stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains,
delicate pure white flakes danced;
swirling, twirling, rhythmically.
she stood, nose pressed tightly
against the window pane; gazing in awe
at the magic the snowflakes created;
as tears spill from her emerald green eyes.
the cabin is warm, radiating a comforting glow
a fresh pine scent lightly sweetens the air;
she fights the memories, as she begins to shake.
fingers entwined, she tries desperately to hang on
be present in the moment;
"stop, stop, stop" she says, stomping her feet;
she falls to her knees; quivering.
she holds tightly her arms and begins to rock,
feeling his presence in his favourite black sweater;
she cannot bring herself to take off.
giggling sounds permeate her thoughts
cocooned in his aura, his essence, his scent;
she feels his lips kiss the nape of her neck,
his strong hands caressing her hair.
she rocks and rocks, time ceases to stop,
as she falls deep into a rich
moulton pool; his smouldering brown eyes.
her lips part; barely into a smile at
his joy when he surprised her with the cabin;
their oasis away from home.
she wipes away a tear, beams from within
as she recalls the snowball fight, he lost, she won.
he scooped her up, carried her with glee,
over the thresh hold of their cabin;
their oasis; their heart's retreat.
a decadent white rug bought just for her
lay invitingly in front of the fire,
fiery orange embers crackled and glowed.
he gently laid her down; "my beauty" he said.
they drank champagne, drunk in each other,
wrapped up in his care, she felt peace.
as they lay basking in winter's afterglow,
he whispered "this is my time, i must go".
startled, she sat up, staring deep in his soul,
as snowflakes twirled and danced,
fresh pine lightly sweetened the air;
he breathed one final breath; then he let go.
her screams were not audible, her body convulsed
as she lay on his chest; her heart; her home.
she cursed the night and winter's afterglow
sobbing "not him, not him, please take me too".
she fights to bring herself back
to the here and the now,
as embers slowly dim, she wobbily stands
clutching tenderly his urn, she must set him free.
the stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains
she opens the window, where dreams breathed of life;
with tears cascading
she releases her love; her life;
to become one
with the magic of;
Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006
A fleeting still small voice tries to warn me
A sudden overwhelming desire to run
The tell tale taste of metallic flakes
Means my nightmare has begun
Everything around takes on a ghostly pallor
A landscape of anguish and corrosion
A moment of silence before the violence
The flash of light, the brilliant explosion
The sound of the Sun fills my ears
Fear, my throat, though none escapes me
And paralyzed I clench my eyes
As my tormentor prepares to rape me
And it's endeavor is absolute
Consumption is its ultimate goal
It exists to chase me so it can erase me
Whilst feasting on my soul
And then that familiar salty smell
The sudden rush of warmth so stings
Engaging me relentlessly
In vile unspeakable things
Over and over and over again
My limbs stretched and wrought
As it's teeth tear my bones bare
It's mind defiles my thoughts
And still wounds beget wounds beget wounds
As in the mouth of madness I suffer
And with every injury he just seems to be
Rougher and rougher and rougher
Then just as suddenly as it began it ceases
And for a moment I am clearer
And then the true horror of it all
Is revealed in a darkly lit mirror
There in front of me stands my destroyer
Face flush with it's fill of my pain
And I find that it's eyes and mine
My God, they’re one in the same
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2011
I look to the Moon, hanging aloft
Among the clouds so milky soft.
How must it feel, so high above?
So chilled and bleak and void of love.
Collapsed and sunken are his eyes,
Dark and deep as the onyx skies.
As the Moon shies from the sun,
I share no love with anyone.
The Moon is alone, without affection.
In its grim face is my reflection.
Inside my heart, the longing grows,
And rots my soul, a sickly rose.
While I look beyond this cage,
I clench my fists; they shake with rage.
I desperately stare above,
Wishing to fly, free as a dove;
For release from the troubled heart I claim,
To be finally rid of the madness and shame.
Although reprieve is found in song,
To no one does my soul belong.
In music, may the pleas be spoken,
But all in vain; the heart is broken.
The Sphere returns, begins to sigh.
We are not so different, You and I.
So twisted and fractured is the White Stone.
We both have no one; We are both all alone.
Copyright © Mike Ruff | Year Posted 2006
The Willow did not always weep,
in summer sun and breeze.
