple happy one. 
There were no pains and no troubles.
Life was life and people were people.
Life was simple.
and life was all about tomorrows.
Life didn't know about sorrows.
Her sorrows.
Those same sorrows that she drowned in never existed. 
They were never there, but where?
First to be sad in the naive town of joy.
Sorrow became contagious and what was known as happiness no longer was there.
It was non-exististent. 
A meager thought 
and a blessed memory.
She tried and tried.
She failed and failed.
Life was no longer hers.
For Pain was her only possession.
Her curse.
She lived and she died.
Yet, her legacy was passed on.
Never was it gone.
"No." She whispered before drowning in her sorrows, 
"Save them."


Details | Free verse | |

Living on the edge

Sometimes
I feel like I'm stood on the edge of a cliff
swaying too and throw
in a icy cold biting wind
staring down
at the dark deep caesium below
never knowing
from one moment to another
which way I'll go.

Hoping someone
will come along
and reach out and grab my hand
and save me.

but until then
I stand here and sway.

Peter Dome.copyright.2012.


Details | Sonnet | |

Here is he stuck, within an icy skull

Here is he stuck, within an icy skull.
His cooling core yearns for the warmth of sun.
He sits and sees the snowflakes blend and dull
The rocky walls that trap the frozen one.
Does he succumb to numbing apathy,
Or fight winter, a battle for the daft?
December flowers wilt like his decree
To break the walls with fists and stabbing shafts.
His shaking fists make weapons hard to wield.
The beating turns his wrists to rigid casts.
A golden ray leaks through the wall that shields
And gives a glimpse of brighter sunshines past.
Always his arms grow weak, his strength gives way,
But still he tries again another day.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Homelands

====================
Homelands
Arabic poem by: Adel Said*
Translated into English by: 
Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk)
=====================

At the end of the line I stand
As should a professional homeless do
Exactly at the end of the line
Before the committee on homelands distribution 
Among those who fall in the overflow
Over the needs and capacity of time, place, 
Maps, 
Population records,
And cemeteries. 

At the end of the line I stand 
Hanging like a teardrop in a funeral 
Collecting what have fallen of my years,
My fables
And my extinct dreams,
In the bundle of my childhood that missed her doll
And my deferred share of my mother’s tenderness.

I have a flavor the midwife failed to sever
With the umbilical cord
In my heart, there is still a nursery rhyme
About a duck swimming in a river
And a songs about a fair maiden’s tear dripped down with  kohl
And my fingers are still trembling
In fear of the lesson and the swish of the teacher’s ruler.

I have in the piggy bank of my life
Volumes about hunger and wars of social classes
Burned by the fascists 
Who also snuffed out the tears of forbidden love.
I have in the piggy bank of my life
Dates I saved of palm tree’s yearning for the land
And some palm pollen dust still traveling in my lungs. 

I have no signs of prophecy on my forehead 
And no halos of saints 
But my homeland that’s sitting there 
Amidst the committee on the homelands distribution
Will recognize me
And I'm in the queue 
I will not compete with the homeless comrades 
For their homelands 
And will not accept that illustrious one on the right 
And not that opulent one on the left
I’ll accept only that one,
That one whose head is a palm tree 
And whose arms are two rivers.
 
- You , O Mister!
 You who was at the end of the line,
 You haven’t been recognized
 By any of the homelands gathered in the committee,
 The exiles snuffed out your flavor
 And withered your songs;
 Despite the high level of adoration in you
 No homeland on earth
 Understands your language.

 - Even  that one? !

 - Even  that one ..
And out of pity 
We decided to grant you a berth,
A berth that will never come to an end
You will waste on it  
All that’s left in your lifetime’s piggy bank 
Of tears, 
Of dreams loitering outside the fence of life 
And of years flying, like neglected pieces of paper,
Out of the window of history! 

===========
Translated by: Em. Prof. Inaam al-Hashimi
USA
*  Adel Said is a poet from Iraq who resides in Norway


Details | Free verse | |

Lost

Lost
Lost in thought.
Lost in prayer.
Lost in life.
I know not where I am going.
I know not why I care.
Who can know what tomorrow brings.
Who can foretell the future.
No one can for sure.
Not I.
No Not I.
All that I know is that I am lost.
And find the words I know to be inadequate to tell.
To tell you how I feel.
To tell you how I care.
I can only hope my prayers will reach you.
I can only dream that you'll understand.
For if I am lost you'll find me.
For that is what you promised you would do.
I believe you'll keep your promise.
Because you have before.
I will close my eyes now.
And rest in fact that when you find me.
I am lost.
Lost no more.


Details | Free verse | |

The Bird that is Loved and Loathed

It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath 
the ice.
More than remaining in a 
kindled flame
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why? 

It burned and it stung.
The markings remained, 
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little 
known loathing were the known 
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the 
child that cried
Never was their relief for the 
child that tried

You were that lovely bird that 
understood the complications of 
felicity 
Nothing looked the same in 
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears 
of joy.
The others-they were yet to 
appear.
Caring Mother, o' so fair
 You were that beautiful bird 
filled with care.

The others came and were not 
alone. Their two suitors sat on 
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you 
come?
I began to wither and wither 
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a 
human raceme. 
The droops of the Lily of the 
Valley became the slumping of 
my heart.
My lovely bird the enemy had 
taken you and the person you 
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its 
intricate self and you became 
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
 
Mother, Mother what moved 
you so? 
Your intense spirt vanished only 
to supplement a monster. 
Mother, Monster and your tar 
filled lungs. 
How did I kill that liver that was 
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you 
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you 
turn?
 
