In such occasions where the heart yearns
for your heat how would I recover the
sorrow, the pillow no longer drips with tears
it leaks the yeast of sadness
It drills with grills that has chilly taste of fist
The face I’ve came to known is
disappearing slowly dispersing drifting in a
shallow whipped stream strangely it
strangles the anger of hate I have to carry
that I couldn’t fight for you enough
I couldn’t hold my pinky promise
I couldn’t keep you, let along see you again
I’d wish death upon my dreadful drearily but
this light of your skin reminds me the moon
once covered the sun and all went dark
As little hope the was the fear that each
earth dwellers had was enough to confess
their sins
Since your last text purged my day
I hope the memories that we made
embrace the emotional route it straightened
because it was real not forgery
I somehow wish to stop whipping
I hope I start shifting just to let in the breeze
Your eyelids would forever impair my ability
Ashleigh Ngoqo
My existence is flawed,
Bogged down by day, month, year old thoughts
I cannot stop,
My existence is flawed
Matching statistics taunt me,
But solemn truths surface
when guards pass drearily to sleep,
no more minds to keep,
Was all this worth it,
Oh the burning yearning to be free
of the wretched body
When I went insane I thought
I spoke to god,
And to them, distraught, I yelled
My existence is flawed,
Ferocious rains inside me fought,
Oh, again, to laugh away deaths embrace,
Resign myself to end of days,
As flesh and bone all surely rot,
And sirens sing the tunes of Nox,
I repeat, My existence is flawed
To this conjecture I contend,
All beauty will turn sometime,
But sunlight's rays shine
day by day,
And shadows dance
A sweet romance,
fend instead for next days brace,
Do not succumb to pale horse's race,
A small suggestion I propose,
Swap "my" with "why"
and truth arose,
Although those meander without cause,
Why, existence is flawed!
Grieved our word by breach of faintness.
Fraud pains and shivers us wordless
Had no clue, what had given us
God, join us in one love and grace.
Heaven is broad secret above.
Our parents' love will aid and move.
Ready to merge in love and sense
God, join us in one love and grace.
Strange and hue's world is mystery.
We talked quite than learned drearily.
We presume from what they told us.
God, join us in one love and grace.
our lives are intertwined through time.
we soar and grow close by yet mime.
Current love's bolted growth is false.
God, join us in one love and grace.
We thereafter wept our blunders.
Things were expressed that can't be changed.
Cleave the most of your one life chance
God, join us in one love and grace.
Said things we're inept to bear back.
Guided us onto the right track.
Prize memories righted themselves.
God, join us in one love and grace
The sun is blazing torridly,
And the wind piping drearily,
I'm about to lose my mind,
Because I'm running out of time.
Battling with the winnowed tastes of the ages,
One can see the dimness of my sealed eye and soul,
I'm no longer fluent as a rill, that wanders silver-footed down a hill,
Because I'm swept off the field of battle like a monsoon.
I'm almost kicking the bucket with Idle hopes, like empty shadows,
Maybe I'm going home for the last time,
Looking pale and grave as a sculptured nun,
But I wish to survive.
The breathless hours like phantoms should disappear,
These evanescent words shouldn't snap like a whip-lash,
Because they are painted sharp as pang,
Till death like sleep might steal on me.
Until then, I'm giving the world the best of my poeticalness,
That's all I owe.
the sloth yawns at time
inert, as listless minutes
turn wasted hours to years
work is left undone
avoided like a poison
the very thought, repugnant
the useless hand rules
in sluggish monotony
repeated “ad nauseam”
hear the weary sighs
a disinterest in ideas
thinking takes too much effort
how dull the moments
how easy to lay around
drearily, suffocating
and so the sloth goes
through blank, barren idleness
wallowing in stagnancy
Written on 10/23/2018
How often do I hide in thick layers
of parading masks-- afraid to reveal
the hardened ego which denies
a vanity ruled by a sordid past -
those matriarchal flaws, cracks from
violence, and lesions of snuffed anger
marked by wired illusions
over time's unhealed grievances.
I smile with resistance existing
through fragile acquaintances to escape
light's awakening that could lead
me out of life's pretenses.
So I hover drearily on bloody nights
and run to the woods in search of sages,
even wise thieves , who could give me
refuge from this soul going imaginary-
but my darkened mind lies, asking
"pride, how treacherous or precious are you?"
Russell Sivey Contest: In The Dark
Created 14.09.2017
VICKI ACQUAH·MONDAY, MAY 15, 2017
Blue skies are for lovers;
Not for mourners, and mothers.
I am searching the clouds.
Any sign would relieve my mind.
Needing the clouds, as weeds need the rain.
Slow pace, searching for a face;
Rain drizzle falls drearily, befitting my mood.
Searching those formatting gasses and vapors.
For an outline, or any clue.
” No news is not good news”
Her leaving was abrupt.
Is she one of the loved one’s hovering,
waiting for us to look up?
Looking up at the clouds, asking out loud
“Is that her face peering
out of the gray and pink cloud?
Could those be her wings?
fluttering in the wind?
I am deep throat muttering,
“Kai is that you”?
” No news is not good news”
Her leaving was abrupt.
