metaphor
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Life is not a walk in the park
Not a nice park anyway
Yes, there are trees and flowers
And lovely sunsets too
But
Under the picture-perfect skies
The brutal game is on
Érase un ser vagando sin rumbo
Con una mochila a sus espaldas
Para recorrer el mundo.
Érase una mochila cargada
De chuchillas, piedras y recuerdos
Pesados, pesadas y oxidadas.
I'm on a little boat
Which was never meant to set sail.
I'm on a little boat,
It is anchored by the bay.
I'm on a little boat
From where I greet you every day.
I'm on a little boat
I'm falling
But you won't catch me.
I'm falling,
Landing out this time.
I'm falling
But you didn't push me.
I'm falling
But you didn't pull me.
"I can't help it if you're falling"
Open your eyes.long have they waited for you to wake.One hundred years ago, they saw light.Don't you think they deserve to again?
Look down at me.
The shapes you see, that could easily be reflections of who you want, If you forget it's just me.
And does it matter, the bleak expression unforgettably cutting across my eyes?
A rose
Beautiful, with sharp prickly points
Viewed from any angle, it is still a rose
From an optimist's perspective,
A wonderful bloom of color
From a pessimist's eyes,
A withered, flowerless vine,
A stained glass tragedy
A matching crystal ball
Tossed much like that of bowling
Speeding orbs down God's old rumored hall
Time was like water,
But you were like wine
Sweet ocean, bruised and black
Bleeding the times
I can be the dyed rose petals scattered on your bed
Whispering of love's lost chances, piercing veins instead
Now we've scattered too, like them, who've long since lost their voice
Fireflies flutter deeply within
while knowing he will flee again
pierces my chest
Desire swells in these lips
which ache to sip of him
Pieces moved
across a flat board
- a metaphor surely
with some of us pawns
( the majority maybe)
and very few kings.
And this is symbolic
both historically and personally
Pieces moved
across a flat board
- a metaphor surely
with some of us pawns
( the majority maybe)
and very few kings.
And this is symbolic
both historically and personally
LIONESS
Go into your cave Lick your woundsI understand You're a leo too....
You give all of what you gotAll that you can do....
KISS ME YOU FOOL!!
I know you understand me
It's uncanny
We have a rhyme Unlike the many we spent time ....
YOU, ME and THE SEA
The wind carried the ocean’s voice to me
she whispered:
“Come to me my lover
I hear you love another
Bring her to me
IT’S ALL ABOUT LOVE
Did you feel the rain?
The pictures and words
that floated by tonight...
Did you listen To the rain?
That tapped your shoulder
AND WE FOUND ALL THAT
I know agony.
I know victory.
I thought I knew love...
My nights sleeping with shadows
of empty arms.
And lonely dreams
MY HEART FLIES
My heart flies to you
No one in the world
Moves me like you do..
Wings to lift my heart
When we are apart
Until I'm in your arms
Once again
And then...
i long to write thousands of breathtaking metaphors about you,
but you always seem to stump me.
to what can i compare your features?
flowers? fruit? freedom?
If I were to have
my very own genie
to grant me three wishes,
as in the tales of old
I would ask for but one-
let not this new found bliss
come to an end,
although it is said
A clean and clear, white sheet of paper; messed by ink.
The world and me, the people here; we live that brink.
Just like this night -- a villain veiled -- and then I sigh.
This tyrant darkness shakes my shoulders. Solitude!
Heart and mind a separate creature
Disparate in every feature
Matched and mirrored, evil twins
And this is where our play begins
Heart a mass of nerves, emotions
Torn to shreds by its devotions
Why must every metaphor be taken literally?
For a dog that lays in the sun has no feline whiskers
and a wilted rose still receives its beauteous name.
The night is a closed chest—
someone is standing inside
under its vaulted,
holy black cloisters…
two someones, and
another dozen: they jump
up and down,
up and down.
The man walked down the windy road to see what he could find.
After several minutes the road jumped up and he was sure he lost his mind.
When flying,
One should be careful.
So
many
things
could go wrong.
You could be like Icarus--
so enamored
by the light
by the wind
and the great,
If I were to have
my very own genie
to grant me three wishes,
as in tales of old
I would ask for but one-
let not this new- found bliss
come to an end, although it is said
all good things must.
The beautiful crystalline snow-
falls from the Heavens
to the earth below.
The wind swirls it
with a playful gust
it blankets the ground
like diamond dust.
When young and fresh
Dandelions,
yellow splotches
speckle verdant lawns
while violets
wow
with their purple pomp
Ah!
April's awe
of
jonquils
lilacs
and crocus
like a heavenly chorus
My heart is like
an unformed
lump
in the hands
of a sculptor-
you.
Who with love
can transform it
into a thing
of beauty
to be cherished
and admired...
Or-
So much relies uponLittle working bees.From cold winters to scorching summers,The bees never failTo contribute for their hive.
They must endure
the twin hardships
of hunger and cold,
their home the frozen
tundra.
