Long Blend in Poems
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I try to keep my brain alert
By writing poetry.
I am still trying to think,
But my mind is deserting me.
My mind is in a muddle,
As is my pitiful brain
It is a constant struggle
Am I going insane?
Or have I already gone
And I don't know it yet.
Will my mind recover?
Or is this as good as it gets?
I am becoming invisible,
Like a plain blank wall
I blend in with the surrounding
And cannot be seen at all.
I have become a spectator.
Not an innovator of life
I must keep my mouth shut,
Because my words may cause strife.
Plain and simple words
It is my language of choice.
Individual thoughts
That gives me a voice.
To share opinions,
And different points of view.
Every day teaches each other,
And learning too.
I try to keep my brain alert,
By writing poetry
I am still trying to think
But my mind is deserting me.
Maybe I have a writing cramp,
I am sure I do not know
Whatever you like to call it
I wish it would hurry up and Go!
I have always liked the night
If there is a way, I would blend in
There always is something to hide from light
Always a something more then to seem
I would run away but I stayed
I stayed but didn't know why I couldn't run away
Like a past never remembering what I said
To a future considering what is to say...
Have I stayed too long?
Am I too comfortable to feel uncomfortably well?
I have settled well but my mind do not belong
Simply served was sinful heaven from blissful hell
I always know who I am... never who I was
I can never believe who I ever once was whence before
Whatever the rightful, wrongful moment for the cause
The rightful, wrongful moment were lived I hoped as I saw
Is there something you'll have hide from light?
Isn't there always something than to seem?
Tell me... do you like the night?
If there is a way... will you want to blend in?
A dear friend asked me the other day
"Which is the city you call your own?"
I wanted to give a precise answer
But couldn't find out which one
Is it the city where I was born
That still echoes my murmurs
In the whispers of rosy mornings
And spreads my fragrance with the wind
Or is it the city where I went to school
That still preserves my frayed memories
Of broken pencils and faded pages
And the benches where I played along
Is it the city where I had lost myself
That still glorifies my mistakes explored
In all those struggles that it has kept
Hidden between dried petals of my diaries
Or is it the city where I found glory
That still reminds me of beautiful days
Shared smiles with my parents
And moved forward to find my road
Perhaps it is the city where I hadn't lived
It still carries my experiences with strangers
Of a weekend spent to find myself
In the history of a city that wasn't mine
I don't know which one it is
For I belong to every city I have visited
Left a part of me there to blend in the air
Picked another part and dissolved it in me
With the molecules and moments
That create themselves for me
I look back to every frame that was me
And let it unfurl a history of mine
I am not sure if there exists a city
That we humans can call our own
Or why else would we feel we belong there
When we procreate our lives in those cities
May 17, 2020
BRIAN'S CHOICE H,any form,any theme
Winner: Honorable Mention
Warriors become philosophical black
Assassins walk on water in fabric magic
Boots move quicker than the wind
Clearly invisible through vampire mirrors
Void of color, empty of human images
The night draws shapes on Ninja Lake
Reflects back vivid in shards of ice
Protecting natures shadowy body
Secrets blend in with Winter
Light objects gentle to the touch
Become solid as spy machines
Scramble into action
Move swiftly to the shore for battle
To attack the Samurai shielded in sleep
Dressed in snow, in honor, in mounds of white
Heavy swords rest, glistening by their side
Multicolored by moonlight, stranded in the sky
Lightning rods wait to strike at midnight
Only snores fill the silence between thin distances
A slice of life ready to be snuffed out at any time
Dragon stars spin like tiny metallic helicopter discs
Missed by inches through the bamboo covered mile
Some projectiles follow meadow birds in error
Exchange addresses that never return to them
Turn skyward with the wind in twisting flight
On the wing to chase birds only trying to escape
Before the lake sinks to new levels of depravity
Ninja and Samurai make mistakes then smile
Slice right through their most noble intentions
To serve God and country to the biter end
As blades pass right through invisible men
I want to write a poem about starting the weekend right
Lol
Okay first of all you got to sleep in
That is a must
You would not feel like
you have a weekend if
you don’t at least sleep in
That is to tell your body to kick it
And let it fly to the wind
Second you got to shop
For the men I feel sorry for you
Because you don’t know
what you are missing
Well you can’t miss
something you don’t know
So that is okay
Third you got to
spend time outside
Do you feel like
You are going to get a sunburn?
Well it’s good for you
It’s your body’s
natural response to stressors
That will make you stronger
And look better
You want to get
those pale skins exposed
So you can blend in, haha
Fourth you got to do your errands
Got to do it my friend
It’s piling up on you
Waiting for the weekend
for you to attack it
If you don’t believe me
Those errands’ urgency will
come back and bite you
in a form of you
running out of
clothes to wear
Or fridge runs out of
your midnight snack
Oh yeah get your hair done, will ya?
And while you are at it, do something fun
Ahh you’ve been forgetting that part, haven’t you?
Let’s see now
What do you consider fun?