My lovely bird and your big 
brown eyes
I'll tell you once, but never 
twice.
Pain is only a flower for it 
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as 
quickly as lice.
 You dear bird hurt me well. 
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest 
strength.
You brought me up, then you 
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and 
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you 
down in your deep black 
slumber. 
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Nightlight

I just want to dream a little more,

before the sun dries up this stream of thought;

before my tongue begins to search for words

faded by the choke of night.

The sky screams in the hands of a harsh turn,

neither of us wants our darkness unveiled.

Yet,

I wish the light would swallow me up as well.

Instead,

the broken slumber of day creeps into my bed,

and shakes my tomb.

I watch it stumble through the blinds,

sloshing, lazily polished, and promising.

Like it always does. 

And I try my damnedest to pull my eyes away

from the hope that is stitched to my shadow,

but no matter how hard I writhe in this place,

I cannot escape the artificiality of this world

 that I can’t seem to wake up from. 

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Couplet | |

Wine and a swine

The weaker 
the wine, 
the bleaker 
the swine.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014


Details | Blank verse | |

Mirror

Where do you go, when you fall into your own reflection? Where do you go, when you fall through your own mirror’s reflection? Where do you go, when someone looks just as you do? Where are you, when you fall into a parallel reflection? Where are you, when you feel as if you no longer exist…? Where are you, when you descend beyond the reflection and drown beneath your own mirrored image?


Details | Rhyme | |

best left unsaid

like wisps of smoke whispering, flickers hope whistling, to misty hopeless whimpering
physically choked sickened, with too much oh no, sunny gone, downhill, wrong side like mono, life can be so cold, I heard the oboe solo, in the motherland flute plays you, ways of making waves and rays when oceans arent blue, monochrome foam the root here not beer shaking up a flurry of sparkles, tears in snow globes, three cheers I don't know, cause bliss can be addicting fixed on asphyxiating whilst in a mix of medicating, anything to ease what my pain is instigating, kill the messenger cause telephones are useless as they are insinuating


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Emotional Hole

I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple 
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find 
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow


Details | Free verse | |

I Come With Love

Dead sores and bruised toes
Up and down the silent shores
Cuts deep, drilled by poisonous foes
In and out of dungeons and dangerous holes

Skeletal thin; hardly covered with skin
Shallow faced and hollowed cheeks up my chin
Been traveling in deserts violent and mean
Sad nights, weirdly pitch black and dim

Up, through and under misty mountains void of life
Stumbling and falling I walked on in the dearth of light
Now torn garments and a skeletal shadow braces my sight
Startling and bearing witness to the consequences of my fight

With bruised toes and sores thus I come
With deep cuts drilled by foes, I arrive home
Past misty mountains, through, up and above
I stoutly come home with love


Details | Free verse | |

Dying with a Smile

Love is an unspoken form of maschism
And it's slowly killing me inside.
Each minute of silence 
A lost beat of my heart.
My ribs are all knives now
Stabbing my flesh and making it bleed.
My heart feels vast, hollow
Cold,
Like a hundred story skyscraper-
its residents packed up and left suddenly with out so much as a note on the door
And their rent unpaid.
And each day my skin screams and tries to escape my body and I saw at it with broken glass in an attempt to set it free but I can't.
I am trapped.

And our love is the five ton anchor pulling me beneath the waves.
Our love is the air bubbles frothing from my mouth and the cries of my lungs as they are
filled with the sea.

And our love is the smile on my face that doesn't dare fade despite the pain.

Our love is the hope that soon
I won't need to breathe.
That the chains will break and set me free
To wash ashore with the millions of others and watch them stand up and brush the sand from their hair and turn to bask in the sun's embrace.

Our love is what breaks my legs, keeps my back to the sun and my eyes locked on the dark waters in the hopes that you will emerge and grasp my hand and help me stand! 

Our love will starve me
And burn me
And deprive me of sleep.
I will die for our love before I leave this shore without you by my side.
And maybe,
Just maybe,k
I can smile for once without the pain.


Details | Free verse | |

The Caged Bird

Four white walls
and a bird,
trapped in steel cage
not free, not happy.
The walls they laugh,
closing in, holding
the bird hostage.
No windows,
no doors,
just four white walls
closing in,
on the caged bird.

I hear crying,
tears of sorrow,
so sweet, yet so sour.
It is the bird
trapped in the rusted cage-
No, just my soul
crying out,
for a warm embrace.

11-10-2013


Details | Free verse | |

GROWING UP

On the empty floors I am watching the nights roll
flowing in other nights.
Nature's mirror has come to give birth and to destroy
the typhoons are embracing me, an unstoppable power
in my two arms.
Between logic and the holy the notions are lost
I am turning blue inside the sky's blue.
And I return again and again to repay the same sin
upon which my own blood has dropped
and with blood I try for centuries to pay.
My form is drawing circles
-what is your name?-my name is Human.
Can this mortality embrace the darkness?
Can my bare hands hold within them the air?
I was born for the renaissance of colours,
I threw green and yellow at the edge of the horizon,
I painted red the lost dreams of history
and I placed white on all the spots of the sky.
I was born to destroy and I dig pits everyday,
I bury inside them living truths and I cover them with shovel and water.
Be quiet! The seasons are sleeping...
With small knives I carve the corners of the world
until I find the bone to puncture it, deeper and deeper.
Our fears are breaks of the Universe
they are transfered from planet to planet,
they change orbit, while cleaving the clouds.
''Learn how to walk, learn how to talk, learn how to kiss, learn how to leave, learn how to love, learn how to kill"...
Hollow bodies at the mountains top are burning with the flames of redemption.
They carry the same rock everyday, everynight until they reach the end,
the end that doesn't exist.
They fill the glasses with water, the glasses that dont have bottom.
Don't ask me to change the world, you only gave me soil but you have forgotten the water
and with hands dry and dirty I collect time to repay you
for your graces, because there is light and there is darkness, because I stop in front of red and I walk in front of green.
But you don't know, you don't, that I find strenght everyday, since I opened my eyes,
I am preparing in silence and I am clentcing my teeth
because the time will come, when I will throw a big punch at this carton world,
I will tear it up in half and I will see what lies behind,
behind the lie.
Shaken off from my dirty morality
I will touch the sacred redemption
I will wake up from the dream,
I will embrace at last, for the first time, reality.