But sorrow once did quickly creep,
amongst the bark and leaves.
For long ago a maiden fair,
would bask beneath the tree.
Each day as she had rested there,
the tree would always see.
The beauty of her freckled face,
the softness of her skin.
The sweetness of her simple grace,
her love it hoped to win.
Reaching out to take the chance,
in all its strength with care.
Dropping low the limb and branch,
to shade the maiden fair.
To hide her from all pain and strife,
to cradle her within.
To help her through her gentle life,
from now until the end.
But soon she cease to come and lay,
beneath the now bowed limb.
Her heart it seems had flown away,
as hope now starts to dim.
So lonely was the branching Willow,
that in sorrow it would stay.
Forever bent and bowed down low,
until this present day.
By Tom Clark, Copyright 2008
Copyright © Tom Clark | Year Posted 2008
for your arm wrapped around
my clavicle. I thought
I would loose my breath.
for the cusp of our hip bones
struggling to pull the drunken color
from our orange cheeks.
and our sweat, our sweat, our sweat
in the drenched summer air.
Our pants futile afterthoughts
Left crumpled on the floor
It is here I asked for your respect
And you filled me with it.
for the musk smell of our blanket den. I would watch the way dawn light
speckled your shoulders, pale, white-blue
I would trace the ink
of your skin, fingertip hovering a half inch
from your bone.
for how my name would hesitate
on your breath in brief puffs
like dandelion seeds blown from
My wistful lips when I was
waiting for them to bring back my wish.
for my sleeveless dress, as we strolled from
your father’s funeral.
It was the only time I watched you cry.
There were little holes in the cement sidewalk.
They filled with rain, oil
And your tears.
I watched your face change through
their watery colored reflections.
for the way your skin repels from my
Touch, quivers as though my finger-
print were a red hot poker.
You haven’t allowed me to touch you
In a year.
for the color of her font, as she responds to you. It is an eager
Color. She responds with all the passion of an Eskimo kiss.
You left her waitng..always.
I have been special to you,
she replies to your
like a maid
Who’s felt the hot moist
whisper of something naughty
tickle against her ear lobe.
for the way your eyes punch accusations
sharper then your razor tongue.
blue crackled lightening,
like an angry alley cat.
My words cannot reach you here.
You will leave.
We will divide our booty
Words that once held my name like a piece
Of carefully folded origami
now hiss cold
devoid like the plaster of our empty room.
for the morning
now knocking on my window.
I am livid in my withdrawal, tossing and turning
I can find no comfort
the tangle of these vacant sheets.
Copyright © Jennifer Brooks | Year Posted 2006
The girl is an ultra-modern scholar,
Belongs with an upper-middle class family.
Looking very nice, smart, gets angry suddenly.
She reads M.A in English at Presidency University.
She is assimilating to the ideas of Shakespeare,
Shelley, Keats, Neruda, Byron...
Fluently speaks English, loves cricket.
Shoulders are shaken by expression.
She cries alone, laughs with everyone....
The girl is very good.
The boy is a post-modern educated son of a lower-middle class family.
He studies M.A in Bengali at Calcutta University.
He is assimilating to the routes of Vaishnab literature,
Ideas of Bharatchandra, Rabindranath Tagore, Nazrul, Jibanananda...
Writes poems, sings song, loves football.
He walks on the high-street and observes people.
He laughs alone, listens to everyone...
The boy is very good.
They are attracted by the opposite personality!
The girl wants that her lover will be a modern man.
The boy thinks that his lover will become as the mind of his.
They are changing silently
Love goes to another address...
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
Copyright © Sandip Goswami | Year Posted 2014
Like an archaic humanoid dinosaur
you plunder through life taking no prisoners,
with your philosophical knuckles dragging on the ground.
You are a dying breed born of privilege and tenacious greed,
tendering little in life other than your selfish need.
What is it you seek in life other than your very personal comfort?
You never give a sideways glance to anyone with no chance of adding to your
circumstance; narrow minded cruelty subsidies the shutdown of any
tenderness, allowing emotional banalities to supersede integrity.
Your karmic debt is too cancerous to be free -
a lover of women among inept men,
but piteous fodder for contempt among strong women.
Neanderthal, you tossed love off the tongue like spit flung and stung my cheek with
runny dung....in disgust I turn away at your insipid attempt at manhood.