Is she one of the loved one’s hovering,
waiting for us to look up?
So much talk of love is hocus-pocus,
mumbo jumbo gibberish with relish.
You miss it when love's lost,
but getting rid of it, when it goes off, is worse.
You can't take it out into the woods and run away.
You can't just switch it off without a raging fight or a good-bye shrug.
You have to go through all the tragic stuff played out drearily:
"I'm sorry to say I've had enough"
"I simply don't love you anymore, we've grown apart"
"I've met someone else, much better for me than you ever were"
"I'm tired and frankly sick of you"
Such stuff is far more than losing love, it is messy active rebellion and rejection.
Out of love is sad, when you were so much in love.
But you can find love again if you haven't already done so.
And you can be in love, more than once, at the same time,
so losing a love or two can be a good thing.
A love lost can be good riddance.
It was something
that brought a smile
to my face.
It had unusual underpinnings
with desirable overtones,
a pleasurable experience
as I wandered aimlessly
through concoctions Neanderthal
perpetuations ministered aloft
in dreams drearily
bound by time, space
glittery amidst synchronizing
to a land of make-believe
where all desires
could be fulfilled
it tantalized senses
drifting through subconscious
perplexity illuminating
dismal repercussions stifled
by cold truths.
You never know, you see
When the next time will be.
One moment, you may be happy.
As happy as can be
The next, deep sadness and depression strike suddenly.
Suffocating pressure, like drowning in the depths of the sea
You feel shame as you wonder, "what's wrong with me?"
Emotion, so heavy on your chest that you struggle to breathe
It's no wonder that you have no energy
Time seems to slow, the seconds go by drearily
Shame fills you, as you remember how strong you used to be
Especially when just saying hi feels like a small victory
After what feels like an eternity
The feeling leaves, almost bitterly
And despite the feeling leaving me
I still remember fearfully
That suffocating agony
There are others like me
How others don't see it in us, to us seems a mystery
Yet I know they'd say with me
"You never know, you see
When the next time will be."
I am still on the field
In search of pink roses for you.
I find you a beautiful rose but then
The shades of night have fallen,
Nyx has spread her garment upon us
The night is cold and drearily lonely
You have not come seeking for me
I tried to find my way home
But I cannot find my way to you.
I have been roaming, roaming the wilds.
When at last Aurora appears
I have lost my way, my way home
In the labyrinthine terrain
Of the deep forest growths.
I discovered a plane of roses
Roses of all forms and hues, for you
But I cannot find my way home
I shall live here in love with the roses
And explore them, without you
And you shall live there with your Love
Without the roses, my bonnie Liza!
The evening dons a peaceful shroud
As windows teeter in the breeze.
Here, only lone sighs are allowed
Along the road, an endless wheeze.
While toilers saunter homeward bound
Reflecting hours quite drearily,
With tic- tac rhythm on the ground
Like shuffles of a weary tree.
Dim lanterns cut through brightened shade
With moonlight glowing starlit white,
Till liquid eyes are inter-laid
For even in reminisce is light.
Let's Get Technical Contest, Andrea Dietrich
19 July 2014
Jewel encrusted shade of night is crowned with a crescent moon
Fools entrusted with the jaded light depart the earth all too soon
The horizon abides the passing of time giving the stars a place to hide
Setting the stage, paving the way for the new ones scheduled to arrive
Acquiring minds stare at the sky hoping, dreaming, and wondering why
But, anything of worth deserves the respect of being truly observed
The jewel encrusted shade of night pulls the wool from our tired eyes
Shining down the knowledge of the light a billion years comes into site
Setting the stage upon mind, paving the way for all of mankind
Acquiring minds decipher the code paving the road for others to find
Jewel encrusted shade of night drearily makes its way across the sky
Fools entrusted by the jaded light, know too well that it never dies
But fails to realize that nothing can stop the unstoppable passing of time
And the horizon will require the blazing red sun to crawl over its back
Rising above, as it usually does rinsing the sky, of any traces of black
Sad as it is to say good bye we sit and watch the death of a night
she's lost most of her hair and lays still in her bed
an oxygen tank is her constant companion
somehow she summons a smile midst dreariness and dread
and her pain is as deep as any known canyon
her's is a matter of gravity, grave in nature and ways
it's a sorrowful situation as the light grows dim in her eyes
she has drearily dizzy nights and un-busy days
yet she spouts words of wisdom from a mind so wise
her arms are but bones, her legs akin to a stick
her body is rotting both outside and in
how sad it is to view beauty so perilously sick
and her condition proves that even her god can sin
personally i can't visit her because too large is my heart
i can't face the signs that she headed too soon for Heaven
age seems her body yet she accepts that soon she will depart
and saddest of all is that she's only eleven
to Debbie- who cancer is cancelling a most beautiful little girl
(c) 2012 ...PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
The leafless, arthritic branches
of the sycamore and maple
trees stretched their grotesque, naked forms
now stripped by the blasts of winter;
splaying drearily overhead
casting cold, rickety shadows
over recently fallen snow.
A prevailing wind rushes through
the trees and a choir of creaks
begin their rasping rhapsody.
A momentary lull begins
and the wooded composition
in a Larghissimo tempo
ends on a melancholy note.
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