Details | Free verse | |

Another Night of Dread

It is dark and night outside my window,
and in the soundless, lit confines of my 
room I sit at my old, ivory desk 

cheerless

and anxious with dread for what the rest
of another night may bring.

My ostomy bag, an abhorrent creature that 
hugs precariously on one side of my abdomen,
covers my raw and fleshy stoma underneath. 

Against my desire, the stoma continually oozes  
feces and waste 

like a sewer into the ostomy bag, which, 
every seven days or so ruptures its seal 
and transforms into

a stinking and rancid cabbage

whose fetid odor refuses to stop emanating 
until the entire, offensive beast is immediately 
uprooted from my body.

So, I sit at my ancient, ivory desk, writing 
these cherry-picked words to express

the anxiety and the doldrums 
of another night;  

and the lonely, isolating, embarrassing, humiliating,
ego-wiping, self-esteem killing, mind-numbing, 
soul-shattering, universal, all-embracing, 
omni-present 

stench 

that weekly offends my nostrils and fills my lungs 
because of a thoroughly used-up ostomy bag that 
needs to be removed immediately

like an old, decaying vegetable 
that has outlived its 
freshness--

It is another cheerless night in the same, old
cheerless space: 

the nose-blistering smell, however, is only for 
another night...


Details | I do not know? | |

Distant African Nights

Those Distant African Nights...


1.


The shadows swayed in your candlelit room,

a cool breeze teasing your bare back,


streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night,

as my hands stroked your hair,

kissing your soft mouth,

holding you,

ever so tight.



2.


You whispered that you loved me,

and I kept silent,


the rain fell, 
shadows danced,
thunder rolled,

the breeze teased your naked back,

you whispered that you loved me,
as my lips found yours,

the rain washed over our tender nights,


lightning and candlelight,

etching poems on your burnished skin,


yet,

a fear gnawed at me,

deep within.



3.


We parted ways,
and you could never forgive me, you said,


now, after numberless thunderstorms,

the rain that falls,


echo the countless tears that I have shed.



4.


You are long gone,

far away,

happy, I pray,


yet the memories persist,

those precious moments shall never, 
ever,

like the Jo'burg rains,
trickle away,

and I wish you well,
for loving me as you did,

for it was I who was not worthy,


then,


and it is I who is not worthy,


now...



5.


You were always true,


it was I who always,

always,

refused to,


to give myself,


completely to you.






Details | Free verse | |

Hard to Not Look, Easy to stay Staring

I've allowed that burning boat to float off without me
Rarely ever thinking about dissipating the flames, 
As it is hardly worth the time and effort. 
In Truth, 
There wasn't much of a future with that situation.
No matter the attempts
No matter the appeal
It was all for naught
The only thing I worry about now
Is looking back at the Flames
And hoping I am not entranced
By their Dancing Light


Details | Rhyme | |

Assuage Life

I'm the One to who you should pray;
I'm the Voice that shall never fade away,
I'm the Daemon that haunts your 3am sleep,
I'm the Whisper that eases your weep...

And in this novella, your lissome dreams,
I'm your nightmare; your midnight screams!
- I'm the Yeshua that can make pain fade,
I'm the abolition of the razorblade...

Clad in shadow I stalk your soul,
Invisible but yet in perfect control.
Thus let my voice be your destination
Away from a world with flawed harmonization.

So why cope with a life so bleak?
which has done nothing more but make you weak?
Take my hand and I'll assuage it,
Follow me down to Death's tethered pit...

Here we are, welcome to the Abyss,
Don't worry about people, you won't be amiss.
Give me a smile, a shotgun smile,
Don't worry about pain, atleast not for a while!

Aw, how your mind was delicately bent,
Like the Eye on the Earth's breast you'll descent,
Deep in it's crust, to Oblivion you fell;
A warm hearted welcome to Lucifer's Hell...


Details | Free verse | |

The Anatomy of What Disgusts

A stoma and a scar 
like the Grand Canyon
form a conspiracy 
against my body. 
The stoma--raw and 
fleshy--looks like a red 
and beefy barnacle on 
my side that constantly 
oozes and drains feces 
and waste like an 
overflowing, backyard 
cesspool. It sickens me.

Near the red and moist 
stoma lies a huge, 
crooked scar on my 
stomach and abdomen. 
It is like the Grand 
Canyon of Arizona--an 
immense displacement 
of the local landscape, 
only instead of earth 
and rock and soil it is 
my skin and muscle 
and tissue that has been 
gouged away. Like my
stoma, it sickens me as
well. Because of them
both, my body now
feels to me like the 
raw anatomy of 
what's disgusting.