They often starve
when game is scarce
and the hunt
has gone badly.
And if these sufferings
They are thoroughly domesticated-
and some unfortunates
are driven to the point of cowering.
They will gladly beg
for a bone
and to receive table scraps-
is to be in Heaven.
I know you've seen the empty cave
That echoes deep regret
For time lost here casts darker shadows
Than memory's silhouette
Is freedom merely illusion
like a mirage, so real, so clear?
Do I struggle in vain to reach it,
just to watch it disappear?
An elusive, distant shimmering dream,
promising sweet salvation?
The flame has a life of its own
Mysteriously ignited by the fuel of existence and
Set ablaze by the quaintness of the world’s wonders,
Wee beginnings as a single spark in a pit of ember
Mason’s garden
Impeccablein placementand in shaping,row on rowof topiaryin greys and reds.
Ch'an music II
Drink in a whilethe image ofan unfilled teacup.
Enter that spaceflawless, open,enclosed by porcelain walls.
The wound seeps and drains its fluids
Around the feverish swollen area of the
Initial attack. Pea sized shapes of plasma
Drip down to the calloused elbow sliding
Along like rain on a pane of glass. In its
The moon is determined
Shining above for the world to see
Showing his face in the day
Where he is least welcome
The moon is determened
He smiles broadly in the light of his love
Sides a flutter, do note deprive,
All but the shutter, it is but alive.
No words to reveal,
Nor times to unshield.
Believe in only one's own,
Yet follow the severed sides that shiver endlessly,
While sitting in a small, dimly-lit coffee shop, my eye is caught by a small decorative pillow sulking in the corner on a long wooden bench.
a feather at one’s nape:amidst that cocktail ofsound sight scenthis piqued some part of me;wafting, it beckonedand stroked my core.
Hiding, watching, waiting
I’m sitting in the shadows
Peaking through the curtains
In the darkness enclosed
Waiting for him
Hiding, watching, waiting
I sip my cup of black tea
You are where the sea and the sky meet-A line of the horizon that many have tried to reachBut so magnificent, so beautiful, so ever changing,that no one can help themselves There are stories you tell of merfolk and fae, that you know like they are
Every petal painted pink and prime,Green leaves arranged with perfect symmetry,A few bright shades with which to tell a life,And yet a yearning in the purity. Structure formed and inside wholly planned,Meticulously minding every speck,Ideal distri
I remember giving a bracelet to one of my babysitter's when I was young. I made it out of my mother's yarn.
I remember picking dandelions as a kid
gathering a bouquet to bring to my teacher or mom
the innocence behind it
I didn't know that these beautiful flowers were actually
There is a collection tray,
Decorated with a golden cover
And pretty rocks the crows brought;
As it is passed around
The false silver scream at false gold,
Both bronze,
A broken soldier in the quiet night
dying to take back the light
head high in a losing fight
to hide from those who know
with each swing, a child died
not just his, but the one inside
Because Summer is like a High School fling;her faux-blonde bun tied atop her headwrapped in box-braids—wild weave feeding
My therapist said that I might have PTSD;that the sight of any bug in my bed may send
me into hysterics. She says that I’m scythingtoo much skin off around my ankles, and my
The way her hair fell onhis chest, the pattern ofher smeared lipstick;
a flesh planchettehumming againstthe ribcage
of a poet who neverwrote hisown poetry.
"The dead rise in classic form,Shakespearean and angry,to touch my body."-- Dancing Bear, The Dead
There was a rose that stood out from all the red ravishing ones.
This one bloomed too early onto the sacred ground of Mother Nature's beautiful creation,
I could hear the wind,
rustling through your veins, when
you opened your mouth and the gnarled wings of a hummingbird fell out.
I could taste the regret,
Years of lost time
Quietly echo
Sentiments of regret,
Remorse,
And a vague sort-of hatred.
I wanted to tell you,
Rose petals wrap against each other in
their whispered secrets; too scared to reveal
the charms they own. Masks are not ever real.
You, my dear, are a bomb
You have reduced me to sheer atoms
With the force of your eloquent words
Stronger than any weapon that the hands of man have produced
The fall was harsh, the winter was bitter.
A frozen field failed to yield spring life
except for one flower. It was no quitter.
It pushed and pounded on the ice in strife
I want to say thank you
For showing me how to love,
But more importantly
How to give
Without an ulterior.
I want to say thank you
i am deep in a forest;
disoriented.
my vision blurs with tears,
my legs buckle and I crawl
hands and knees,
through mud and thickets,
my skin shredded by thorns,
sweat running down my back.
Hazel eyes staring back through the thin glass of her reflection as she glances at her features; knotty brown hair curling at the ends, creating false little smiles framing her cheeks, listless eyes finding every imperfection and criticizing every
Whispers drift with the salty breeze. Oh, my dear.
His tender hand brushes a lock of hair
behind her ear. Just, for me, bear
it a little longer. Let’s enjoy the fireworks at eight.
It's been a long time since I've written anything, but I have the biggest crush so... there's that.
