Voices in the head, play dead.
River, rib, rill, red.
Thunderbolts within the tread.
Gold, be made to lead.
Tornado, blue widening gyre.
Belladonna, byre.
Lyrics of the liquid lyre.
Orange funeral pyre.
Mandrake, when you start to shriek.
Canine, thy bad bane.
Feline, tremulous top teak.
Wading through green rain.
Paranoid, schizophrenia.
Thought-spark, white shirt hurt?
Lachrymose the languor law.
Arrowed, O black quirt.
Severance? Gone, thine own way.
Hell and Heaven, hay.
Doubt, dread, doom, dung disarray.
Away from me stay.
Coral reef, the legal brief.
Cases, caught a cold?
Cannabis, thy pressured kif.
Brown the grizzly bold.
Nanotechnological?
That means very small.
Mother Entropy, your call.
Sword, halve. Vine, vinall.
Tyrannosaur, how you roar!
Kill floor crimson gore!
Lava volcanic null door!
Wind up war before!
Act I
I saw the fairest of maidens besides her safest haven
Buried beneath the sands of Father time–Her father's presence
Across the stone-cold cross, her beauty caught my stare
Before I knew it I was there
Shedding her share of tears
I felt a great debt of satisfaction
Fill my nerves apart
The pitch of peers that pressured
satisfaction
Finally depart
I've played my part – a part of masculation
A part of me still numb
So I thought loving her would ease the tension
Fill a drying heart
Act II
With every passing day with haste we bed
for pleasure till' we're dead
A streak of bleaker weeks grew weaker
Bicker twists to bitter sex
The verge of virgin walls that flooded
Numb from numbers of contractions
Act III
Having her haven taken
I Hurt her Wholeheartedly
Every breath from her taken-
The hollers, the hollow pleas
For pleasure I had forsaken
Her, Bound her to only me
It's time I give us our break and
Forever let ourselves be
In the darkness of despair where shadows loom,
Evolves the diamond from the ashy gloom.
From fiery trials and pressured pain,
Emerges the diamond struggling - not in vain.
The cuts and chips make the light shine bright,
Revealing beauty hidden from sight.
The diamond in the ashes formed by the flame,
A witness of resilience, it does proclaim.
Each facet carved and every tear shed,
Polishes the diamond and the soul’s thread.
Through disdainful despair, hope still thrives
Like the diamond in the furnace, our spirit survives.
For in the deep dangerous dark and doomed night,
The diamond, the survivor – brilliantly beautiful, bold and bright.
Copyright © 2019 by Crystal David John
(I wrote this poem for my niece who went through such difficulty and yet shone through it all. She continues to face her challenges with God's grace and her own willpower.)
Santa cow and her sidekick Dairy Delight
Stomped over to the fence with eyes so bright
They were each wearing a fluffy Santa hat
I did not know what to make of that
We are ready to deliver the presents Santa Cow said
Was she daft? Crazy? Nuts? Had she been dropped on her head?
But Santa does that, doesn’t he? I said to her in a whispery way
Not to this dairy farm, he doesn’t honey, she said, sassy that day
It is always us, Dairy Delight said, so where are the gifts?
The elf has them but he has been thrown into snow drifts
When will we get them? I felt pressured right now.
As soon as I dig him out, I told Miss Santa Cow.
stuck questioning if someone has feelings for you
unrequited love: I smiled never amazed by what
happens. I doubt if she has feelings for me, I'd question
why. It's probably because she can easily say what she
thinks in such clearity, and do to such affordability's
it can be justified as me being the right guy for her.
I felt the pressure of being pressured into a situation.
I knew for one she is temporay and those
eorminat fixtures in my life
wouldn't understand why I allowed her to position me.
" One of her friends told me a story about her brother
she said when they were small, she put cookie crumbs on
his face while he was sleeping and told there father he
took the cookies' See that kinda stuff just speak
about a person."I aint in know kinda love for real man!"
-------------------------limerence------------------------------------
--------- manipulators who used deceit, flattery, and--------------------------------------------- -----------------emotional pressure to achieve their goals-------------------------------------
She is A-1 singing and all but as a wife I'd think about it.
The sea thrill and amplify the soul,
Deep, calm, rugged; don't be a fool.
Mystery kill, perhaps adventure,
Only the brave survive to shore.
The dark sea floor,
I want to explore.
Make no mistake,
Be careful not to shake.
Down under, I'm being pressured,
My greatest fear is being measured.
I crave back what light had shown,
For after this darkness, the dawn.
I'm use to darkness all along,
Till the light shown like a song.
Hearing the truth set me free,
My sighing soul is willing to see.
pressure
you said
i was too much
too many questions
too many feelings
too many where is this goings
you said i was pressuring you
like love was something
i kept forcing into your hands
so i apologized
for wanting clarity
for wanting effort
for wanting to know
i mattered
i made myself smaller
quieter
easier to keep
but no one talks about
the pressure you placed on me
the pressure to wait
without asking why
the pressure to understand
without being understood
the pressure to accept
half-love
and call it patience
you wanted freedom
without consequences
attention
without commitment
and somehow
my need to feel secure
became the problem
you said i pushed too hard
but you were the one
asking me to stay
while giving me reasons
to leave
and now i see it —
i wasn’t pressuring you
i was just tired
of being pressured
to pretend
almost was enough.