Details | Free verse | |

Memories Made

The coldest white had fell
Surrounding all the feet of those behind
The day turned into hours
Just in the mind
Did the gift appear in night?
Or were dreams reality?
Did it come from karma’s hands?
It drifts from sanity

The trek towards that happy place
You’ve been there many times
Something was different now
It held a horrible surprise
The box wasn’t full of life and sound
The ashes of memories made were here
Taking longer to twist the knife
Left remains of a child now in tears

Standing still you couldn’t breath
Excuses flying in your mind
Trying to figure out the scene
Hoping there’s time
You look up to see
Expectant eyes for the last time
You wish you could keep
But it’s the saddest of a smile 


Details | Prose | |

Doubting the Stars

Everyone sees something different when they look up into the stars. Somewhere there’s a young boy dreaming of becoming the first astronaut to meet new life, on a distant planet. Far away, or maybe just down the street there is an old woman hoping that once her bones meet Earth’s hallowed chamber; her soul will soar into the heavens and her life will become a part of the light that breaks the void between life and death. Her journey, finally becoming as eternal as she always hoped it could be. Some just look up and feel infinitesimal, a speck of dust in a vast and obscure reality. Others simply feel a sense of calm as their distant glow sends tides of vague understanding into their pondering souls, unable to fully grasp the endearing mystery of their presence. I’ve always felt the latter, when I gazed up into the night sky I always knew somewhere deep inside that I wasn’t alone. That something was looking down; not aliens, not a burning celestial knot of souls, but something beyond human understanding..something that tonight seems unfathomable and out of reach. When I was young, I had a form of recklessly unbreakable faith that at the time I thought could not be torn by anything. I had a soul, and a pure heart that would break for anyone, as long as someone was there to mend it, at day’s end. I was sure that there would always be someone. Sure that this world was built by grace and endured by love. But tonight, no hope radiates down, I feel nothing, no presence, no understanding, vague or otherwise. Tonight I am simply biology’s cause and effect. The swelling of impure neurons tossed around in the fatty tissue of a confused brain casts doubt of any sort of happy ending. I am sure that someday gravity will take its toll and do its work. Maybe we will get it right next time. 
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Blank verse | |

Black death

Black death

Death lives, tangled in the forest of darkness.
The black bloodhound stalks
the beasts in your dreaming.
The sun will be sucked from your sight
to blind you to the truth.
When evening retreats to darkness
beware of the ghosts of fear. 
Sleep in the wilderness of terror 
that haunts your forsaken ground.
The coming of morning’s spears
will stab your eyes with golden light.
The high sun of noon will fill your dark soul with life.



Details | Rhyme | |

Our politicians

Our Politicians
They speak like politicians
And hold a great ambition.
They think they are right
And same speech they recite.
They always gather for a bite
Deciding who should start the fight.
All have their own stations
To be the victims of cremation.
They gather their own crowd
Who cheer and clap to any sound.
They think they are right
Only here for a bite.
They speak like Aristo
And act like Montecristo!
They smoke big cigars
And all drive tinted cars.
They dress in glitter
And all have Twitter.
They act so polite
But hardly can write.
Always in action
Only during the election.
To make a collection
Or a connection.
O What a time you feel like 
Committing a crime.

For a brief background about this poem, pls, read the poem (Beirut).


Details | Free verse | |

Behind Closed Doors

Heart of Gold,
calming tides
holding on, hands intertwined.

The ironman
so bold, so brave.
An injured deer
step forth to save.

No echoing groans.
No sorrowing pleas.
Hard to see what lies beneath.

There are storms and guilt, rejection, betrayal
gnawing and snapping at his core.
But doesn't let a single salty drip ever hit the floor.

This is where he hides,
Behind Closed Doors.




Details | Free verse | |

the tides are rising

My heart is heavy from the waiting.
Lonely from sitting in silence
with nothing but my own inadequacies
to balm the wounds time festers.

Patiently abiding the time of recognition
when fate bows down and bestows a grace
sacrificing these tribulations for the mercy of love,
I wait for the coming of salvation
the benediction of true loves embrace.

The tides are rising-
and the binding on my soul is strong
am I to die a martyr?
With imminent despair I implore
come home and untie me...


Details | Free verse | |

The Sculptor

I feel Him chip away at my flesh.
The vibrations shake to my bones.
Pieces that were once part of me now fall helplessly to the floor.

Every scrape of the chisel,
Every pound of the hammer,
Every piece that is broken from me stings with immense pain.

Why doesn't He stop?
Why is The Sculptor so cruel?
Doesn't He realize that each swing He takes is a nightmare to me?

I would be better off as stone that was never touched,
I would be more content without the suffering that comes apon me,
But I wouldn't be a work of art.

Each chip of the chisel is intended to remove a piece that shouldn't be there.
Each pound of the hammer is meant to force the hideous fragments far from me.
Each move The Sculptor makes, takes me closer to His plan for me.

I must trust, knowing that He never takes off too much.
I must be ready, knowing that He never leaves His work incomplete.
I must be thankful, knowing that I am being made beautiful in His eyes.

The acute pain is only a short part of His plan.
The lasting anguish fades in its own time.
Though heart, and soul, and body all grieve, the permanent state will be that of finished work.

I may not know the reason for each strike,
I may not know the fault with each sundered chunk,
And I may never know.

I know the sting of the chisel now,
I know The Sculptor has a plan,
My part is to trust that He will not work forever ... but that He will be done.