I'm sending you a
Party invitation
I hope you'll respond
The beat of the drums shook the Earth,
but my feet remained unmoved,
tripping and trying to search
for the right jive and groove.
Trickling in from the heavens
came that fateful, unexpected storm,
Tulips,
The color of sweetened cream.
Delicate, like the whisper,
Lulling you into dreams.
Burning crimson,
Cutting through chilled air,
Precise on a frozen branch,
Adolescent girls held each other when movies got scary
and spied on their neighbors during weekly feuds.
Conversations about homework and boys
danced around them like a protective halo.
I’m living life in a river bed --
The path was drawn before I was born.
The world is so loud and full of life,
But silence cannot be hidden here.
I’m living life in a river bed --
i blind those that blaspheme my
omnipresent and invisible nature.
to my shoving nudges
you deny and you tear
and shield your eyes from
I love you!
And I don’t know how to tell you that I love you
Is the problem that we’re having here
The thing is you don’t even realize
How much I love you
And you won’t unless I make you realize
As she looks out the window, her tail swishes.
Is this what’s become of her wishes?
This panther turned domestic
Is no less majestic
Than the vision of herself
That she left high on a shelf.
Please fill my lungs up with sealing wax
Archaic artifice is familiar; let this be how I die
I could not live with myself
In these twisted refractions
I could not go on
Her heart seemed to of thudded against the floor
I looked at her
Her mouth agape and a string of blood
Slowly drips from her mouth
To the floor
“We'll begin / With a spin / Traveling in / The world of my creation / What we'll see / Will defy / Explanation” -Pure Imagination, Gene Wilder
Come along, my friend.
The silk-soft dewdrops crash so quickly against the calloused ground,The scent of fresh earth fills my nose.The birds take cover all around,I see the blooming of a rose. Calmness fills the silence,I watch the soft flowers be rinsed.The water glide
Everyone tells me what I did wrong and how to fix it for next time.
Next time.
Next time there won’t be a next time.
There are too many holes and trysts and trails in my heart
I’m shutting it all down.
I am
An undiscovered oilfield; dust driving dry over it. Covered in layers of crust, hidden from the world. So much untapped potential waiting to be
found.
There's this fine divine bottle of 1961 Bordeaux.
Her curves would make the strongest man weak.
From the silk feel of her hair to the soles of her feet,
ravenous creature
feeding on scraps and whispers
tired of waiting
no longer sitting
patiently or silently
we are more.
more than you remember.
we were fire.
maybe I was just the lighter
maybe you were all the trees burning off us
maybe you saw me as the candle,
Dear Beautiful,
How can I say that I lived enough if I didn't know who you was
You entered my life like a tour bus
So I chased you and this time it'll be the two of us
This is a new year and a new me
we are monsters together,
huddled under the bed
of our childhood selves,
keeping each other warm
when there is nothing to eat
but nightmares.
Sweet fruit,
Forbidden fruit,
I shall ignore god's warning,
For to taste ambrosia I shall sin ten-thousand times more.
I cannot resist the serpent,
Nor do I think I would so desire.
Go to a museum and look at a painting
Observe it carefully…you got it? Good
Now close your eyes and describe the painting
Did it have meaning? How was the technique?
Was the artist famous? Did you feel any emotions?
There was once a young kid of Madrid
Whose smile they could never get rid.
They wanted to throw him
To break him, to stone him.
But he wasn't- 'twas only forbid.
The weeping willow
An interesting fellow.
Is she really sad?
Her drooping branches
Can hide contempt and sorrow
Only known to her.
And i never know
If the weeping willow tree
i love you in the same way that a wave crashesthen comes up slowlyto kiss your feet.
You are crisp summer grass, the crunch of fallen leaves
You are dandelion tufts floating on a spring breeze
You are the muffled crunch of winter's icy freeze
You are the sun and moon, the mountains and seas
The woods are where the bad things happen, they said
Where the evil goes
To celebrate its victories
To dance with hungry wolves
I drove through the city today.The one you always tell me about.The old bricks seemed to scream your name.And my heart, it burned hotter than the forges of the factory fires.I wish I could tell you about it.
The darkness buried within my soul, has the capability to eat my mind whole.
The words that I try and speak the actions I try and keep, are in itself; pure beauty.
the constanants tingle, the vowels vibrate into placenot quite creating the words but leaving in my brain a faint traceI can feel them in my body, they move from my head into my heart
I was a latent volcano with lust to erupt
only I didn’t know it, the sides of my mouth
curling upwards in grotesque clown grins
The Broken Hinged Door
By Zoe Pierson
It’s seen the good, the battered,
the blessings, and scorn.
The late nights of sneaking out,
the arrivals of long gone people,
the past, the present,
i feel like a shell;
a phrase which doesn’t suggest
i feel hollow.
a shell protects whats inside,
but that isn’t to say that
When you speak, your voice is a sigh
Everything you say sounds like a ghost
And when you take a breath I can hear you wondering how you died and if this is heaven
Anyone who's been on a roller coaster can tell you,
there are ups and downs and loops and twists.
