Why does the sunrise fill you with hope and light a candle in your soul?
Why does a fast moving river fill you with courage as it rushes to the sea?
Why does puppy breath fill you with contentment?
Why does a star winking in the velvet sky make you want to wink back?
Why does the smell of a baby’s head fill you with joy?
Why do you believe there are secrets in the blink-less stare of a cat?
Why do you run from the rain? Why not dance in it?
Copyright © Trisha Sugarek | Year Posted 2018
Whatever
It is what it is, whatever it is
Of that there can be no dispute
For whatever it is, it is what it is
That’s something no one can refute
And although it might be that it might not quite be
What you thought it might be there’s no doubt,
As they say in the biz, it is what it is
It’s not hard to figure it out.
Now perhaps what it could be, is not what it would be
Though just what it should be, who knows,
So whatever it is, it is what it is,
And that is as far as it goes.
Copyright © Kit Webbe | Year Posted 2018
Firstly,
waking up to your thoughts,
is not what I really do.
Secondly,
slothing around, thinking about you,
is not what I really do.
However,
doesn't mean that I love you no longer,
nor that I don't miss you.
When I manifest my fascination,
about something I love,
and there's no one who discerns,
that's when I miss you most.
When I speak my mind out,
about our insignificance in the cosmos,
and I'm met with vacant stares,
that's when I miss you most.
When I am gloomy,
about something I'd bungled,
and I no longer hear your reassuring voice,
that's when I miss you most.
Every time I be someone,
someone I am not,
and when I remember who I was with you,
that's when I miss you most.
Copyright © Agastya Dev | Year Posted 2018
im tired of old wannabes, trying to diss a generation they will never be,
never see, Now the leader of these wannabes is one nick trim, particularly
old and dim. the new generation is active and caring, loving, not easily scaring, and im tired of people, afraid, dissing us just because, they cant be easily missing us, and i want to make our voices heard, to stand up to an angry herd.
noone i know actually cares about actual social media affairs, so face your fears.
Response to "The Social Media Generation"
(by a 12 year old)
Copyright © Him Son | Year Posted 2018
I would like to make the words you speak the sound that moves my soul
I love it when I can see my reflection mirrored in your eyes
As it means your stood beside me making me whole
My essence, my emotions, my being you have stole
I hope you know you make my heart flutter like the wings of a butterfly
I would like to make the words you speak the sound that moves my soul
Can I find the expressions, your beauty to extol?
Now if I could only ensnare you then I would have won the prize
As it means your stood beside me making me whole
Together we could be in Edens garden for a stroll
I could never live without you, I hope you realize
I would like to make the words you speak the sound that moves my soul
Your utter beauty makes me lose all my self-control
My love for you will never be the reason for my demise
As it means your stood beside me making me whole
But I can never find you, your hidden in some bolt hole
So until that day I find you my love will slowly die
I would like to make the words you speak the sound that moves my soul
As it means your stood beside me making me whole
Copyright © steve pen | Year Posted 2018
Where really do the truths lie
In a world of perpetual lies
Where yesterday is forgotten
Under the expanse of stormy skies
We turn our minds from them
Lay unfair blame to their woes and plight
Yet never really see their faces
And course we made them fight
We keep reaching for new horizons
Complex structures with such display and pride
Yet somewhere in the still
Rests a place where truth abides
We meet them in the street
We say hello to be polite
But each conceal decided feelings
Of what each thinks is just and right
Can we go on in silent mistrust
Will discontent turn to hate
Will love forever change the untruths
Or will our world collapse under their weight
Copyright © Clarrie Moore | Year Posted 2018
Look at the tree,
Such a majestic piece of nature.
A glorious insight into God's creation;
What a lovely sight.
Its strength,
The hope, just a sapling.
The light it brings to the world.
The representation of growth and endurance,
Through the drought, it deepened its roots.
The trial prepared it for a hurricane...
Look at the tree,
It has hope,
Its given up its blossoms.
And still holds beauty and strength,
It continues to grow,
Though it is slow, it is surviving,
It has dealt with much but still gives fruit to the world...
