Shoutbox - 59 comments
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~M@r!~ says:
I look to the sky at the stars that twinkle over my head
Hoping that the blood, sweat and countless tears that I have shed
Will somehow push me up further to reach the light of my dreams
To turn all my fantasies I have as real as they seem
But me being human, and without care of consequence
I shrink myself smaller, ignoring how my mistakes take effect
And just like the flip of a switch, there goes my life, to pitch black
Reminicin' on my once bright future, yet now there's no turning back
For once you take a wrong turn, down the wrong road
No more doors seem to open, after your only exit has closed
Trapped in my own sorrow, and self loathing, I can't escape
I'm reaching here and there for a handout but there is nothing to take
For none are willing to help someone who has contradicted their will
To move forward, like others, so I'm left to stand alone and still
And oh how I envy those that are so happy with opportunity so grand
Yet refuse to take grasp of the possibilities they hold in their hands
And here I am, in my dark, and without a hope of salvation
Years of ignorance, left me unprepared for such an occasion
I have been told that the soils of my ways have now been cleansed
But then why do I still only see the backs of my family and friends
Despite their kind words, they continue to judge me for my past
I'm here in my home, among my own but I still feel as an outcast
So what choice do I have other then to reconstruct who I really am
I must show them that I know the bad decisions I made demand
That I learn a lesson so I can go on living this life of mine
Without regrets as I mature, with the inevitable passing of time
Yet here I am, clueless as to where to begin with such a task
And am forced to only put a temporary face of understanding as my mask
It%u2019s like smile now, and cry later but why should I cry at all
Since no flowers will grow if I let these welling tears fall
And crying a river isn't enough to clean my slate from the engraved
Shame I keep, the s...
posted Jun 16
The Horse and Four says:
as the hands of time draw back and punch the air like dream marionettes
the darkest find their virtue in apathy
the sane find their grip on revenge
and the ones who wait on their saviour
wait underneath the clouds
heads turned upward
but the spirits living in trees
pierce them with invisible darts
filled with demonic venom
as the skin fills
and the brain swells and numbers fall
in the grass
the Kingdom
is built.
posted Jun 14
now is your chance to be a hero says:
you call this a trial of my peers? well I dont think so.
I don't remember seeing that old judge in grade school.
posted Jun 11
Danielle says:
No
I will not allow myself to be held responsible
when I can't make you happy every minute of the day,
when you are so depressed you can't bear it
when you hate yourself and you can't stand it
it's unfair that you try to make me feel this way.
I am not responsible
for the way that you perceive yourself to be
for your past that has forever shattered your mind
my heart breaks everyday, yet yours I have to find?
for distracting you from you at the expense of me
I won't be held responsible
if the sparkle in your eyes won't come through
if you doubt every ounce of your ability and talent
if you do nothing more than sit and cry, lament
if someone else in your life proves to be untrue
I will consider myself responsible
if something I've done brought a tear to your eye
were I the perpetrator that betrayed your trust
had I have been unkind, uncaring then you must
when I'm dying inside, I can't, even when I try
posted Jun 11
..Missy.. says:
Lying lifeless in a field of "what if"'s.
Wide open, silent.
Unspoken whispers flutter in the air.
"How could you? Why would you dare?"
I ponder the path that brought me to this field of truth...or lies.
I wonder is it true that "what you see, is what you have"?
Once upon a time, in a far off feild, I heard whispers that there was more.
Yet, here I lie...immobilised.
Paralysed from the mind down, and the whispers I hear now are equally cavalier.
The heavens are slowly changing colours.
The earth turns to sea and the sea to galaxy unnamed and unknown.
Everything is in peaceful chaos.
Feelings, thoughts, limits, expectations...fly through the space just above my eyes...yet stillness...it ingulfs this moment.
Is anything as I thought it to be?
Was anyone ever even here with me? Wait...how long have I been lying here?
My mold in the grass is rather deep.
I keep trying to rise.
Place my hands firmly on hollow ground and lift myself up.
Yet as I just begin to feel my weight again, I look back down and see my hands...unmoved and body stone cold.
Nothing has changed.
Im still here.