So many conquests, so little time.
The pittance you gave is but a trail of unwitting shame,
littered like Gretel's bread crumbs into a wilderness of pain...
How sad you thought such a pittance could buy my soul.
I am no longer a member of your colonial servitude,
and you are an inept fossil long past its prime.
From this moment, Narcissistic Neanderthal,
I am free.
Copyright © Anna Lee Stedman | Year Posted 2012
Ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passions now abide
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now, alone bereft.
Grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left:
beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide;
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now alone, bereft.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside.
Beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide,
we conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief.
We conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passion now abides,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief,
ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
Sad Heart, now thou art wither’d from the Sun,
What man, or god, will near thee run?
Wrought in twist like branches in Tempests' gasp,
What Comfort, or Gauze, shall be near to grasp?
True ones begotten are the ones now Rotten
And the ones now Rotten will never be forgotten
They are merely sad remains of assiduous Tears
That have been meddl’d with and tatter’d Raw throughout the years
And thou, cruel Mind, that sat’st still thru toiling trail of Night;
Must dream your broken Dreams; thou’rt a sanely flight!
Can thou extinguish passions of Fire, Disease, or Rain?
—tho thy distinguish’d influence trains to abstain
Thy Remnants brought to debris in thy Empty street,
Devour’d by Vultures, their bestow’d beaks entreat
Merely are they cleaning an inexhaustible Mess
Alas! Leaving thy rudiments of Identity to redress....
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012
When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...
I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky
The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn
I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe
The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul
Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through
Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost
I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art
As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow
Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place
The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost
Day was Life,Night is Death
And the latter has given counsel on my final steps
Copyright © Winter Wallace | Year Posted 2009
Through somber steps each climb is made;
The fruitless efforts fail.
Thus, love unshared and work unpaid
Disturbs the nightingale.
In song it copes
With fears and hopes;
From limbs it hung,
All feelings sung.
Warm waters crawl beneath its wings
On lonely twilight trips.
Yet, cold of nighttime softly stings
The feet with which he grips.
So many are the shamed
Whose sorry sights were aimed
To win the hopeless fight;
The one unanswered plight.
Where care once came
Comes only shame;
Now only rhyme
Recalls the time
When lovers held each other tight
On nights of endless laughter.
The nightingale would take its flight,
Rejoicing ever after.
But friends refuse each others hands,
The sign of cherished life.
On edge of death his heart now stands.
Serrated is the knife.
Now gone away again to mourn
The winged creature flies,
Until the warmth of love reborn
Revives the sunken eyes--
Those bitter sockets filled with tears
Reflect the speckled moon.
Escape from tortured life appears--
He ends the final tune.
Copyright © Mike Ruff | Year Posted 2009
Soberly, I raise my head
to beg you for
one thin slice of bread
since on the table
a dirty dish holds the residue
of someone else’s wish
And there’s nothing left
nothing left for me
No there’s nothing left
nothing left for me
Hours later, you lie there still
watching more headlights
glide above the window sill
'cause though your mind
fights back desperately
each new passing car
stirs the same old memory
So there’s nothing left
nothing left for me
No there’s nothing left
nothing left for me
Copyright © Ryan Lucas | Year Posted 2017
It occurred to me
I think more and more like a poet
Thoughts jumbled with imagery
Off in my own colourful world
Small wonder there’s a disconnect
With dusty musty pencil pushers
People whose minds have shrivelled up
Have trouble seeing art and beauty for what they are
Gifts from above
Can’t relate to people
Bent on upward and forward
People with hardened hearts
Their erected walls with tiny doors
Tightly locked with guarded keys
They look down from lofty towers
Baffled and indignant
Meaningless people like you and me
Satisfied with so little
Looking at the world
Through poet lenses
Seeing that subtle dimension
That’s invisible to most
Keeping the pathway to the heart open
The channel clear
Seeing that life’s real treasures
Are offered only
To the receptive soul
Submitted on February 9, 2018 for contest LOSS OF AN INNOCENT MIND sponsored by KAI MICHAEL NEWMANN
Copyright © Line Gauthier | Year Posted 2018
sometimes i talk to myself,
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all.
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister,
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it.
