Miss.TalksAlot said 10 years, 9 months ago:

You guys are really good at making poems! I envy you. Thanks for posting them I hope it helped yourself a bit.

Miss.TalksAlot said 10 years, 9 months ago:

Believe me in what I tell you,
all the things I say are true.

Deleted User said 10 years, 9 months ago:

I didn’t write this one, I don’t know who did I was given it by another patient in therapy but I really like it and hope you guys will too :)
Man In the Glass:
When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn’t your father, or mother, or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

He’s the fellow to please ‘ never mind all the rest
For he’s with you, clear to the end
And you’ve passed your most difficult, dangerous test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you’ve cheated the man in the glass.

Brooke said 10 years, 8 months ago:

@Miss.TalksAlot @Snooze @The Matter your poems are so nice :)

Birdie said 10 years, 8 months ago:

Assuming I’m not stepping over any personal boundaries, you guys should really consider submitting some of these poems. I know they’re more for personal expression than anything else (and coming from me it’s not much) but that’s real talent and those poems have messages that a lot of people could connect to. Honesty in poetry makes it most beautiful, in my humble opinion:] And those are some truly beautiful poems.

“my love
is the bouquet of bleeding hearts
forever hiding in the alleyway dumpster.

my eyes
are the fractured marbles
lost by a child’s careless fumble.

my heart
like an ocean vast and welcoming,
but abandoned by the creatures that would call it home.

and my body,
a coffin
for the flower that will never grow”. – Fruitless

TheMatter said 10 years, 7 months ago:

I spied you,
weather through
a telescope or a pair of glasses,
I can’t remember.

One way or another,
you were close, here,
in reaching distance,
still under cover,
I let you know I was here,
Ripples…

You kept close enough for your tests,
but kept your distance,
Staying far was tough,
with no rest,
and no risistance.

It didn’t have to be like that.
It was her that told me that.
While you tested and did your
labs, she came to me.
She asked of me for help,
I helped, and then she asked of me
my heart.

She opened herself to me,
She made my life fun,
She brought me smiles,
She told me everything.

TheMatter said 10 years, 6 months ago:

I found a scribbled note in a shoebox in my room today – it’s the box where I put all my writings that I do on paper. It was actually the first part of Blue into Bliss, or at least the first part I wrote. I don’t really know where to tack it on, but I figure that linear order is best, so I’ll tack it onto the start.
I’m planning to turn it into a full song to play in my band – I’m a drummer, but everyone knows I do poetry and from the small amount that they’ve read, they decided that I should write the majority of our lyrics.
Here you go, anyway:

When it’s one of those days where you just feel down,
Or one of those weeks where things fall all around,
One of those months where all plans just go wrong,
Or one of those years where you need the bird song,

We all have those times,
We all need to fight,
To clear all these crimes,
And once more see the light,
I’m there for you though,
Through all of this;
Be there for me
And turn Blue into Bliss

I need you to turn Blue into Bliss,
For the rest of the world is just so hit and miss,
And all it would take is naught but a kiss,
But I need just you to turn Blue into Bliss.

The socials give a mechanical hiss,
As all of their cogs fit together like this,
And none of their world will be hit and miss,
But I’ll still need you to turn Blue into Bliss.

Somewhere out there is a world that does hold,
The two of us with a hug in the cold,
The world I’m with you would be better than this,
For I just need you to turn Blue into bliss.

I just need you to turn Blue into Bliss,
For heaven’s sake can we skip to the kiss?
Do I want to give this story a miss,
When you’re all I’ll need to turn Blue into Bliss?

The social world lets a cloud of steam,
Good makes us cry and bad makes us scream,
Group all surround and pretend they’re a team,
Just for they’re of our low self-esteem.

I’ve drawn my last arrow and wished I don’t miss,
For I need just hit to turn Blue into Bliss,
While others collide, our lives simply kiss,
God I just hope I hit -
And turn Blue into Bliss.