Details | I do not know? | |

For Bob Dylan

Ramblin' Bob Dylan Blues
(For Bob Dylan)



Why does the sun dry up so many scattered tears

slipping down the coarse cheek of a million hushed fears

where no one is scalded though the searing fog clears

while prayers are mutely spoken even as the end nears

We shatter and scrape on demented knees

Blindly begging for mercy as it silently flees

Searching listlessly for salvation drowned in the breeze

That spits at the soft rose suffocated by a wheeze


I know now what I need never have known

Of hope that was trampled before it had flown

Into a wasted sky filled with hate that could drown

The giggling of the crowd and the crying of the clown


A hope so fragile that its wings were of brittle glass

Ripping the veneer off the sewers of class

Twisting the fabric of the weighed and costed mass

Who numbly waited hoping that it too may pass


For when shards of that hope in all hearts scurries away

To a darkness where crowded night is emptied off the heaving tray

'Tis then when sewn eyes shall behold that doleful day

When all shall tear at each other while on demented knees we still shall pray


For a lifting of the veil of that wilful deceit

That's wrapped up in a flag swollen with conceit

While the limbs splinter in the claw of a winner's defeat

Yet still the drums roll for the ill-fated souls chose never to retreat


From that drenched battle-ground where blood flows through a sieve

And love's lost song plaintively begs for a reprieve

From eternal loss which into raw emotion does cleave

Only to slip through the fingers and like grains of sand, leave.


Details | I do not know? | |

Saturday Rain in Johannesburg

Saturday Rain in Johannesburg…


…With sighs of torrential passion,
the heavens shower teardrops,

weeping with me,
as memories of you come cascading back,

skin on skin, ablaze,
moist kisses, fiery,
gentle whispers of undying love, murmured,

in another life, another time,

far removed from my present, a desolate state of despair,
wallowing in the grime.

…

The rain keeps falling,
each teardrop stinging my face,

tasting the salt on my lips,

I wonder, do you still remember the caresses of my fingertips,

between breathy confessions, and vows of eternal love,

before you left me, stranded on an island of solitude,

wounded as a wingless dove,

bereft of life,
stripped of all traces of fortitude


Details | Free verse | |

Faith Healer

The odor is intolerable
Like a foul beast clinging to the end 
I can barely subdue its subterfuge 
But here I am, 
I’m standing here of sound and mind
Waiting for the time that answers my own questions

Can it race with the fires of Orc?
Doubtful, but it can jog steadily can’t it?
The weather is awful, filled with sounds
Penetrating a document not written
It pains me to fight through the night
Not because it’s dark, but because I am just a shadow.

Lester drives but
Motional lasts forever
Still driving
Still crying
And slowly dying as time waves on
Like oceans that can’t be seen.

Nobody cares and everyone listens
Ironic, like a bible that holds lies and deception
Can its will be pierced?
Can freedom stay free?
Is it worth it to stay hooked when everyone around
Seeks liberty?


Details | Free verse | |

I arose

I arose

I arose from the fire
And saw nothing but dust
Swaying in the wind,
which gust wildly from left to right
And right to left

I arose from the fire
And saw no water;
The lakes and oceans
Dried up, like desert oasis
In the plain silent seas of love

I arose from heartbreak and sorrow,
To await for me on the tops of golden caped mountains
for me much more heartbreak and sorrow
That arises with the flames,
Follows not a storm of water, to sooth the sorrow,
But more fire to endure the pain of heartbreak

I arose to dust and ash
In a nightmare called “life”
And it was hell,
It still is hell,
But I still arise to a new day in hell.

-11-16-2013-


Details | Free verse | |

Broken Heart Wing Bird

Broken-Heart-Wing Bird
Alone On Limb, So Scared
Lost The Skill To Fly
& Will To Live or Try
(Watch The Raindrops Cry)

Broken-Heart-Wing Bird
O' Have You Not Heard?
The Wind's Song Sung For You? ...
Across The Sky It Blew
(Lifting Higher Hopes Anew)

Broken-Heart-Wing Bird
ONE, Calling You Has Cared
Keeps You Safe From Harm
Caressed & Sheltered From The Storms
(Your Broken-Heart-Wing Form)

Broken-Heart-Wing Bird
Be Not Dismal Nor Deterred
If On Harsh Land, You're Grounded
JAH Will Float You On Faith Well-Founded
(in Aerial-Miracles Heaven's Son Surmounted)

Broken-Heart-Wing Bird
Beauty-Vision Be Not Blurred
If Confined To Empty-Nests
Take Twigs of Time To Conquer Tests
(and Let Broken-Heart-Wing Rest)

... Gain Strength, Wisdom & Wit
Eagle-Span, Horizon's Width
Let Beating In Breast Be Stirred
Get Better, Broken-Heart-Wing Bird
(GOD's Tree of Life For You Is Shared)

Stretch Your Feathers To The Sun
"Trust" Is A Light-Flight, Bidding "Come!"
and Love Is The Soaring, Wonder-Word
That Heals All Broken-Heart-Wing Birds
(Even From Death's Cages - We're Set Free & Spurred)

So Find Those Behind Dark Bars & Buried
Tell Aviaries Everywhere How You Were Carried!
Upon The Path - Straight & Narrow
Thru Your Single,  Sorrow-Arrow
(as A Broken-Heart-Wing Sparrow) ...

'Til The Broken-Heart-Wing Bird
Could Soar Again - Superb! ...


