Potential trigger warning: This poem may have references to acts of self-harm. An echo.That vibrates in a soundless roomThat nicks the wallsThat stains the tubThat crumples the sheetsBut leaves me aloneExcept for the scar on my cheekThe things I do to myselfI don’t know why. To check out more of Jo Kolar’s work, go here.
Found another one of my articles that I wrote on my laptop a while ago. The title is once again the day I probably finished it; it just needed a few tweaks here and there. I really ought to comb through my laptop more frequently, but at least I found it. Heh, it really helps… Read More “30 July 2018” by adreamy1.
This is a collaborative poem between me and Ryan Hair. I wrote the lines in italics, while his lines are in regular font. I do hope you enjoy our poem; it was quite thrilling to write it together. As well, if you’re interested in collaborating on a poem, reach out to me via my contact page and we… Read More I can not find any way alone (ft. Ryan Hair).
While the sky is a beautiful blue Inside the house, lies a shrunken flower with a half-dead dream. To check out more of adreamy1’s work, go here.
I broke away from the ocean, in through our eyes, the waves at high tides, the roccia parts and splits where Moses split the Red Sea. In the womb of wind, limbs and bones outline the fading star, and the world seemed to drown in yellow velleities of loneliness. Eyes to the dream,… Read More into loneliness.
If ever I were to meetthe dream by sea-green eyesas they sleep, a beveled glassyet a reverie, I would imposeupon those that leftin the legs of wombto a leave-taking of melancholyas death alone drownsas the darkened sunset drowns. A sway of dark weeps,the ocean bleeds in the lithe rockswaddled at the surfdebased into what is… Read More a dream that wasn’t mine.
In a dream be it my monster in the eyrie of leave-taking be it my death for the throes into the sea; my monster in the dark lassitude unsure but illuminated in which there is the torpid leg of maple sap warmed with hisses of the sea; my monster through branches befalls me. © 2020… Read More My Monster.
Remembering dim roomshushed conversationwhispering those complimentsalmost embarrassedtrying to communicate the reverencethe pure weight of all this feelingwading so deep in love Ah, they’re only moments… Remembering falling rainburied in each other’s coatskissing through smilesdesire whilst laughingbeing perfectly overwhelmed by someonethe greatness that is all-consumingswallowed so deeply by love They’re only momentsso missingso missed Today is… Read More “Only Moments” by Tom Alexander.
When the quiet hits the roomLike a silent bomb, it arrivesAnd in the silence- a lonely feelIt comes in a pretty disguise. And as you sigh, releasing breath,The day washes right away.But silence in never ending formSometimes brings sadness your way. It can make you think of happier timesOr even the struggles you’ve facedIt can… Read More “Silence” by FromtheHeart.
A lonely boy in a sea of lonely nightsin that last hour of the daycapturing words he wishes he had saidwriting them downso they’re out of his head Music fills the airsoothing the tensionlessening the cares Take a trip to the other side:what makes the other person tick,what makes them come alive,what’s in their head… Read More “In A Sea Of Lonely Nights” by Kimberly Ray.
An epilogue of a vista in father’s ocean eyes; the echo of the dream fallen in conniption a chrysalis of fuckery at the mind-felt waves in ice welts; torturing in a quasi-silencing of shame as the wind blows the sail, riffs on the skin, witnessing the passivity of the shore in winter carver; something in… Read More For mercy. (Updated with audio recording).
I’m just going to push the boat out,spit some words and mess about.That’s what I love about writing,when you start out you have no idea what to talk about.Then words just appear out of thin air,with flare, with the power of a prayer. Single words can lead to warfareor they can take you from little… Read More “Independence” by Martin The Poet.
A/N: Inspired by this sketch prompt. Eyes lissom, lost twinned in amnesia of darkness wrapped around the orphaned dream interwoven alone leave me alone; in transient smoke effused light and light then darkness crowned with arms around the stillness & blood-flow in droplets under the tides to the rocks at sea. © 2020 lucysworks.com All… Read More Eyes #2
Hey, I’ve been trying to talk in the sandbanks of languid darkness, eons of violets caved in embryos a pitfall of resignation; you can never hear my voice, but you will see my eyes shift to the ground spending reflection—who are you, you, you are little known, and that’s okay, as a faceless shore, we… Read More Hey.
Original draft. Shudder, these leaves scuffle In the admission of winter In the yellowing stillness That faces you, bleeding mindlessness; You are a fool, you are death, where eyes decipher the plea in the thorns of a mother’s tree, and the godhood in the horizon, that wept in smothered dark, alone in Elysium labor in… Read More Alive (to drown).
those thoughts rage ripping the armour, then to arrive at base under fire ambushed and falling I slide to the trench, not where men stood in their barricade boots- not. like. this. at. all- Aware this area I’ve been before where fragments fester inside out but not the bodies the fallen men, not. like. this.… Read More “A Side of Me” by Hannah Faulkner.
Look at all the eyes of humanity and light cry into blood-welling forgotten in unbridled free verse; around the corner that last breath in the mirror moves in dream and desire nigh to each taraxcum dandelion flowering over mother’s relics; another death under the stars. Into the darkest shadows, in murderous torpor, times of the… Read More Look at all the eyes.
Solitude arrayed in language unnoticed in its death, as the leaves survive the siege of winter, taloned with wounds rejoicing in the wind. In my dreams, there is silence as the flowers die through our eyes; whispers held, empty, beneath our feet of the grey stone, leave a rock after death they exist unlike flowers… Read More Eyes.
you’ll always be alone in the city; gone, the final breath in the icy mouths the secret of a lover, in the absence of morning and the affinity of dark at night; a fucked up dream stares left in its presence in the old city lights, warmer than the protestation that rebels against animal bones… Read More City.
In an age of watching… through a mind suffice in icy tombs; What word through our own, to have finally sought the black star that was the world we lived sleepless. And, awake. Drifting… Silence bare on the dark mid-sea. The peony masking light… Read More Awake (Draft).