My3Verz
2021-02-25 01:26 pm
Once I Was Was I Once Whom I Am Am I Whom Whom I Was Once I Was
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Gord
2021-02-25 01:46 am
Understand and teach, Understated leaning; Two doves meet, screw, Too political to flee So peruse their feelings. Undo seams, view my being; What ensues is anarchy, Stop to stare at the window, What do you see? A world, without me; Call the children, in at once! It's not what in his heart, It's the way he talks! A speaking hall of mirrors, All it's brilliance lost. Chicken mostly water, Only poultry in part. Justice and peace, Butter and cheese, Elephant man feels, just like bad dreams.
JeanQuiros
2021-02-06 11:45 pm
Averno. Y me escapé de las fauces del infierno Aterrado, completamente perplejo Por peldaños de piedras fui subiendo Lentamente un dolor me fue deteniendo Un dolor que peldaño tras peldaño fue creciendo Agudo malestar en cada uno de mis extremos Revisé buscando la causa de ese malestar intenso Solo para descubrir cuatro grilletes de huesos Calaveras arrastradas con cada movimiento Alaridos en las profundidades reclamaban mi regreso Daban la alarma de un escape en progreso, Alguien intentaba salir del reino del sufrimiento Era yo, que me arrastraba para no ser descubierto, Poco a poco continuaba mi doloroso ascenso Agotando la energía de mi andrajoso cuerpo Entonces advertí que no era humano, era un espectro Un ser pusilánime en un cuerpo descompuesto Un ángel caído tratando de burlar su encierro Sin previo aviso una carcajada me fue estremeciendo Una maligna risa resonaba en el infierno. Abro los ojos, estoy en mi cuarto, en el frío suelo Me levanto rápidamente, me observo en el espejo Soy humano otra vez, solo fue un sueño Pero la carcajada sigue resonando como un eco En la profundidad, en la oscuridad de mi aposento Y se añadió un comentario aún más siniestro No te descuides, aún te espero… Sigueme en mis redes sociales Instagram: @JeanCQuiros Twitter: @JeanQuiros Youtube: JeanCQuiros
Knoble Kaller
2021-02-05 02:18 am
Babies and family and warm woolen mittens these are the things in which we are smitten. Sunlight and rain on my face all insane one patters one warms yet both matter the same. Porpoise and dolphin like gorilla and chimp similarities to cuddle yet don’t make good sense. Oh why are these thoughts so loud in my head of things that concern me and things that are said. Is my heart crying out and my logic repressing or is common sense keeping myself from undressing. Baring soul inner thought is scary at best when guessing who’s trustworthy or in whom to invest. Light of day brings rising clarity for each intense charity of ones mortal soul and the damning sobriety. So tortured inspired and desired the same within friendship and love and all things a flame. Now dry from the patter and warm by the fire to cuddle desire and wash off the mire for all the heart wants is all it requires and that my dear friend is all that must matter.
Gord
2020-12-23 03:32 pm
Drawing breath, intending a scream, Time passes, wake from dreaming, Sometimes excessive zeal demeans, So squeak like the law itself, Garlic men, in the broadest sense, Concentrate on the bread when pressed, But what of butter and how it melts? Even of appalling strength, Does it correspond to depth, or meaning? Rocking chair, what have you seen, Beside the bedside and people watching? Even if time lacking, population immense, Despite desperate pleas: fences.
Innasense
2020-09-13 09:15 pm
Poetry Satirized What is this thing they call poetry? It’s mostly “pretty words” you see Ok, maybe there’s a bit more to it... I’ll see if I can walk ya through it. We rap similes and metaphors, Figurative language whores Plays on words And turns of phrase Emotional squalor And issues for days Lovers lost And sadness deep Words that when trapped Keep us from sleep “Racing to the finish” Or dragging our feet And not to compete or attempt to defeat But simply To complicatedly complete Alleviate or desecrate All depends upon the date Or what kind of day we had Pissed off, celebratory, sad Or in poetic terminology, Raging, blessed, melancholy We personify and mystify “Let them see it through our eyes” We rhyme and reason Or sometimes we don’t It’s not that we can’t It’s more likely we won’t Abstract or concrete Or both all at once Painting deeeeeep pictures... But sometimes only of confusion Poetic delusions 😉 Words made in illusions Or maybe allusions? No wonder we can’t always reach a conclusion... So “pretty words” though they may often be, There is a bit more to this thing... Poetry.