What I think is fun
maybe totally different than yours
So I’ll let you decide
But have fun while
You are doing all this
Actually have fun all year
Don’t wait till
the weekend to do it
You may not have
enough time
So get my drift
Okay start
You can go now
It’s officially Saturday
So yeyyy weekend time
Party time
Roll it baby!
An Unknown Privilege
To visit the city had been a dream of mine, one that my parents had been annoying about.
They wanted to come with me but I ignored them, I just wanted to blend in with the crowd.
Leaving the hotel I paid to ride one of the bikes, hoping to find adventure in this city of dreams.
But every corner I turned seemed to be darker, and more run down and echoed with screams.
I found the streets I long desired to travel, were filled with the hurt and harassed,
It seemed everytime i blink, another one appears, more ill than the last.
They turn to me for money to spare ,with those poor pleading eyes.
And the sight of used needles and the people lying motionless nearby, left me beginning to cry.
I tried to leave quickly, but had to stop while I looked at their children, they were so small.
Their parents had long given up on them, leaving those kids with nothing to do but bawl.
I hopped back on the bike, hoping to find someplace to relax,
But My mind can focus only on the men, with their stained smelly slacks.
I thought about all the times I had gotten mad at my parents for not spoiling me.
But now I realize that they gave me the greatest gift of all, their unwavering love that could fill plenty.
I felt odd coming back home to my lush life, and my parents could see my pain.
Instead of crying I thanked them, for never putting me through that life just for their vain.
A dark void, my soul completely destroyed
Everything wrong hit me, like an asteroid
The wrongdoings I’ve done, the pain I've faced
The tears I’ve shed, and the sick aftertaste
I’m often misunderstood, called “Emo” and “sad”
But they don’t see my thoughts, and they should be glad
There’s more to see, but it’s a lot for me
Everyone around me is strong, like a tree
But I am only a wilted flower,
As everyone looks down, often towers
I weep in silence, my hopes and dreams crushed
And so I often feel my voice is hushed
I seem to blend in with the rest of the tree’s
And so I collapse, and I’m finally free.
I’m a very early riser - the first settler’s
alarm clock you might say-
If you haven’t heard my native name
Wiradjuri guuguubarr- That’s OK
you would know me as a Kookaburra.
You’ll often hear me laughing with my kinsfolk
from treetops to greet the morning
Then at day’s end we bid it a fond goodbye-
with a jovial, raucous chorus.
You could mistake it for human laughter
but it isn’t imitation- we’ve been laughing this way
since the beginning of creation.
I have a diet that will often make people shudder.
I can eat a 3 foot snake and then go looking for another.
I stun it first by dropping it — then whack it on a tree
And then, believe me — I swallow it — carefully.
I blend in well with the bushland
bark brown and dappled shades
You can’t see me in the gumtrees—that is
until my laughter gives me away.
Tracking The Extraterrestrials Amongst Us
?
In shadows cast by stars above,
A nation's watchful gaze has found.
In covert ways, they seek to prove
The beings from beyond our kind.
Eyes keen, they trace celestial flight,
Through networks vast, their sights aligned.
Government's grip, both day and night,
Tracks beings wondrous and refined.
With satellites, they map the skies,
Piercing depths where secrets hide.
Codes decrypted, veils revised,
To trace the otherworldly race and kind.
Agents blend, in crowds they roam,
Observing signs beyond our sight.
Unseen hands guide, decode the tome,
Revealing truth, with cosmic might.
Their radars sweep, their sensors sniff,
Tracking traces left unseen.
For aliens amongst us, they'll sift,
Silent guardians, their vigil keen.
But veiled in words, this knowledge lies,
Hushed truths, unknown to most.
For they hide, beneath the bluest skies,
Their secrets kept, by the curious host.
Petals Of Pain
For the rose who once stood tall, bright colourful with petals in her prime.
The attachment of the thorn that settled itself upon her, its true ugliness to be revealed through time.
Lately shes been reminded of why you don’t come near her anymore, your feeling of disgust.
Yet shes expected to wear a mask for you, whilst inside she’s filled with nothing but mistrust.
The clenched arms, lying closed up, back turned to her at night.
She’s been reminded to keep it all to herself, express nothing, for fear you might bite.
With every conflict between you, the one at fault, the bleeding soul, scarring, to blame her will always be.
It’s much easier for you if she remains silent about her feeling’s, to just let things be.
For her the tears continue to flow endlessly, the aching in her heart.
That constant reminder, you both would be better off apart.
With every thorn you’ve pierced into her heart, she has slowly lost her brightness, her colourful sense of self.
She’s now trapped in your water bowl ambiguous to blend in with the rest, for fear of being left on the shelf.
Her now dull exterior proves you prefer anyone or anything other than her at the other side of your phone.
You’ll never know how often you’ve made her feel ignored, confused and all alone.
She yearns inside to be like the rest, to be free, to have her colour back once again.
Instead, this withered rose has yet to be watered and is losing one by one, each of her petals of pain.