For the thrill-seekers, it's a rush but
for the fearful, the worst part is knowing that
My head and heart is a dark, vast fieldA place of undead truths and haunting liesDangerous secrets and a muddle of negativityAnd this is why, towards such things, my lips are sealed
I am from the seeds dropped from familiar hands,
dug into the cigar box storing old memories,
sprinkled lightly onto the soil which bore me into this earth,
Six thirty—
Alarm rings;
I text my boyfriend I love him,
And go back to bed.
Six forty five—
Alarm rings again;
And I get out of bed.
Thus begins every school day,
...And oh, he's pretty.
But he's pretty
the way sunsets are pretty
because the thing that makes them so pretty
is the very pollution that fills your lungs with poison,
She saw the waves crash a storm against cheeksCracking hurricanes into men's eyesDroplets of rain trickled endlessly into puddles of veinsCreating a reserve of rainy day puddles to look back on.
There was a looming sadness cast over the age of men, a shadow of the greatness to come.
Standing back
To see it all
Every vivid curve
Paint portraying
Each lesson learned
Each moment of pain
Each difficult day
To see it all
Connect and flow
plesant as a peach
baby from the beach
not a lot on her mind, just pockets full of lost dimes
little red rocket crusing down the street
the sun and its heat, keep making her scabs sting
sweaty and petty
My job:
To write down everything for those of you who can’t.
I’m a scribe for the eyes who stare at blank pages,
with too much to say, but no words to say it.
Not all that is magic comes out of a black top hat Because stars burn above in pitch black.
It's a clump of gas that can hardly contain itself
But that doesn't stop us from looking up
And spilling our hearts out.
I cannot shake this feeling
Like an itch you cannot scratch,
Sitting under darkened skies
Ready to collapse.
On the days you don’t feel appreciated
Just know that we are here
To guide you through the thunderstorms
And comfort you out of fear
You’re a fragile spirit, afraid to leave the grave of which you were laid to rest.
Metaphorically, of course…
Flowers used to grow in your veins and now they’ve long withered away and died.
I was once a Mo(u)rning tide,
Lifeless due to the moon's Departure.
And so I'd push back into the Sea and hide,
because my purpose was unsure.
Nightfall is honest,
For when the dawn comes,
the sun awakens,
I too.
The truth dies with rising gold,
a new lie spun for all's eyes.
everything i write lately has been nothing but pain
but i fail to notice all the flowers
growing from the rain
i see the storm
not the cleanse
i see a new beginning
as the end
Sing. Sing your note,
That sonorous, twin-cam tune that makes all of my kind—
That makes all of our hearts beat that much harder.
Let me fling you around.
Fluttering wings mark a descent from the skyGossamer weight that bends the stemThe Butterfly drinks the Aster dryAnd without a thought, takes to the heavens again
Welcome, vessels of flesh and bloodTo my humble theatre, why have you come?Was it fear that brought you here?New toys for the puppeteer
You are the cartographerAnd I, the compass roseYour maps show where we've already beenBut there are other places still to go
I wish I were among the stars
There is better than where we are
I'd shine above the world below
And sparkle when I wanted so
Down here on solid ground there's hate
Life comes with all this stress and weight
A lover I once had
was like a stone.
Constantly cold
and forever unamused,
they seemed an
unlikely candidate,
but despite all of this,
they made me feel at home.
i wake up to pale sunlightfiltering through my pink curtainsstaining my eyelids a sleepy rosemy fingers wander to my bed framesmooth and white, embellished with seashells
The happiest absolute of life to live,
would be to start the work, unnamed, in death,
But confused above this harsh world,
I'd died a worker with the riches.
That everything you wouldn't lose,
The first gunshot panged across every acre
as the warcry of a thousand giddy generals
seized the shot’s dominance
and monopolized the airwaves.
Never been the luckiest prisoner / no time off from off days / lost hair / inmates claiming they're all innocent / i am too / got lost on my way to school / they told me the wrong route / had me try on this suit / shit im scared / if the shoe fits
Lately this darkness has been eating me aliveThis darkness that I was lost in.Standing in that extra 7 miles.I was a fool to have walked in it.Like a chemist, you brewed up meth.Feeding me with happiness,
We were like a summer suntan.
It took time to create but once it was there
Man, it was beautiful.
We had it all.
We were the romance of movies.
It was quick and easy
I am just like an airplane
I sometimes encounter turbulence, but I push through
The weather behind me is forgiven and forgotten as I make my way towards blue skies
My family is the woods.
My dad is the dirt,
giving us a solid foundation to grow in.
My mom is the tallest tree,
overseeing everything that occurs.
My brother is the opposite bank of the creek,
Words like knives. Spoke like rain. Everything he said drove me insane.
Lips like cherries.Tongue like viper. Everything I said, shot down, sniper.