Providing for the many at the expense of itself, Little by little....
Look at the tree,
It is brittle, thin,
Withering away, its only goal is to hold on.
It dies as it tries to give fruit, fruit that no one can use,
It cannot provide for the world anymore.
What will it do?
Its reason for it thinning and sheading its layers,
freezing in the winter,
crying silently as it looses the few leaves it could grow.
Wishing for pollen, or help of some kind...
Look at where the old tree once grew,
It did not survive,
In the world it wished to thrive.
The soil doesn't miss it,
It took what little nutrients it could get,
Barely holding on.
Growing for the sake of a world that is no longer there,
Wanting to take care,
To help.
To love,
And never give up!
It was truly beautiful when it died,
you could see all the damage that it took,
and its resilience...
Copyright © Joslin Hartge | Year Posted 2018
I am trapped in a world that I created, I cannot get out
It is a dark world broken into many pieces
That is how I feel, Shattered
My body cannot move, I feel lazy or better yet paralyzed
I cannot feel a thing, although my world is built of pain and agony, stress and depression
I am confused; I do not know what I am
However, I am human if that's what you are asking
The real question here is, am I a man?
Nevertheless, it is always more than just one question
Who am I? Have I been living a lie?
If there is one thing I have learned in life is that there will always be unanswered questions
Are you out there?
If you are reading this, I hope it is not too late because I need help
I am trapped in a world that I created, I cannot get out.
Copyright © Lourens K. Samtaka | Year Posted 2018
Songs that make me want to fall in love
Even though I know it's false
But the emotions that make my heart flutter
The emotions that make me fly like a dove
jackets and the harsh smell of leather
When i'm dancing with you
I feel light as a feather
A dance that i'll never rue
I'll give you my heart under false pretenses
I wont mind
Even though my heart is surrounded by barbed wire fences
But your eyes still look more kind
Time passes and neon lights die
Under my bed , i'll cry
Alone without you
My future that i sadly knew
Your boney fingers that lures me closer
This ride im in with you is a rollercoaster
All these emotions that i've never felt
Things i've never had to dEalt
With alone
Copyright © salma rahmat | Year Posted 2018
Twas the night before deer season
and all through the town
all the hunters were campin';
there was no one around.
The guys weren't all snuggled
and warm in their beds.
Instead they're in sleeping bags
dreaming of mounted buck heads.
They hope to get out early
and see a huge buck!
To hear something besides a squirrel,
I'll wish them good luck!
The schools are all out for
the whole of the season.
The mothers will go crazy
for that very reason.
It causes time to be mixed up
and all in a haze.
The game warden's wife
hasn't seen him for days.
So get all your gear out,
and decked out in camo.
Shine up the ole rifle,
and fill it with ammo.
Before I finish up,
I'll give you one tip.
Don't mess with that warden,
don't give him no lip!
It's almost time to head out,
and listen hard for a grunt.
Happy deer season to all;
have a safe and fun hunt!
Copyright © Jennifer Harding | Year Posted 2018
Then comes the call of the witch named Kabbath,
That signals the start of All Hollow's Black Sabbath.
And, from the dark crypts and the blackest of holes;
Come the night creatures, as the Midnight Bell Tolls
Come Goblins and ghoulies, black creatures all hassled.
Come the fiends of the night that haunt the High Castle.
To the cemetery fields where the undead lay waiting
For the black orgy to begin their unholy mating.
Witches, black sorcerers, and warlocks all
Dance to the wind at this black magic ball.
Their music the cry of ten million lost souls;
All hither they come as the Midnight Bell Tolls.
All gathered at last, at this darkest of hours.
To wait for the sign of Satan's great power.
That'll send them in search all over the world,
To capture the souls of ye boys and ye girls.
So, let this be a warning this Halloween night
And pay heed to thy parents, they know what is right.
Though you search for sweet treats, wherever you stroll.
Be safe in your beds, when the Midnight Bell Tolls.