Nobody told me ‘the world was my oyster’
I never knew they were the best years of my life
Years of freedom, driving around, without a wife
There I was, feeling pressured and pressed
To want what others had, nice house, social standing
Goals that only compounded the stress
Why couldn’t I play ball anymore, eat junk food
What made me want to grow up
When I wasn’t sure I could…
And now here I am in old age
Vainly trying to recapture a life
Where I hop in the car and go
~ free from the grip of a controlling wife
To grow up and accept I’m not a kid anymore
To learn and unlearn for me to become more
while still trying to hold on to the pieces of who I was before
To wanting to make everyone proud
while ignoring the voices in my head that get loud
To knowing they’re waiting for me to decide on what I’m doing in my life
To not knowing what direction I’m taking
whether it’s wrong or right
To get lectured and then feel pressured
To hear them say,
“Hey, you’re getting older, that means they know better, right?”
That means they’ve calculated it—it’s a method to their madness
To know that whatever happens, happens
To find out no matter what my outcome is, I will be elevated
To be understood rather than underestimated
Suddenly, something grew inside my heart
Holding back the hemorrhage.
Ignoring all those years,
all those layers,
the weight that eroded me.
I couldn't look in the mirror,
recognize myself anymore.
I had changed.
It spread easily and steadily—
Asking no permission—just
silently rushing within my limits.
Found a force that tore me apart,
it needed to be released.
Never meant to harm you or myself.
It was the strongest,
I couldn't allow it to flourish.
For some, even love isn't enough.
I was dead anyway.
And I question myself,
Was it in vain? Was it a lesson?
Never wanted to break my word,
However, I could never become this one.
Never could I excuse that.
Your boundaries weren’t questioned or pressured.
But surely you always knew why
we ended up apart.
You know well that
I hold this bruise until death.
I keep quietly walking,
towards a cynical future.
Somehow your presence,
would make me drop the trigger.
Breathing, seeking ways
to stay away.
And if I could, I would paint the skies
pitch black, chaotic as tempests.
I hadn't shown you the storms.
Yet, wherever you were, surely
you would recognize my art.
I owe you an apology I thought I hated you for leaving me behind.
but the truth is I hate myself for falling for you.
I didn't realize that I what I was doing was considered harassment.
I'm sorry that I got a little to attached to you.
I'm am truly sorry I never ment for things to go as far as they did.
now I see you in my dreams you ask me what kind of dreams.
I tell you some are the same and others are normal.
the truth is the dreams with you in them is something we never had true love.
I've seen what could of been and tried to warp that into reality
but it was just a dream that wont come true and I see that now
I'm sorry if you ever felt peer pressured into anything
we agreed to go our different way just know I wish you the best of luck
is crazy to think we got this far
you could of reported me for harassment but you didn't
you say you call me dork as a sing that you care
if you care then why cant we just be friends?
I'm trying to see it though your eyes and perspective but i cant
I'm letting go without letting go
so good bye till we meet again Ed
A nineteen-year-old boy
from Wallace
Idaho
who had, until this present time
never set foot beyond the city limits
or had a drink,
or kissed a girl;
stood in a sunlit
steamy
Asian field
and plunged his bayonet
deep into the heart
of a fellow human being.
Because he was asked to,
told to,
forced to,
pressured to.
The boy would later
step gently
on to a landmine
eviscerating
the lower half of his body;
and as his intestines
spilled onto the foreign land,
his lingering glazing eyes
stared
questioningly
into the slowly dimming light.
For the very briefest moment in time
two peoples were told to hate
to kill
as others had before
as others will do again.
Recalling that day,
That she made me stay,
To hear her devastating staccato,
Sounding like the buzz of a mosquito.
I had to board the bus late,
That totally changed my fate.
I had gone home placated,
Just like someone forced to vacate.
As the bus moved down the street,
I continually felt a hit,
Telling me to alight,
Though in a life-threatening fright.
Ignoring the storm,
I continued my journey home.
Suddenly, the bus stopped to pick up a man—
OMG! It was that strange man.
A man who had been pronounced dead,
After being killed by the robot he made.
Screams rose from every direction,
Like a movie filled with action.
The man walked slowly toward me,
Holding a knife, pressured to be like a key—
Threatening to kill
Anyone who would not assure his will.
Fate was pronouncing me dead,
Each heartbeat skipping its thread.
For I was the only one
Who had never won
Any battle besides being born.
Soft crimson velvet
Strangling, sickening
My pale, soft neck,
Warm candlelit glow,
Crimson velvet.
Black silk gloves,
The threads threatening,
Ribbons reddening my subtle skin,
Slow breathing, lungs tight,
Crimson velvet.
Rose gold pearls
Teasing the pearls flowing
Down the crescent eyes,
Pulse churning,
Adernaline,
Pressured, pressed throat,
Crimson Velvet.
Ghost face,
Crimson face, crimson lips.
Burnt fingertips,
Smoky heart, extra tender,
Crimson Velvet.
When “pretty” really is never pretty enough
The pressure to look like everyone else is such a hassle. The pressure to have prettier eyes, skin, hair, body shape, and everything else. So why is everyone always so pressured to look different than they are. “The pretty girls have is better.” “The handsome boys have it better.” Why do we think like that. Well honestly, I don’t know because I do the same. “I wish I was prettier.” “I wish I had pretty blue eyes.” “I wish I had bigger hips.” Why can’t we be happy with what we have? “Butterflies can’t see their wings. They can’t see how truly beautiful they are, but everyone else can. People are like that as well.” -Naya Riveria. Where like butterflies. We can’t see our own wings but other can. Other people can see that your pretty or handsome but you can’t. Im sitting here writing this while im not even taking advice. I do wish i was prettier, i do wish i looked different. So why is pretty never pretty enough for anyone.
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