She's not sure which matters
So as voices of conciousness and wisdom enter
They only glide across her ears
inquire at the door of logic's acceptance
and are silently lead through the corridor
I am a seed
I am planted and nurtured, carefully tended as I grow, there is no knowledge of what I will become, a beginning awaiting
I am a flower
It’s strange, isn’t it?
Its warmth is needed for survival
But as soon as you reach toward it
As soon as you try to look at it a little more closely
You get burned
You're blinded
Settle down butterfly,
one more wish and maybe you'll fly.
Days on end with no hope again,
On Tuesday I ran home
Just to get away from school
I can't stand how the people
Are so judging, are so cruel
They look at me, disgusted
As if they wish that I was dead
Colours we strive to leave behind, Hope of a future beyond our lives.
A legacy at the mercy of future generations, It's the only variation.
I will not hold a lie against my face,
a pixellated mask, heavy on my conscience.
The sound of youth constructing barriers of separation
is thunderous and inescapable.
Their tiny, rough hands
You were so sweet
I knew better than to try to consume you all at once
If i over indulge then my stomach would ache
So i told myself "maybe just a taste"
But you weren't composed of artificial flavors
Dangling slow from groping hands,Gently aflutter, wing'ed lace is limp.Tired wings flitting, once grand.How wrinkled and red and crimped.Would they blame nectar? Would they blame
Another world inside of me
That no one else will ever see
Mostly it is comforting
But in the dark
where no one sees
It's actually quite lonely..
I am made of sticks and stones.
I rebuilt myself from those
I found
Strewn about the kitchen floor,
Remnants of your drunken tirades.
My bones felt hollow
When I learned that yours
You were a bird
Free, fragile
He was a vulture
Cruel, devious
You were a storm
Somber, dark
From our view the moon goes into secrecy almost every month;
it simply makes itself invisible to or eyes,
but it always comes back;
the moon aways ends its secret ventures.
Maybe we are sometimes like the moon,
He'll beat you with secrets
He'll be drunk off lies
You'd be a fool to fall into his trap
I know I cannot control you
Your life is yours to live
Experiment with your set of boys in
Me without a filter
is a home without the realtor
I'm independent
I'm meant to be more than
what society's telling me
selling me without the sticker
that says I'm old, off the kilter
All was in vain
We knew it
Our hearts have fractured
But only I am pierced by the shards
Now words are exchanged
You didn’t know how you spoke
Through the emptiness of your eyes
A sorrowful painter never shows their work, wrapped in memories, connecting words unspoken.// Aching with attention, craving another stroke of the brush, gently gliding over rough canvases.// Leaking misery the paint drips, along with your
Much like a woman is the sky.
In the afternoon she is there, attending to her daily routine.
She shines bright, yet is taken for granted most days.
As evening nears, the night is only just beginning.
Every morning
I awake
With the
Overbearing
Sense of
Dread
That everyone
Expects
Me
To carry
Silently.
This
I'm holding into this string
This string is an unstable cable
shaky and weak
This string is tangled,
and ruined, and soon it will wither and break
It's no longer strong for the years have made it weary.
It has been an era since I have gazed
Into the mirrored eyes of morning.
The thought lingers in an ocean
Of fruitless expectation.
The yearning, thirsting shore
Waits untouched by equipoised waves
You told me I couldn't
You called me stupid
You made a "what not to do" example out of me
And here I still stand
Can a stupid kid graduate high school with a certificate in Graphic Design?
The clouds have veins,
at the end of the day, when the sun kisses the edges,
and the purple spreads along the blue, dancing on the white
I found a weed in the garden
and called it
"a beautiful flower"
but they smacked my hand
and called it
"disgusting"
"a pest"
"undsesirable"
and pulled its roots from the ground
we are full of stories to tell
memories we store and dreams that we sell
soon they fade from view
sadly they dry as the morning dew
ignorant of a dream's worth
or a lesson to which memory gave birth
I fell in love with the ocean,
Its murky depths became my home.
Everyday I would go to her,
Skip rocks over her delicate skin,
And she would tickle my limbs,
Her cold hands trembling in my presence.
Floor 89.
I think I'm dying,
Could it be that I have forgotten how to breathe?
In and out with every breath my lungs repeat
You are the sky
I am the sea
and although we make each other complete
the universe says we shall never meet.
We are divided by a horizon
made prevalent by the sun that you see
Imagine a train station-
Bustling with people-
Crammed with bodies and breath,
Eyes looking towards the ground-
Avoiding those whom are pressed against them in every direction,
How do others expect me to describe you?
How do you describe what growing feels like?
How do you describe what breathing feels like?
How do you describe what being asleep feels like?
In a nearby field, there lives a rose, as wild
a creature as an unbridled stallion,
an old friend of mine.
Do you hate the way that our magnetized timesturn us all to metal shavings-- push and pull--charged eachday to fill up negative spacewith negative attraction?Were you repulsed when polarities
You are my sweetest garden of effervescent lilies
And the winter’s tender whistle of song in my ear
The hour when a rainbow first awakens
And a sunset’s dewy tears turn to skyfall
Trembling, he sits and waits for the news.