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room,
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy,
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
is daddy raping her?
is she doing drugs?
is anyone beating her?
did anyone molest her?
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse.
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat,
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why?
because daddy yelled
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...
Copyright © cassie hellberg | Year Posted 2013
A moment in time..
I saw you across the room the other day,
Much like another time when you held my gaze,
Pulling me in with one passing glance
Our longing eyes betraying thoughts, that this might be another chance
This is crazy I thought, we both surmised and laughed.
Looking away, looking back again, can anyone else see what’s going on?
This moment of desire shared between you and me,
Embracing the what ifs and what would be?
Two strangers living separate lives, intertwining paths in space and time
Connecting in ways we could not explain
The thought of one touch occupying all senses
Haunted by the what could have been
If I would have been, the one to say I do
We recently shared a moment in awkward conversation
Trying to be informal and coy, But what we really wanted was to
Wrestle with the deep mysteries of each other.
The woman in you celebrating the man in me
The man in me praising the woman in you, the beauty of you
With your long hair and misty eyes, just something about the way
You look at me, makes my body leap inside, and weep at the same time.
Where were you from? What was your name?
The love from my youth is one and the same,
Has it been that long? Forbidden romance lost in memory
Something of a glimpse captured in remembrance,
Yes! You found me in my misery long ago
Wanting to love me out of a misguided childhood,
Only to be met with at the time, a beautiful mess
We shared intimate conversation, falling for one another
As words fell from our lips, an exchange of hopes and dreams
We fulfilled a need in one another, drying tears from each other’s eyes
For a season,
But momentum drove us on separate paths, on distant shores
I watched you fade away, like a fog across the bay.
Do I have regrets and will I have regrets?
Sure I do, and yes I will,
I didn’t have the words to tell you then, what pride refused to say,
That you meant more to me than handholds on a treacherous mountain,
That your tenderness broke through layers of bitterness left untouched,
And that now, like before you shake the foundations of my very being,
Only you have been able to reach me there.
Shall we embrace this forbidden love? Build a future out of broken lives?
You have yours and I have mine, what will become of us if we pursue?
Sometimes true love is never meant to be shared, if it decimates
The only thing you know to be true, what is real and what is now
And the impact a dream can have.
So when I see you now, at least for the moment I can believe and know
Your okay and that life has treated you well and that you’re happy,
We can find peace in our circumstances, the way we found each other again.
And smile remembering that once we shared a moment in time..
Copyright © Angel fire | Year Posted 2013
This is my first Petrarchan sonnet...
Grey days of loss and loneliness are here
Sad nights as long as shadows in the deep
No joy, no hope, no gentleness, no sleep
No ray of light predicted to appear
Just disappointment, emptiness and fear
And sacred dreams discarded in a heap
By some abyss of faith too wide to leap
In ruins lies the love we held so dear
Wise folk will say there will be love again
That suns come up, and suns go down, and yet
All I perceive is darkness, drear and grim
All I can feel is searing hurt and pain
My heart, my fingers, too burnt to forget
All blistered, from the flame I hold for him
Copyright © Gail Foster | Year Posted 2016
The link is in the notes section, there you will also find music to accompany the poem!
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
I was born a woman body full of curves an soft blush breasts. One day I awoke wanting to tell someone wanting to confess. I like women the ones of my own sex. I love the way they look and move. I love the feel and the smell of a woman's body. I've met a young woman and this i believe is real. She means the world to me,yet I was put on earth to give my heart and my body to a man. Men have hurt me and let me down to no end. I always knew I was differnt from my freinds afraid to let them know it turned me on to look at them. So I tried to hide behind what society wanted me to be a woman in every way. Until I found love and could no longer deny what I felt. I made love to her the way no man could. she loved the way I touched, held, and caressed her. made her feel things no other could. She asked me when it was done, What sex am I? I told her a woman like you , I just know how you want to feel, she smiled and kissed me again. God forgive me I know it's a sin. I'm in love with a woman what am I to do? God forgive my sins. I'm in love with a woman and it may mean hell.