Gord
2020-09-01 04:48 am
A little boating, hidden motives, Net cast far and wide, rod and line, Bits of fishing where the hook is life, We are the bait and our path decided. A single holding, hot and high, One's Lifetime amidst the roses, A river flowing, ascots and wine, Single toll trip last night, no guilt. No guild and no scrill. No landmarks or sites. Gifts of civil clothing, Met with concerning eyes, In the yards at night, Burning, the whole thing. The inner coding of my heart of little noting, A bit of doting, conflicts of the coal bin, Am I composing, or composting with silicosis, Wasting away my time with simple nothings, Served of cold beer unnoticed with business going.
Lynn
2020-08-05 12:07 am
Soy el saber de la diosa griega Athena. Ella también, tenía la inteligencia pa excavar los misteriosos del universo. Soy los anillos de Saturno. Somos de las mismas cosas: tierra, rocas, y movimiento. Soy los diamantes debajo de la tierra. Somos el carbono, el cuarto elemento mayor en la galaxia. Y como los diamantes, brillo. Yo tengo diecinueve años pero soy mayor que el sol. Yo soy las estrellas en en cielo. Cuando una estrella nace, una nebulosa necesita derrumbarse. Y también, me caí de la gracia divina. Y eso no fue mi muerte, fue mi nacimiento. Estoy lista para ser una de las estrellas allá. El autor F. Scott Fitzgerald dijo que “cuando tenías diecicinco años tenía el resplandor de la mañana temprana, pero cuando tienes veinte años, tendrás el luminoso triste de la luna.” Soy de los rayos de la luna. No soy más brillante del sol, pero reflejo el resplandor de la gente más como el sol, brillante. Soy luz, soy luz, soy luz. ¿Identidad? ¿Personalidad? Definir es limitar. Entonces, no me limitaré. Soy el árbol viejo en el campo vacío del granjero. Soy sola y mi mente necesita el silencio. Miraré el cielo y todos los animales que me hacen sus casas. Soy la lluvia de las mañanas tempranas cayendo encima del árbol viejo, suave y bastante frío. Soy artista melancólica. Me disparé en el medio del campo entre los girasoles altos. Soy todas esas cosas y todas más. Soy las interpretaciones de la gente que conozco. Aún, las interpretaciones que las otras no son que soy de verdad.
Gord
2020-07-28 05:21 am
Noble steed, noble land, From ovum to the fields. One dances, never glances, Until glasses conceal. Test taker, what is fate? My eyes no longer make it. Stare into the distance, And see the same. Tomorrow is a little late.
Lynn
2020-07-21 01:31 am
devouring the skin inside my lip. of course, everything in the human body is connected. of course. staining the porcelain with blood and iron, iron and blood and water, the permutations of rust. my voice becomes sticky, sickly sweet - the performance of wellness thickened even further by blood. my crazy, concentrated and caustic, drains through my nose and onto my chin and onto my shirt and onto my hands and down the drain. “i wish the blood inside my mouth were yours”.
Gord
2020-06-18 02:23 am
I wrote the list upon my hand, because I was wont to forget. Memory was always a weakness, since birth I assume. I had since then learnt to cope. Would it rain? I wasn't sure, but I would be ready if it did. "Ready to go?" I heard a voice. I nodded, we were probably already late. It was dark outside, raining. The blacktop shimmered with the small bit of dwindling light that escaped through the clouds. The day was early but the day already felt long, characteristic of the gloomy weather. I opened the door, however, to sunlight beaming in my front door. "Great! Looks like it cleared up outside!" but all I could hear was the ocean. The noise of waves tossing themselves on the shore was overwhelming, their loudness filling the air. "Are you alright?" I snapped back into reality. I assured myself I was fine, just lost in thought as usual. I tried to make myself more comfortable by focusing on the inviting weather, although I was visibly nervous. I felt like something bad was going to happen. My foot stepped to the concrete, bending the leather of my shoes and causing them to crease. We walk beside one another in a peaceful silence toward the bus stop, eyes trained on the puddles of the sidewalk. My foot lifted for another step and as it comes back down to reach the water, I felt a wind rush past. I looked up, and I found myself all alone. Once again, I felt the rain upon my face.