             Written & Copyrighted ©: 10/08/2012 
                         by:  MoonBee Canady





Details | Free verse | |

Blank Slate

Vision is flexed
No way in
Try to come about
Straighten in a dulled storm
There is no mental form
How can I paint with no canvas
Tunnel vision eyes fixed
Onto a point that doesn't exist
All by myself hide by myself
Suddenly a spike in red internally
Kill to feel anger
Bridge the gap of voids
Drown inside a chemical cocktail
To tell myself that I feel something
But to come down and not drown
Is that the large fear
To find there isn't a glass to fill
Feeling like an echo ghost
Stalking around the other lives
Hiding from their leering eyes
And their clicking teeth of spite
No chemical cure
For their perceived hate
So instead I'll stay here
And live in a blank slate


Details | Free verse | |

My Secret Prison

Trapped again!

Maze hidden cheddar eluding 
every twisting turn a doorway 
to the path I’ve already forgotten
a spirit broken within each hidden cul-de-sac.

I cry.

Depression building my will 
crumbling into fatal despair
that rages with a whisper
as quiet as a hurricane.

I sleep.

I scream at one wall 
HA! HA! HA!
hundreds more continue laughing.
Right! Left! NO! RIGHT! Left! Right! LEFT! YES! Right!

I succumb.

Cheddar thoughts and running 
water sustain my desire to escape
through walls of scent
filled dreams of freedom.

I laugh.

Test complete. Failure.
Should have smelled for Camembert.


Details | Free verse | |

Coming on Home

Coming on home,
in a rain storm on the 4th of July,
watching the neon colors of explosions
blowing high up in the dark, purple sky
spraying joy and happiness with designs
of man's love and creation.
Coming on home to a place
that is warm in the heart,
but cold in the mind of harsh memories
and of brushed fingertips and slashed backs
and broken bones and snapped spines;
warm in the heart... coming home to my baby
whose been gone for way too long,
and it's time for her to come home now!

Coming on home with a suitcase full of nothing,
and a book full of nothing,
and shoes and pants and a shirt and jacket filled with nothing,
coming on home with nothing,
nothing... at all-
Brains full of nothing but wasted air
and a mind full of broken dreams and worries
that snap in a moment's notice
without hesitation break my own back and snap my fingers
and blind my eyes with lye and grin at me,
as I come on home to nothing-

Coming on home,
homecoming,
a crown and sash(Homecoming King and Queen)
the dance, all the pretty girls dressed in white and blue
and the football game,
the home team loses by a touchdown,
but the kids they're still cheering and the cheerleaders do backflips
and smile and laugh,
the quarterback kisses his girlfriend on the fifty yard marker,
that was used for a battlefield;
(Boy, what a happy couple, voted the cutest couple in the Senior Polls)
Coming on home,
nothing special,
just another year with the same old heartbreak and sorrow
and same old smiles and frowns and dances and games
and cars that roam freely up and down the highways
and side streets going 90 in a 25.
Coming on home to a dark world
and for a moment everything is quiet
and sincere, and bang!!!
A high school romance that was never meant to become
was destroyed by envy and jealousy,
and this poem was written out of tears and a broken heart,
that has been shielded by smiles that hurt my face,
and tears held back that blinded my eyes,
and a scream that couldn't come out,
so it sits there, a lump in my throat
and this is the only way I can get it out,
by coming on home,
and writing this poem,
in peace and quiet.

.1.24.2014.


Details | Free verse | |

The Darkest Place

The fall comes early to frost covered souls
bound in damp, worn wool blankets
barefoot wanderings
over cold birch branches, sticks,
crack covered ground

thorns, thistles, briars
scratch, pierce the skin
tug at the coverings
lay bare
the naked heart

to face the hollow cold
without purpose
only a ceaseless longing
alone.


Details | I do not know? | |

A Hollow Shell

a hollow shell
of tangled synapses
sparked into gradual madness
which drowns out the truths of the day
as the mind reeks of the rotten sad moments
that swirl in the rancid soup of forgotten dreams
dreams that once traced a gentle path of innocence
dreams that reached for pure love’s tender touch
dreams now paralysed but once vivaciously alive
what became of those fresh dreams and hopes
as they lie mustily on dusty bookshelves
torn into shreds by time’s fine scimitar
devoid of the touch of raw passion
when all that remains of love is
a hollow shell


Details | Free verse | |

Lights

Lights

They talk about searching for the light,
To look into it and find something new.
We see them when we’re speeding down the highway at 2.AM – 
Nowhere to go but in such a hurry to get there.
They speak of finding the light at the end of the tunnel
But do they tell you of what’s after the light?
Is it another journey to find a brighter light,
To make this world all the more uplifting.
Or does it make the world even more torturous;
To all who have glared into this fake mysterious journey.

The metaphor of light isn’t always what it turns out to be.
Happiness and cruelty.
You can choose these by a switch of a light – 
From the dream that occurs by the light in your mind
Or the brutality of preventing yourself
From the world that becomes above all more painful.

Hazardous lights cause warning to those afraid of danger,
While others see it as an exit route to another destination.
The light shining from the moon keeping us safe from all around
Can still make its way to the death of those alone on the streets.
The peasants dying on the side of the pavement
Can see themselves in the reflection in the puddle they lie beside;
With the sun shining brightly onto their faces,
Making them wish they were shining
Like those who have seemed to have found their light.
With their last breath it will all disappear-
All hopes and dreams destroyed in a second,
That they thought could come true,
After sixty-two years of living a lie.

The light cannot be complete without the darkness
As for the creation of light there must be a dark.
It prevents itself from becoming weak
By the power of both controlling man,
Leaving them scattered across their land
After searching most their lives for the thing they believed in.


