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SympathyThere was a man yesterday at my window
Asking me why his wife had left him.
Opened the window,
Put my hands on his face,
And snapped his neck
“If you had only told her how much you loved her,
She could have given you all you wanted and more”
Me and You, Yesterday You asked me about my life yesterday, and at the time I wasn't really able to respond truthfully. Well, here you go: the complete and total truth (because I literally have nothing better to do).
Two days ago I enlisted myself in a 10 day insomnia research project to see if it would somehow help me wake me up to the reality of the world (ha, ha, see what I did there?). I don't know why; I don't even suffer from insomnia. Really, my enlistment in the program is like a giant dick up the ass of the research facility. They have to deal with assholes like me all the time. I guess I really don't care anymore- when they find out I don't qualify I'll probably be too far into the study for them to take any legal action. Even if I don't finish the study I still get a stipend. That's a consolation, I guess.
The thing that keeps me up at night isn't really insomnia, it's my over analytical thought process. I have an obsession with the human condition- with eyes especially
LinearLife seems to move in a
Linear direction in
From brights to black.
It turns greyer every day
Like your hair will do;
Like your sight will do
Where are we now?
Can we point on a palate?
On a page?
When we run our fingers through
The braile-stained book of life
We flip the switch, close the door, and
Try to sleep through the darkness.
I think that our days are
Darkened by insight
And pictures of long dead insects
I think that we believe
Our perfect wings to be broken.
Are we as old now at this moment
As we will ever be,
Or is everything happening…
I Know BetterShe whispers to me with her eyes when she thinks I'm not looking;
I'd say she hates me,
Steeping TeaThere is a place not too far from your
Mind’s eye where an alligator sits down
To enjoy the scenery. However, as he
Sits, the world begins to melt.
First go the trees, melting like little
Wax soldiers left out in the sun. The
Alligator doesn’t really mind. He is paying
Too much attention to the mouth forming
In the centre of a purple marsh.
As he watches, the mouth begins to swallow
The colour from the world. And it is
Painful, too. A million colours are gone now
As if they never existed, as if they were
Sucked from the flesh of imagination.
Finally the mouth opens to tell the alligator
Good morning, but the alligator is gone,
And the colourless sun has begun its descent.
The Air I opened my front door and lifted my eyelids. The morning air was cold enough to materialize my breath, but my face felt warm enough that the air was refreshing rather than chilling. I stepped into the doorway expecting something extraordinary, only to feel the familiar crunch of gravel under my shoes like tiny bones breaking under the weight of my conscious body. The morning was familiar with me already, though we had never met. She wrapped her body of fog around mine as I stepped out of my doorway and swept her icy fingers through my hair as I drifted down the pathway of gravel-bones. The day was my pet, she was my other half, we were one, and against such a non-concrete being I felt naked.
"Together," The morning seemed to whisper into my ears, "together, together, together."
Sleep DownWake up,
We can make breakfast in bed and
Weave together our calloused fingers
We can share our afternoons
Pretending like the world is made of diamonds
We can stay up late and
Laugh at those old nightime TV shows
Mr DeathMr. Death has got me by my teeth
WHY DON'T YOU RUN
WHY STOP NOW?
Do not dare to move a muscle.
Yelling Written Words
If you write me a letter
with your heart full of hate
your words will burn away the paper,
leaving ashes in its wake.
Please keep your written voice down,
the yelling hurts my heart.
Just please don't ask my secrets of me,
it will only make this
that much worse.
Delving deep inside myself,
I push you far away.
These wounds mean nothing to me,
not a feather or a sand grain.
My hands are burnt,
my heart is scarred,
just leave me be,
I'm too far gone.
You gave me bread on a rainy day
Such goodness took my breath away.
You told the world how you felt.
Through shallow confusion my heart melt.
We grew close and drifted apart.
I still love you with all my heart.
I found you hurt and to a cave we fled.
I could only kiss your lips but I watched as you bled.
I had to go to save your life.
I broke a promise that ended your strife.
You found some berries and ended a life.
We heard a cannon; a dog was near.
We ran for the Cornucopia and fled our fear.
Climbing the metal, making it safe.
Cato appeared but I had faith.
He grabbed you up, said it was over.
I had more luck than a four-leaf clover.
He fell to the dogs and they chewed him up.
The Capitol said, "YO MAN, WASSUP?"