Copyright © Carolyn Dye | Year Posted 2011
Alone in loneliness
Amid forever nights
And these four walls
In faint, whisper soft your name
I beg out loud to the nothingness that remains
"Please not another nightmare, no more storms"
But, answers are merely glimpses of light
Filtering through the pane
Cast empty shadows on the wall
Of places where you used to be
Eyes wide open
Now asleep, afraid I am to fall
Trapped within this never ending dream
I cling to all the memories that I have
Spinning me closer to where you were, in parallel on the edge
The thoughts, like imaginary rubble, comes tumbling passed
A fire for you still burning inside
Why can’t I let go of the tragedies last
And silence your unrescued suicidal screams
Or is it only the rain falling faster as it taps harder, and harder upon the glass
Or is it of your wandering spirit
Haunting with its vindications
Of "why’s" I can never seem to grasp
All this amidst lost stares into black windows
Where gutters overrunning, burdened by the strains
And I swear I see your reflection
Among the flashes, tracing out illuminations about your face
And for the first time
You are noticeably absent of all the worldly pains
And your lips releasing out a comfort that for so long I've been seeking
As I hear the words echo within my stormy heart "That where you are everything is okay"
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2011
He is above us in the clouds
run through the fields and speak of thee
He will grow roses
I will be the stem of the roses
for I shall never leave your soil
You will be the tree I grow beneath
and he will be our rain.
Copyright © Andrea M Christian | Year Posted 2010
Broken Butterfly Wings
Empty playground swings
tear filled, wide-eyed
a choking stolen
silence fills my being
as my love walks away
I see everything wrong
with the world
Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010
Imagine lakes of dreams
Blood contained streams
Imagine oceans that behold undiscovered beings
Imagine human life depended off of cheers and games
Man design’s umbrellas
And eventually would play a part in acid rain
Imagine not wanting to smell another rose
Or touch another soul
Because of despair and shame
Imagine in the mist of your demise
You have the passion to rejoice and sing
Imagine driving pass shattered glass
The interior is soaked with blood stains
Your mind can't comprehend the fact
that it's a dead family in the next lane
Imagine dreaming for freedom
As a result by your neck you hang
Imagine for the sake of progress
You whip a man on his back and call him a slave.
Rage, Pain, Fortune, and fame
You don't have to imagine this
Because that's what life brings.
Copyright © Andre Sanders | Year Posted 2012
I do not know?
Once again i am locked in the darkness of the night
The light of your love has vanished so suddenly
Leaving me alone in absolute solitude
In a state of lonliness, a state of depression
Why did you tell me you loved me, even though it wasn't true
You took me on a ride, and said we were through
I loved you before, and i love you still.
But, you don't feel the same way i do, and this isn't real.
How can you love someone, and you don't love yourself?
How can you love someone, and not trust them at all?
I gave you my heart, my soul, my love
But, apparently that wasn't enough to have you trust me.
I knew this was coming, the "us" would be no more.
Then why do i feel this way, like i lost a love?
So now i must say Farewell, for the "us" will never be again.
But remember i love you, and my heart shall always be yours.
Copyright © Tabitha Moyer | Year Posted 2005
have you ever felt like
the flashing red light on the roof,
lonely as ever
visible at night, useless by day?
in sync with its partner next door
for a quick kiss over a few flashes only
then arguing again and again
night in, night out.
have you ever felt like
the flashing red light on the roof,
not signaling a warning to keep away
but sending a call for compassion?
using the dark pauses in between
to yell the same name
over and over and over
into the emptiness of each night.
have you ever felt like
the flashing red light on the roof,
being your silent cry
only heard by your eternal love?
Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016
"When the rose dies it falls open, spreading perfume. You will become a window for every house. You will be a rose garden in every field."~Rumi
There were no secrets between us...
Oh! Beauty's unveiled saline rush!
Deception is now done.
Every man knows your scoring gush...
Fate! Has now claimed my only blush!
A Harlot's life begun.
~by deborah burch©
Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2012
were my depraved,
envisioned in the moonlight -
wearing your cheap,
red lipstick - and
desperate to ravish me.
if you did not love me
the succulent fruit upon
lip and breast would diminish here and now.
i said, what man is without his mistress,
and you smiled, exposing those crooked teeth.
i love you,
much more than i loved you then.
you seem to have adopted the image of an ill bird,
and in my dreams misery has approached you,
condemned you to love a furious man.
i am sorry i could not endure with you,
the tempestuous love for beauty.
i did not wish to search for you,
because i feared that you might be more appealing
with those poignant bruises upon your face,
declaring your mistake.
i remember, in the morning,
your breath was like a toxic thunder,
as you prepared your quivering lips to kiss me,
i did not know i loved you then,
but i love you now.
and when daylight breaks through the aperture of the night, my lovely sin,
i will perish, because even now i love your transparent shadow.
the earth, too, is harsh to me
on burning sunlit mornings - and
i love you today,
much more than i loved you then.
and only on this day i have been told by the wind
that you are alive and well,
but not happy.