Details | I do not know? | |

Wanderer

I, the wanderer, set out;
A journey 
to overcome life’s oppression.
Fear crouches;
Always ready to attach depression.
Lurking, 
life so unfair;
Monster in my dreams,
Waiting to unleash despair.

So many thoughts,
I hold desperately to hope,
To persevere and overcome
On this journey for which I’ve come.
Dare I trust while darkness enfolds? 
Tired and often overwhelmed,
 To hope I hold.
Trusting peace will come again
When darkness disappears
Because love will triumph
And light dispels my fears.

I, the wanderer, set out;
A journey to overcome;
To see how far I’ve come;
Trust elusive as fear encroaches, 
Peace reproaches;
But darkness stays the course
With no remorse. 


Details | Free verse | |

Salvation

Hollow dreams and empty screams, nothing but dust, rust, and blood soaked efforts dried up and crust, kicking up a fuss. When I wonder, nothing but plunder after plunder, the bank account tumbling, and rumbling down its due course to its death after it has come apart fumbling. Alas, the end is nigh, when we will sit up high, looking down and around, at the people on the ground, when we no longer touch the dirt with our scarred feet; the day we become found.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Bar Scene

Cold hearts sway to timid tones.
We hum hard; hoping to rattle the 
grit out of our mouths.
Sand blasted teeth resonate youthful
denial, torturing revelation’s bargain.
No cheap tricks. No sunshine,
we’re all gone.
Too drunk on pain,
to find hope in the rainfall of liquor 
in this dusty scene.
Too many empty bottles chugging
on air; the last breaths of my generation.
A swirling vortex of broken condoms
and vomited promises dance in neon 
light behind the bar, threatening to dive
into the mouth of the next patron that 
calls to the bartender.
A violent eyed harlot with dollars
bursting out of her bra.
She serves death with a smile,
gyrating her hips to a beat
…that never dances.
She just throws ice into
our blood and glances at 
the tip jar..
Knowing we’ll pay our own
way to hell.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Prose | |

My Heartstrings

I had her shoe in hand
Her fragrance hesitant to leave the room
The clock  had struck midnight 
And my Cinderella left my heart
Leaving me clinging to the memories I had of her

See, she came with the promise to love
One of a kind, pure like a dove 
But all she did was dance and make merry
For by midnight she had to hurry

As fast as she came, she left
In anguish i cried out loud and wept
The chord on my heart strings 
Turned from a ballard to a dirge
And each pluck of the string took me back to my oblivion
Where love was a distant past and an improbale future


Details | I do not know? | |

The fitness

Jumping the jam

I am peter pan

Doing a man
don't know his name at this dam

Down-stream is a clam
-up is a nap
I creak when I walk
never stop for talk

Just smoke a lot
and hope for a magical robot
to intercept the hotness right outta the golf

Reading a lot
speeding at the shop

Rotating at the main evacuation
Suffocating during masterb#***$!

Stoning without stoners to bank it
Waiting for sin to just spank it!

I read the riddles
And rape the shingles
-right off red roofs
of old men sitting in bagels

I retort the regime
I run from the scene

I do all the same drugs

I hate all the same thugs

Repeat
Reside
-get plastered

Stay dry
Hope for a lie
-or a great big mistake to reap me outta my life

Listing of the faults

Acts like a dog

Whiffle of the ball
Hope it curves well

Long for the flavor
The deep deep major

In the college of favors
I’d do it all for a pager

 

					


Details | I do not know? | |

Prisoners

There is a box inside my head, pushed right back , far away,
And my thoughts they tiptoe round it, as quiet as they may –
Just in case the lock is broken and the casket springs wide open,
And the strangling, dark, slithery contents cascade upon the floor,
And the horrors that lurk within rise and drown my thoughts out with a roar.

For the box is home to all my deepest loathsome shame,
The malformed, grinning, spiteful thoughts, crawling along half-lame,
Who converge and box me into a corner, and wail and clamour like a mourner
And beat me half to death with the awful things I’ve said and done,
And won’t even leave when dawn is nigh – they just eclipse the sun.

They pull back my sleeves to show the scars carved into my skin,
Remind me how I’m prone to neglecting all my kith and kin,
And how I became an empty husk and how, from morning until dusk,
I lay and wept for hours and hours, never quite knowing why,
And they whisper softly, sweetly, they won’t leave before I die.

Eventually, I find the strength to throw them back where they belong,
Into the dark, into the abyss, and I scream that they’re all wrong.
At last the torture session is done, and I can step out into the sun,
Let its gentle warmth soothe my latest battle aches and pains.
But even as I do so – always – the locked box rattles at its chains.


Details | Free verse | |

The Cold Blues

I wake up in the morning
and everyone around me is dreaming
of good old times and future smiles.
I move around, almost floating like a Phantom
and I stand in the middle of the hallway,
and the carpet tickles my feet
and I can't help but giggle inside.
The lights are off
and the windows all open,
a gust of wind blows through
knocking things over and turning the atmosphere upside down,
and I start to shiver and my teeth start to chatter.
It's cold! I say, it is cold,
I feel all alone, in the cold
no one around to warm me up,
no hot chocolate, no warm milk,
no jacket or a hat- not even a scarf to keep my neck warm,
nothing...
It's cold and I have a headache now,
dancing to beating drums inside my head,
and I can't make the party stop up there,
in that vase place of darkness and imagination;
but I try to sing along to the whispering winds
that sound like the ghosts of dead coming back for one last kiss,
I sing along with the walling winds,
and suddenly the cold goes away and I start to warm up
to the situation at hand.
Pictures in the sitting room are on the ground, glass shattered everywhere,
and the fireplace with a dying fire still going-
till the gust of wind comes back to end its last flame.
I sit on a ran-sacked sofa,
ripped and the cushions bleeding out,
the springs jump up and poke me in the butt,
and I can hear the silent footsteps of boots clamping here and there
over in the foyer footprints of ghosts' boots that trailed along in snow
appear to me and I stop and wonder what has come of me.
The Cold comes back and straightens me in and pushes me down
and cools me off- thinking too much- stop it!
The Cold Blues gets you sometimes,
and it's unbearable to live with them.