Something terrible happened.
His mother had called him in the middle
Of a chemistry test,
His favorite class.
“Tyler,” she had said
“I need you, come home.”
Like the eternal night
And the ethereal day
My mind cannot stop,
Its brakes made of glass.
Thinking consistently,
Delicate matters only.
Like ancient clockwork,
There was no point in saving that part of the garden, for it was long gone.
The flowers, dead and dry, no longer vibrant with color, laid stiffly parallel to the ground.
The soil, too, was devoid of nutrients.
Depression is a widow's veil.
A black, looming object..light and wispy, blowing with every change of the wind.
It's flowery design serves to hide the pain and agony that lies beneath.
Music is everything
It is soul
It is raw emotion
It is joy and it is fear
It is sight while it is sound
I've been pulled out to sea,
Dragged underwater,
Drowning.
But physically, I am smiling and free.
It dances gently in the breeze
And glows a gentle red
The smoke causes a violent wheeze
The light of a flame has misled
So many to the brink of death
But I will not fall victim to these tricks
I close my eyes.
I want to see
The canopy of oaks
Dancing together
Swaying
Their mossy branches
Back and forth
To their natural rhythm
I want to smell
Morning mist settles silently upon the pond.
A chilling dampness curses this horrid ground.
Nothing stirs or voices opinion.
Once full of life, now desolate, cold.
No frogs singing, dragonflies dancing, ducks diving.
You start from who you are;
Sweet, innocent, and caring. people ask and you say you're ok but no one knows how you're truly faring.
Don’t mind me
I’m really ok
I just don’t want to be awake
All I ever do is make mistakes
Don’t find me
I’m running away
I just don’t want to be
Someone like me
Nature.
It surrouds us.
With its leaves,
soft petals,
and twisting vines
it produces a never-ending
beauty.
It helps us
relax.
It helps us
grow.
It helps us
The women, who face persecution still
With paychecks that won’t fill the bill
What about the others
The internment camp group
Japanese who were captured and colored
As terrorists and
Worse communists
It is the peak of a mountain
Looking out onto the snow covered waves of rock
Inhaling the clean crisp air
As a single bald eagle soars above
It is the clear night sky uneffected by ambient light
My mother of Resolution
A mother of hope
A listener of wisdom
My detective of crime
Understanding of all imperfections
Loving, caring, compassionate
I watched as paul bearers wound you six feet under ground and sprinkled dirt on your pine box?
Where are you going, was it by choice or by chance or did time just run out on your life’s clock?
If I could change anything huh?
I always think to myself money.
Money money money.
We as people run off of money.
It's practically our caffeine.
I sit here now, writing about money because I need money.
From a distance much to great,
He silently seals his fate.
With a rush of the tide,
He loses the feelings he tried to hide.
His head spins,
Bigot
Closed Minded
Delusional
Judgemental
Hatred
I have been told that this would happen,
but why?
Other people before us has
There is nothing left of me
Disappeared into the sea
I understand this is the end
Even without a single friend
And so I realize
I simply idealize
So I fight for another breath
Black and Blue
Do you ever get a clue?
Black and red
do you know how much i bled?
black and green
You were always too keen
Black and yellow
Afterwords, you were always so mellow.
Day to day we’re always told that we need to be
the utmost best we can be; to shine brighter than
the last and burn with more intensity. Flames
blazing and creeping up the walls. Any higher
Words are unspoken,
Things are not said,
But everything she feels is stuck in her head.
The sighs of a hurting, broken heart
Her feelings inside tear her apart.
Words that whisper,
It's extremely loud in here,
Though you do not hear it from there.
You may not be able to tell,
There are a lot of arguments
And the music is always up too loud.
Though the words spoken, shake,
I Fight,
I Fight For The Light.
I Fight For Those Sitting Their Room,
Crying At Night, Holding That Knife,
And Wishing They Died.
I Fight For The Ones Who Lost Hope,
Broken bottles
lining the window seels
where pictures should be
where crosses should be
liquor soaking in the walls
yet not absorbing the blows
virbration from the seel decore
The sky a misty and gray.
The window sill my head does lay,
Contemplating the days before,
when the sun's dry heat singed my to the core,
When I'd run quickly off the sand that was hot and dry,
In equal amounts each year
It is this we must fear-
For a day cannot expire without it;
Pain
I feel it taking over me inside
The cries, the struggles
The pain that needs to be set free
Why did you hurt me?
Why must I feel the way I do because of you
So many questions gone unanswered
the ladies of the foam
prepare for the dance
their legs kicking
higher
as they stretch to the sky
the ladies of the foam
start the opening number
slowly
Hidden Lies
The present is cheap,
The future looks bleak.
An image of solace,
Is all the eyes meet.
In reality, it is a downfall.
The world can be simply defined
Floating through an abyss of tears and fears.
Do they notice me? Can they help wipe the errors?
Dancing, twirling; I scream to be free.