Copyright © Lebedyenko Berborodov | Year Posted 2012
America, why did you stray from the old way.
A constitution put forth, the foundation of our land,
barely recognizable what was originally Jefferson's hand.
Tarnished and smudged by misinterpretation,
overindulgence and greed, to satisfy political,
judicial, and journalistic need.
Once majority rule, now bordering on ridicule,
the law of the land, ever changing, meeting demands,
of whoever takes a stand.
America, why did you stray, parents unable to discipline,
fear children undisciplined now rule, school in chaos,
students unruly, guaranteed to pass, unprepared for their future,
parents unsure, wish for the past, hope the next generation,
won't be like the last.
America, why did you stray, streets used to be a place to play,
neighbors knew one another, socialized every day,
doors left unlocked, nothing to fear, families stayed close,
helped one another, took care of mother.
Now drugs rule the day, hate and crime more common than play,
multiple locks symbolic of today, rarely talk to a stranger,
living in fear; life no longer precious, taken away,
day after day, the bloody count rises, a country in crisis,
victims pay, guilty appeal, courts give them the best deal.
Nobody protests for victims rights, put a murderer to death,
they scream all night.
America, why did you stray, hatred and bigotry alive
and well today, nationalities split, long for the old way,
when an American, was just an American, now hyphenation,
the accepted way.
America, why did you stray, once an industrial giant
you gave it away, too high a standard for industry to pay,
moved out of country, the new American way, unemployment,
poverty, homelessness rapidly increasing, ruined lives,
while billions are spent on so called allies.
America, why did you stray, what's written today,
barely address the wrongs building every day,
religion is accepted, God is not,
country divided, politically split,
presidential bashing provides journalistic wit,
hatred and bigotry, live for it.
America why did you stray, new chapters every day,
really a damn shame.
Copyright © Mac McGovern | Year Posted 2010
Smokeless inhales hurt.
I cough tar on my shirt.
As my black lungs breathe,
Shrilling exhales wheeze.
The nicotine cracks
Copyright © Hyle Chu | Year Posted 2009
The steady pull
a tease on
When I can sleep,
I take what dreams
In these dreams,
my 'noxide comes
to ward me.
Her smoke is an invitation.
the con science
of my imagination.
I give in
and reality spins.
Between the sleeps,
I lie in sanity.
Did I give into
did I'd err?
smoke in the air?
Copyright © Hyle Chu | Year Posted 2009
my heart breathes its last breath
Embraces its own death
Ready to be reborn
and made anew
Can’t live a lie
Refuse to “do”
and I’ll DIE....
Focus now on why I’ll live
And never touch the sky.
I have to forget you
I have to reject you
But I will never love anyone
like I loved you.....
I heard you whisper
and you never knew it
I wiped the tears from your eyes
But you couldn’t feel it
You’re lost and you’ll never find you
And neither will I
And I’m so sorry--
but I’m NOT.
I'll attempt to reset
Try to forget
But you know, I never will.
Be my dirty little secret
My very worst-kept secret
Sweet, smooth, beautiful poison
My infernal and endless attraction
towards complete and utter self-destruction
I fell in love with the devil
And it will take one heck of an angel
To save me from the likes of you....
my dream never to come true
Oh, I’ll never forget the times
we never shared
I’ll never forget
how you were never there
Always me, the stars, and tears
And I ask you,
what kind of life is THAT?
I have to face the facts
I don’t know what happens now
but it happens without you.
The stains will always be there
the scars will never fade
But the memory of you----
it HAS to.
I could carry the torch forever
But it would only consume me
I can’t cry another tear for you
Or I’ll dry up completely
It doesn’t affect you
and you never deserved me
You’ll go on with your life, too
All, all alone
Because you’ll only ever be in love
Copyright © SLS It Is Rife With Ambiguity | Year Posted 2011