Lynn
2020-06-07 12:25 am
i see sunday mornings beyond my time. does sunday still exist? i see my history yawning out before me. can corpses exist on both edges? i see my mother. can grief follow a child out of the womb? time, death, and life roll the die to see which takes their turn first. west and north argue over the sun while east and south clutch each other, wailing. god's suicide passes through us concentric circles of chaos look, there is too much blood in the streets!
Lynn
2020-03-10 12:49 pm
Concept: I am a shooting star, crumbling and burning and falling and falling and falling Don't go back to sleep. Insomnia: faded lipstick, new blues, and morning sea glass. Don't go back to sleep. The summer heat has faded into fall. An autumn picnic in the park— I will love myself despite the ease with which I lean towards the opposite. The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don't go back to sleep.
Gord
2019-12-12 05:32 am
Write your life, line by line, From post to post, time in finite, Decide. Vibration is not entirety, Leave flying to the pilot, Masons, vocational thieves. Applause, Songs written of concepts, Concert to the rest, nonsense. Only to soothe the soul, One forgives and consoles, Otherwise the wise have but knowledge, Lies are all but college, Which behold, Yet deny all the garbage they bestow. Take your hits, pipe by pipe, From fist to fist, time is final, Less vital due to all your fighting.
Gord
2018-11-01 06:54 pm
Reading of lives I enjoy deceit, My letter bold, italic and neat: "Please hear me, Greek, leek, I sometimes write nonsense, Lest hope you would hear it." Leading my lines, Foreseeing poetically, Receiving a liar guilty. He says: "For stanzas today, teacher, I stand like bread features, My brother filet beside me." For once he doesn't lie, Looks for the sky, sees ceiling. Nothing aground marks his feeling, Seeing the concrete, He remarks of life: "To tryst so wildly, again, Would Vivaldi paint so vividly? Probably, and with champagne, because his name has dignity." So seeing his window, He thinks of rain.
Hazey
2018-08-14 03:50 am
The thing that hurts the most. You calmed my storms. You helped make sense of the chaos. You plucked me from brokenness. Helped me find strength. I don't know what it was. But just looking in your eyes. Filled my soul with peace. I miss it. I miss the quiet. The calm. I miss us. I'm starting to feel broken again. Empty inside. Trying my best. Not to let anyone see. But there are days. Where control escapes me. Do you think of me? As often as I think of you? Do you remember my name? What it once meant to you? I look back on that day. March 10th. Where I lost you. Where every image I had of you. Just shattered. You were no longer a refuge. You became a source of pain. You still are to this day. I blame myself for it. For my losing you. It's been three months. Realizing it's true. I don't cry as much. Though my heart still does ache. Try as I might; I can't bring myself to hate; You. The situation. Us. I want to throw it under the proverbial bus. I can't. Because the sky still reminds me of you. It was our destiny. Our sky. The world was going to be ours. Accept it. It's over now. These dreams just won't come true. I need to accept that what we are. Is through.
Eric
2018-01-08 03:19 pm
Goodbye old friend, you've served me well; you did your job throughout this hell. Exhausted - now you're lying here; within your eyes I see the fear. My pal is calling...let him go, he'll never learn, he'll never know how dire it is to lose a friend, but I'll stay with you to the end. And if the Hun should come before you've breathed your last in this damn war, then, so be it, I'll die with you, for loyal friends must see it through until the end, when we'll be seen as one - once more on England's green and pleasant land for which we fought, to plough God's fields as we were taught. I hear the bullets whizzing by, the screaming men, the battle cry. You lift your head to shield my heart, and bullets tear your neck apart. I hold you tight with bloodied hand, I try to rise, I try to stand. I feel the shrapnel from the shell-- Goodbye old friend, you served me well.
Gord
2017-10-18 11:50 am
I have concepts for days, Metaphors for four hours, And wordplays for wakes. I'm not bragging, I'm just impaired, Flawed above the mane. Miscarrying paper knowledge, Cutting loves careless arms. She finds herself wanting, Hair flowing, river forming, Learning is her sophism, So she lies until tomorrow, Feigning disinterest ursury, Tales of cursory, courtesy. A verse aloft in the clouds, Sounds out to an empty crowd, Life of deception floundered. World as in twitching flour, Face equal, equivalent arms, She curtsies and bows, turns; Runs away, her face as ours.
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