One day they will see, it was me they always needed.
how much more grateful can i be for all the things you’ve done for me? the times that seemed like i drove you crazy with all of my problems, but i was too lazy to try to solve them on my own two feet
sit up, good posture, keep the focus, we’ve done this quite a thousand times. not to complain, we love the routine: sweetest melodies, notes that chime. take a deep breath, poise and position,
with such a good memory, i can’t remember momentarily, that is, your beautiful eye color. it happened so suddenly, that’s what everyone says. especially me, heartbroken and searching, i guess.
i may never know your trend of thought, i may never know why it was you i sought, forget the buzzing bee inside my head, what i ought. why do things so bad feel so good? i guess i’d better handle what i should;
11/26/08 this new environment could use improvement. two-faced like the villain, who am i kiddin’? i got my clique, my homeboys and friends. family is backbone no matter how i pretend.
the radiant and heartwarmingpalette of the sun’s colorsas i’ve seen all the passing secondsof night turn to light. so is it rightthat i witness the darkness?dawn manifests in many ways,
consider the sponge: soaking it all up, but only partly whole- blown in parts. the art of learning seems expedient, yet draining. gaining general, but filtering
if you’re gonna be a tool,then you’d ought to be useful.don’t screw me in anoverwhelming mannerwhile undermining the gemsstemming deep in the ground
shades for the bright future…
black attireto absorb the forecasted radiancewith just a little whiteto reflect the dissonance,(blinding) overcast that doesn’t last.
i’m guessing coming out for carpentry lessonswould work if you saw results.the shavings as proof which you’re cravingare all between the cracks of your framework,just check your footwear
I see our souls dancing as we entwine,
rhythm, steps, keeping time.
Beautiful whisps of silver cord,
dancing upward, heaven-toward.
Our love keeps us bound,
T'Was the Christmas season,
Where a little boy glees with reason.
He's filled with joy,
As he waits for hid favorite toy.
The little boy couldn't wait,
but it was just too late.
Allow me to clear my throat first
Ahem,
Fuck you, English Teacher, with the same capital F
You gave me on that paper you refused to accept
I know my ABCs and my punctuation
Words of honey can lead to arrogance,
And words of vinegar often sting.
It is your job to educate and enrich,
Judge and be judge.
Welcome to high school, where this rule won’t budge.
We all try to be that one-in-a-million;
Well good luck, in this world of four fucking BILLION.
You’re feeling insecure
Don’t know what for
You have everything
That others dream for
You are beautiful, strong, and pure
Are you frightened by the storm?
Come with me where you’ll be warm,
The moon tried to reach the earth,
Casting midnight’s afterbirth.
Lightning scars the blackened skies,
Come with me, we’ll run and hide,
Fond memories, led astray
No glimpse of hope, such disarray
Scornful judgment brings out a beast, so tame
Blinded by its fear, naught bravery remain
Tearing at the wounds that reject
In the valley of the Shadow of Death,
There’s no place to hide, no place to rest.
The demons there, haunting your every step.
Choking you ‘till you have no breath.
The light at the end of the tunnel
When your pain is tangible
You can reach out and touch it.
It’s everywhere, consuming you.
You don’t even realize how lon_____g
it’s been eating away at your insides, until
they finally cave in and c
Morning sounded prettier to a young girl than the afternoon.
Piegon toed and bugged eyed walking to the bustop at an early time she did not know existed
Saw the most human beings she'd ever seen in her life: 20.
Nights of terror seem to pass
And days of sorrow fade.
In every moment that I laugh
I slowly crawl out of the shade.
Bits and pieces start to form
But some parts are still gone.
Being an aspie can be a source of misery or a source of pride, it’s all in the bearer’s perception. “What’s an aspie?” you might ask. It’s a term for someone who bears the rigorous condition of aspergers.
Hey you…
Yeah, you.
The girl with all the scars and stories to tell.
The boy who sits alone in the corner,
The child with a black eye from “falling down the stairs”,
I’m here for you,
Now and forever.
I am in love with your nature.
I am in love with your words,How, like dew, they riddleThe meadows of my mind,How, like rain, they tickleThe branches of my lungs.
What a landmark;Your curly lockedWhite willow head,Your rhododendronLashes, a canopyOver poolsThat frozeOn my lined face.Your oak branchesThat brushedMy lined shoulders,
Don't leave.
Just don't.
Stay close to me.
Be patient and gentle,
then you'll see.
Get to know me.
I have layers upon layers
of thought spent on who I am.
There's contradictions.
Your eyes are not like oceansNor is your laugh like the tinkling of bells
You are made of flesh and bloodNot some backwards metaphor
Love is like a wild stormWith a shower of broken hearted rainIt will swing you like a tornadoFlood your heart like a hurricaneIts hard to love someoneThat doesn’t love you
Time ticks slowly, almost like my heart with out you
Just like the Moon, has to be away from the Sun,
I have to be away from you.