Planted in this earth...or sea...or galaxy...
posted Jun 11
Comment replies (2)
Danielle says:
I remember feeling similar to this in a near death experience, only a little more peaceful. Brought back memories. Beautiful imagery.
posted Jun 11
..Missy.. says:
ya. when i wrote this i definetly wasnt "peaceful". ha. thankfully i wrote this a while ago and moments pass. i would love to hear about your experience.
posted Jun 13
~M@r!~ says:
tears
when the tears come,
they slide down my face.
each one sliding, slowly,
at a steady pace.
i can never make them stop,
these never ending tears.
why do i cry?
i don't know,
it's not from sorrow, pain, or fears.
its just something that happens,
no matter how nice the day.
don't know what to do,
its always this way.
it makes me weep to lay awake at night,
to think of an answer,
feels like i never sleep.
i think my dreams miss me,
i know i miss them,
my only escape.
when the tears come,
they slide down my face.
each one sliding, slowly,
at a steady pace
posted Jun 8
Comment replies (1)
Travis Morgan says:
I think what makes this poem powerful, is how so many people will be able to relate to it.
posted Jun 8
Sharon.mp3 says:
i was a monster back in '88
he told me while stirring his
caffeinated beverage.
ironic pop.
i was indulging such matter
that it came through my pores
and left it for birds to eat.
we walked under neon lights
and watched our veins glow.
like a river, or something.
we talked about women.
and their fetish for faux fur coats,
he was never able to afford one.
but i was a sympathetic fool,
nostalgia flabbergasted me.
our conversation slept with the fishes.
i never really met him.
stardust.
makes no sense. i'm not even sure what it means.
posted Jun 8
neolythic says:
Muse
She moves through the darkness of my mind like an owl on a summer breeze. Sharp talons finding moist flesh, capturing, subduing. I am at her mercy, unable to flee, unwilling to fight. She is my love and I her willing victim. She tears at my mind, stirring my soul. Captured in her grip I can but write and revel in the words that come.
My companion, my nemesis, my muse.
posted Jun 6
..Missy.. says:
she's untaimed and untrained. her pedals dont grow straight and pretty and pink. she's curled and crunched and turned up and she likes growin that way. no, that sun doesn't make her happy. she cringes at his arrival. go away. she turns. she wants nothing from him. her roots grow deep. DEEP. so deep she hits volcanic. it burns her tips. still she grows deeper. her roots grow wide. so far she intertwines with his...and his...and his...and hers. interlocked, she likes it. she feels something like love. she withers and grows faint, still growing taller, being cut down by the ice falling from heaven. yet, that fertilizer she shot into her stem gives her new life. she's free. she blows in the wind. she looses her colour but who cares? who says you have to be a colourful soul? no one. they didnt say that. they didn't call her 'lilac'. they didn't name her 'rose'. they didn't shape her pedals. she shaped her own. she is who she is. she grows how she grows. she dies how she dies. that cold, solid substance that leans up against her rubs her the wrong way. but it feels better than the pain. leave her alone. she doesn't need your help. she can do it on her own. she likes her space in the rock and the hard place. she's a wildflower. she's free. you only wish you were.
posted Jun 1
Comment replies (2)
matthew addington | photography says:
Really enjoyed this. Very freestyle-meets-spoken word.
posted Jun 7
urbannerd says:
Better in the summer still good in winter
Nourish me to whole, soulful like dinner
Back when I was thinner, probably grade nine
I met this little usher, in my church, she was fine
I was rather shy and didn't have a line
Didn't have a mind, I was dumb and blind
Then she'd catch me, looking at her butt, so what
It was cute and she knew but I knew not to touch
She had the cooties, and I was being Dr. Phil
Tryna to cop a feel and Jack it off to Jill
That's when I had it bad, a cocky handgun
Now I'm twenty-one and riding shotgun
I'm danny stacks, the ladies call me daddy in the sack
aka the curious one who killed the cat
You got it, let me catch it. If it itches let me scratch it
Not so fast if it's worth having I'll wait for that molasses
I'm into role-playing you know, act out a movie
You can be the beauty I'm your groupie, looky loo
I hope it's not too rude, but I do want to get down
Don't mean to sound so prude, but I want to hear the sound
How you breathe and you cuss, with me in your bust
Screaming for us, while we begin to bust, I hope you do
Can't help but staring at you after we get done
Laughing while your juices run, ready for triathlon, mile two
I hope you like it, I wanna bite it, I'm so excited I can't deny it but
You say you wanna drive so get on top and never stop
So when the rooms starts to rock all the neighbors call the cops
As we lovemake.
posted Jun 17