Copyright © Robert Belenzon | Year Posted 2018
Sitting watching the world, weary, contemplating life cold and dreary,
Upon a rock within a mountain which I'd often tread upon before,
As I wallowed, spirit maddening, quietly there came a saddening,
Much like a hammer's hammering, hammering on my very core.
"It's another foe," I stammered, "hammering at my very core-
Nothing new, nothing more."
All these thoughts easily I render, like a drunkard on a bender,
And each thing that I remember stings a little more than the one before.
Foolishly I stood there bleating to the darkness still believing,
"All these feelings, they are fleeting, soon happiness will be restored,
Please let them all be fleeting, and happiness soon be restored.
I cannot handle too much more."
Fastened on my rock so dreary, in the cave my vision bleary,
Nestled within the familiar mountain, cold and damp, alone and sore.
I wiped my eyes seeing clearly, a ray of light, dim yet near me
Looking back I am nearly sure that the light was not there before.
I'm sure I would remember seeing a light were it there before.
Darkness was there, nothing more.
From deep within me came a feeling, aroused by light my eyes now seeing,
That despair was only fleeting, a shadow whose presence I did deplore.
A menacing malevolent master guiding me towards disaster,
Whose derisive mocking laughter will abate when I find that shining ore.
These dark demons will cease to plague me near that golden ball of ore.
Of one thing, this I'm sure.
Copyright © Kelsey Graves | Year Posted 2018
Some days I feel delightful
Others leave me feeling spiteful
One a few, I wish I had had a riffle
But they're just days at the end of the day
Meant to pass in different ways
How it does, only I have that say
So whatever a new day my bring
I try to remember to deeply breathe
And remind myself that how I will feel will be completely up to me
Copyright © Ralph Palmer | Year Posted 2018
23 years old,
Old enough to drink wine,
Old enough to drive a car,
Yet still, she sits at the kids' table,
She decides to get away,
Stay away from the politics and the war,
The cursing and the football,
All the horrible things that the “adults” talk about,
She sits in the bright yellow chair,
The ladybug table pressing up against her abdomen,
Grubby faces with bright eyes all around her,
She giggles and speaks of clouds and birds,
As she stares into their eyes,
They penetrate into her soul,
A bright light appears in her sight,
She is blinded,
A warmth travels down to an empty place in her chest,
This place fills up with this heat,
The place where the giggles and the laughter used to be,
The place where the nonsense known as love used to be,
The place where her heart once was,
Over the years she’s heard,
Heard of the horrible things in the world,
The wars, the deaths,
The loves and the divorce,
She closes her eyes,
When she opens them she’s 10 again,
She decides to stay,
So she spends the next 13 years at the kid's table.
Copyright © Flora Mack | Year Posted 2018
When The Silence Speaks a Little Too Loud
You gaze upon your blackened Moon
Wishing upon fading stars
~~~
He burnt down timeless bridges
For their times were done and through
Daily he'd reach out to obsolete frames of a body
One that used to be there, almost always
Could his echoes resonate into the lands beyond her
Echoes of cries of losers and wishers
Once, he could boast of all the Magic of Life
Now each Sunrise is a caption of a memory fading
He lit a fire, and played 'round it for its jolly
He ended up with a blackened heart and a charred dream
T'was as of Coldplay's loss of something you couldn't replace
Love gone to waste
"Come back to stand tall - to stand straight
Boast of the heroics of your letting go - and its redemption
But in the face of the mirror and in solitude
Pull off the mask and sink back into your sands of regrets"
"Stars came out again each night
And it was easy to pick out any
But it was only until He found a favorite
That one cloudy evening made a difference too many"
The Sun stayed on for too long
Now The Night is not coming anymore
The Night is gone
~~~
Chibéle
Copyright © Michael Appau | Year Posted 2018
we split over feelings about making up
I liked to rush back together
but she always wanted
some time to cry
I liked to rush back together
and forget about petty arguments
while the wick still smoked
but she always wanted
to let the embers cool
and take
some time to cry
before she decided to forgive
or forget
Copyright © Dr Charles Stone | Year Posted 2018