Every once in awhile you visit me in my dreams
I wish I had the metaphors tolend description to the love of God.“A father throws his own son in front of a train…”What an inadequate thought. You threwhim from heaven to earth – no.More, he jumped.
From the depths
of dark nothingness
came a person:
the Writer-
walking.
She carried a light
a pointed, glinting weapon
sharply yellow-
illuminating.
At the age of 7, I found a passion for literature that I had been raised to value. My mother new the benefits of opening the door to a positive outlet for a young woman that was destined to go through Hell and high water.
I’m only a little bird
Trapped in a Cage
Barred down by the rest of Society
They strap me in chains
Forbid me to fly away
There's nothing left for this little bird
another wave of nostalgia that i’m drowning under,
which makes me wonder
if i ever grew up outside of height,
because i might
be stuck in the same situation;
jammed seatbelt.
kicking dust as i move ahead, instead
of getting down and dirty. i could, but
i’m more of an insider as you can see
these sounds; the synergy
of cooperation and contemplation
buried in metaphors,
the allegory of a door
representing the figurative
pathway to the highways
and byways of my brain-
the complexity. as it rains,
i'm brainstorming some more
My mind is a sprouting seed;
Knowledge a necessity,
Growth a challenge.
Too much impatience causes me to wilt;
I know why the caged bird sings
To be let free to flap her wings
But she knows one day this will be
Sister is a willow. Bending, bowing to the thoughts and refuge of the forest.
An original? May-be. But the sapling is still meek, and is swallowed by the foliage,
The platforms are my heels, votes garnered with the slick smile on my face.
Pristine pearls and playful pins make my ballots better.
dreams; elusive and free draw upon the cracks of carefully placed glass
cool to love’s delicate touch, warmth escapes into the junglehow can this be? utters the quiet voice of curiosity
Standing on the edge
Looking down into the swirling abyss below
That could be my watery grave
Just a quick step forward
And it would all be over
Leaning forward
Thoughts flooding in
Personify me.
The way you see me, and the way I see myself will forever reign
different.
Take control of the ink,
push limbs to trees and write out a new beginning,
ending,
way to live,
What Lies Ahead
I haven’t written a poem in awhile
It’s as if my thoughts were put in a file.
A tale is given to show,
Sometimes i
Press an ear to the ceiling
and listen for a voice; the voice.
No one speaks.
Nothing changes.
I remain un-phased.
solitary
in a room of one's own,
There is this Darkness that loves to entrap me every single night...
No sleep.
I feel nocturnal.
It always starts off when i lay down in my bed.
A jumble of confusion,
dreams,
and people.
Thrown into my world
as I repeatingly starve for words.
I toss these words
bleached with emotion
into heavy waters.
As this sea tosses restless, the same does my soul.Where is my Salvation? What can make me whole?These questions left unanswered as the water engulfs all.And while I beg for mercy, what will stop my fall?
We walked hand-in-hand
Through the woods
With the sun at our backs
The air tasting like salt
And the sound of water hitting rocks,
We approached the lake.
It's funny,
I'm the size of an
the sweet little nothings you once whispered
are now imprinted in my brain.
they are cave paintings on a wall
written in forever ink.
Love
Is the moment
When I hear a plane overhead
And think of you
Love
Is the days
I'm out with my family
And smile at motorcycles
I stand upon the endless shore,
Gazing at the great beyond,
Soaking every open dream it holds,
Hearing its endless song.
Bullies
Drive people away.
Give them a ride home
And drop them off at a dead
End.
Disregard stop signs.
Pass on a double-yellow
And don't stop when they say
"When."
RETURN TO THE HUNDRED ACRE WOOD.
IT’S NOT A DOOR PRIZE OR A GOODY BAG.
WE CAN TAKE IT AS A SIGN.
ROADSIDE BOMBS KEEP EXPLODING
POWERFUL PEOPLE INTERVENE.
THE PRIZE IS WON, BUT THE PEACE, AS, ALWAYS, ELUSIVE.
The ball has been in your court
And I’ve been patiently waiting for you to serve it back
But I’m tired
Of the water breaks
Of the time outs
Of the sub-ins
I just wanted one game
Respect the beauty of what God has to offer
Go gently, seeking all beauty and bounty
Tread lightly, in the blue abyss, never ending
All encompassing, what the sea can bless us with
A day of surf, I leave it all behind
A being but not of flesh
He is existence
He is truth
He is all
The melody he sings
Graces the ears
Like honey the tongue
A fresh current sprung
Spreading, reaching, growing, flowing—unheard
I saw upon a dying street
Beneath the trees' barren
Humiliation,
A young man
(who reminds me of my grandfather)
Raking all the leaves
Into a sad pile
And laughing,
He sets it on fire
My Compass rose, in sync with yours
You are the two heads, to my oars,
I thank the wind, the land, the sea,
That God has washed you to my shores
What is a body but from dust is flesh?
'Tis purposeful to carry every soul,
O'er life we sail, traverse with burdens set,
[This skeleton!] This ship! The cracks are felt from deck to hull.