.1.25.2014.


Details | I do not know? | |

SSRI's and I

SSRI's and I ...


... the sounds of thoughts clattering, my neurones sparking,
like Dylan said, my morning recedes jingling and a-jangling,

worn down by this leaden knot, tearing my insides out,
the cacophony drowned in a whisper, lost in a silent shout,

dreams and screams scratching the back of my dry throat,
caged in, liberation hovering like a mirage beyond the moat.


I claw my way, slowly, through a thicket of solitude,
feeling my emotions peeling, stung by unseen nettles,

crawling to an open field, to rest, beneath a sky ablaze with stars,
as my mind glides, brushing the soft grass as it peacefully settles ...







Details | Free verse | |

Bygone Days

The sick sadistic people that torture the kid
Thinking of thoughts to fascinating in sin
Hiding behind a stature of loneliness he hates
A time warp in his chest it elates
Swaying through time with no cause or mentality
He don't want to feel like a congenital abnormality
Piercing his mind with no anesthesia
Mind caught in the lake of amnesia
Grasping towards another minoral fate
Sometimes in this bygone world its too late
Suffering a wraith in his vivacious serenity
So sad and unaware with no amenity
This boy has suffered for a time of days
Like most diverse and beseeching in many ways
But tampered with is his lamp of time
Puppet strings in his head now a mime 
The prescription of happiness is a lie
Bury the darkness as a maggot one day be a fly
This is the torture of a teen so young
Now no speech they take your tongue
Its over
Its over
Slit it in his own health
Slayed down for his enlightened death....


Details | I do not know? | |

Ludwig and Vincent

Ludwig & Vincent...


‘They said that you were mad, Vincent’, whispered Ludwig to a silent Vincent.


‘I still am, quite insane’, replied Vincent, ‘but you, dear Ludwig, you were deaf, and mad, I hear’.


‘I listened with my soul, Vincent, I heard it all without hearing a sound. Yes, mad and deaf indeed I too, still am’, Ludwig said, smiling at Vincent.


‘just look at them now’, Vincent replied, smiling with Ludwig, ‘look at them now, as they hawk sunflowers, blissfully oblivious of exquisite starry nights’.


‘yes’, smiled Ludwig, ‘look at them now, they crave joy, yet they cannot hear an ode, dear Vincent, they cannot hear it! They do not care enough to hear’.


‘Yes, dear Ludwig’, Vincent sighed, ‘they do not care enough to hear’.


Ludwig and Vincent smiled, each tugging an ear.


Details | Free verse | |

Worth the Read

I have bookshelves of heartache
that I haven't written yet,
bloodstained pages of regret
that I haven't found words for,
a pen that always runs out of ink
in the most inopportune of moments.
Leaving me breathless in a storm of quiet,
thunderous discontent.
Everyone has a story;
I'm still stitching this one together,
one stanza at a time.
I only hope, after all of this..
It will be worth the read. 
 
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | I do not know? | |

Awake at Midnight

Awake at Midnight

sleep retreats
into tunnels of dewy thoughts

teasing the worn mind

awake at midnight
dreams recede

into caverns of mist
to brew their hazy potions

awake at midnight
weariness seduces the being

seeking to slip away
thirsting for solace in
the numbness of slumber
awake at midnight

still.


Details | I do not know? | |

They Do Not See Me at All

They Do Not See Me at All

they do not see me at all...

as I walk through these desecrated avenues

of soul-deadening frenzy

I see them all rushing past me

and no matter how hard I try to holler and to call

they do not see me at all

it seems at times, that invisible am I

for when I reach out, and shriek out, and when on my knees I crawl

they rush past me

for they do not see me at all

I have tried to raise their ire, I have taunted and goaded them, till exhausted and fatigued, to the cold damp ground I fall

still they rush past me

for they do not see me at all

I stand mutely then and wave my hands all around while scribbling verses in my unintelligible scrawl

and yet they rush past me

for they do not see me at all

they rush past me, knocking me over without ever looking back

and then trampling over my fallen form, they look past my limp crumpled shadow, as they whine on in their monotonous drawl

for they do not see me at all

and when at last I see them look my way, and as a flicker of recognition crosses their faces

I wish to crawl back into my nothingness

where they cannot see me at all


Details | I do not know? | |

The Weight to Bare

Irrelevant notions and unrequited motions,
move me to a separate shore. 

I dive into complicated coves and muddled waters. 
To only be drowned,
by the weight of my own.

Washed atop a jagged ridge, 
I'm frigid by the cold. 
The cold feeling of desperate breath, I'll soon realize I'm alone. 

In this vast ocean, I'll have to dive.
Because to stay on this cold stoned bed...alone.
I'd surely die.

But where do I swim?
But towards rough waters.
For those waves, push me.
They push me farther.