"Only one victor can win in the end!"
I told him I wouldn't go without him.
So we grabbed our berries, sorry Prim.
The Capitol wailed, "NO STOP!"
"The winners are Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"
The Simple PoemThis poem will begin from here.
It shall start with a dusk and a child. Trying.
Trying to fly a kite in the rain.
The sunrays have just dimmed out.
Or mellowed down, surrendering to a dark azure.
The pitter-patter of rains
Drenching the fingers of the child on the roof. Fingers
That hold on to the thread that connects, quite shamelessly,
The dark skies to a kite, blue coloured. Throughout.
The dusk. I would have thought of writing a poem.
And only thought, when the thread shall snap
Taking the kite down. And the child too.
Let's watch the two as they progress downwards
Let's watch the two and see if down's the place they'll be.
Let's watch the two.
One spiralling down through the open air, not knowing
Where it shall land. The other
Climbing down the stairs
Running down the stairs
To a place,
To a land where
The first one promised to land.
I should have known, is ants.
It shall eat through a poem I should have written.
A simple poem, it would have been
Losing MeI find peace in loathing
I suffer pleasure from pain
I feel comfort in dark clothing
Whether judgment or acceptance is my bane
I have cried all my tears
Still in darkness I am bound
Wandering desperately through the years
The true identities never to be found
Lost is all
A blanked out, thrown out memory
From the abuses that do appall
Hope and love was my every
But now my life will soon dissolve
Into a screaming dark place with no resolve...
Empty Souls Empty Souls...
The night is black
Nothing but broken stars
And empty dreams
To frame its d.a.r.k.n.e.s.s.
The book is
Its pages numb & mute
It is empty
Because what is a book
Without majestic words
To make it feel
W H O L E
The wind is cold
It speaks lies
With an all-deceiving tongue
It dances with the trees
The lonely moon
With its scent
And I am
The Red Road
There is a Red Road
That stretches from Cape Town to the Elysium Fields
And on that road there is a pit stop at Robben Island
To a prisoner's cell, prisoner 46664
Where the heart of a hero
Was once born
There is a Red Road
That runs from Berlin to Hades
And on the road there is a pit stop at the Biederitz River
Where the brutal ashes of a man named Adolf
Drift away in the currents
There is a Red Road
That lies between Poland to Zion
And on that road there is a pit stop at Auschwitz
Where the spirits of the dead
Still gather at the Death Wall
There are a million pit stops to be made
On the myriad paths of the interwoven labyrinths
That bind us together and tear us apart
Warning you and me of the potholes & pitfalls
On the Red Road that is the World
Telling us in a whisper "Don't forget it"
Telling us in a prayer "Don't repeat it"
©2010 Sarah Donnelly
My BrotherI watched my brother go through the door, wanting him to stay with us for more.
He's too young, he has too much life,
to go where death comes on swift wings.
My mother cries, my father is silent.
I stand as a vigil on our doorway, watching as he fades from sight.
I look through the newspaper, seeing if America won against Iraq.
I see soldiers who are only boys, who have seen more bloodshed than most old men.
I look through the page of the dead, praying I don't see my brothers' name.
He is not, but I still don't sway,
because my brother is still away.
I pray for the day that he comes home,
safe and ok.
MechanicsIt's not much, but if you take it
The world has a chance to smile again.
-What is it?
It's a broken machine
-What does it do?
It fixes dreams
-Do my dreams need fixing?
Do your dreams need fixing?
You look towards the sky with blank eyes,
And I know what you're thinking
-Do my dreams need fixing?
You whisper to the sky you cannot see
For a moment you want to take off running,
-Fix my dreams
You hold out your hand
-Fix my dreams
You cautiously demand.
Through your fingers I slip my own;
A broken machine who found its way home
LithiumA single trickling rain drop
Like gossamer silk strands
Gliding along my third eye
Whispers wind's secret caress
I exhale. Lungs releasing-
Pressing translucent memories;
Fragment of a fragment
As water kisses rose petal,
Drifting down stream's curtain
Pretty little curtain.
Where the wizard lies.
He smiles up at me
With his monocled brow-
Sipping on warm tea
And fingers quacking casually
To the rhythm of his notes
This is a safe-zone. Free-zone.
Innocent eyes sparkle,
Imploring it to be true. I breathe.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More