Deleted User said 9 years, 3 months ago:

If I let you hold my hand although my heart is torn

And every night hold you close enough to keep you warm

If you wake to see me hunched over and so forlorn

I just want you, my love, to remember but not to mourn

If our child wakes one day to a bed that dips on one side

Let our child fill that space with a love so pure and kind

If the walls creak because the house feels alone at night

Then give it paint and music and bathe in optimistic light

If the words cannot be thought with minds then let them flow through hands

And let the paper on the walls glisten wet with what your hearts can’t stand

Let the truth show clear though all the smudges and the smears

Hold on to each other to let go of your troubles and your fears

If I let you hold my hand although my heart is torn

And every night hold you close enough to keep you warm

Deleted User said 9 years, 3 months ago:

Same type of tree, same type of leaves

Same type of bark, same type of breeze

Your hands on my shoulder as we danced through November

My hands on your hips as we felt the warmth of embers

And if it’s all the same to you and me

I’d rather stand and sway with you than sit and freeze

And be barely tolerated, prejudiced and hated

The truth filed away, false statements reinstated

All of this to join the flow we climb up the feel the wind blow

But the best sight is on the grass below where we sway to the sound of the dawn of tomorrow

Deleted User said 9 years, 3 months ago:

A beast harboured to the ocean floor currents of blood flowing through burst veins

Cold metal on my apartment floor eyes begging to be saved

The soul the spirit can take no more it’s had enough of trying to tame

The mind a dome a fragile flower stem easily crushed and drove insane

Yet one driven can realise they are without wings and innovate and fly a plane

The power taken and used a leash on the world a rose by any other name

The sun is forever a year a sphere yet the moon in it’s coccoon takes weeks to wane

A lion without a mane dark cloud withour rain a werewolf without wolfsbane

This world is crumbling yet the passengers of this ride still hurl themselves in front of the train

Cherry blossoms bloom as the ronin moves with nothing to lose

We are our own master rip off our own plaster casts and rip the mast faster

A mad man stuck in the past like a jester yet no one’s laughing don’t let them catch you

Cause they don’t let go sinking their teeth in and like your bones are bars of a zoo

The animals here are wild and fear is the intoxicating smell that oozes from those who

Accept that bravery is yet another mask to add to the mime the man with a watch but so little time

The girl on the street yes the one who stood still for so long she can’t even feel her feet

Since her thoughts stopped roaming the ronin started to hide inside her mind and rewind her life

She’s living backwards through the strife and the sorrow living the today after the tomorrow

Feeling hollow black inscribed on her bone marrow being picked off by a sparrow

They say they go for the eyes the window to the soul is just a mirrow haven’t you realised

We are what we eat and right now we’re swallowing words and eating up lies

Stuffing our faces with placebos and dummies and decoys that play coy

And dress up like kids toys on a monday morning and broadcast more nonsense noise

Channel 1 Channel 2 Channel 3 all washing your brain and wiping your mind

Leaving all imagination behind and when they’re done have the nerve to ask if you’d like to leave a tip behind

“No I wouldn’t mind” yeah of course not you wouldn’t

Can’t can should hell no you shouldn’t try and be funny

Be serious and say nothing it’ll get you through life and it’ll get you money but the things you really want

The ones lurking around in the corners of your mind watching the intruder stalk making no sound

Yeah they’re the ones you should aim at with your crossbow not still going slow

Moping around year after year until it’s your time to go

And then oh no you’re run out of time dumbo, no time for last words and regrets this boat ain’t gonna row itself

So next time you’re sitting and wishing thinking I’m so bored I can’t even STOP

You think you’re trapped and helpless you’re not

Get up get out and and try something new for a change and help someone out somebody in pain

Cause one day that could be you thanking your stars that someone was out there to help you too…

Deleted User said 9 years, 3 months ago:

Love is the tree we used to kiss under
Love is the light of the lightning and the thunder
Love is the bang of fireworks that sent you scrambling for the dark
Love is the swings we used to swing on in the park
Love is eight fingers and two thumbs intertwined
Love is winding you up before you started to unwind
Love was the image we couldn’t get out of our minds
Love was me waiting to see you and anxiously checking the time
Love was showing up outside your house with a bag of flowers
Love was wanting to spend not minutes with you but hours
Love was going for walks and reading books and having talks
Love was not a secret that prowled and slithered and sneaked and stalked
Love was not something pure
Love was not wanting less or more
Love was something not meant to be
Love was something you could both feel and see
Love was something unexpected
Love was something that tore and wrecked and
Love was something you would know if ‘I’ was ‘We’
Love was something that made us more than just happy
Love was something that made it worthwhile
Love was something we planned on a map and we
Loved with a love that made us smile and loved with a love felt through cuddles during naps and it made us laugh from November till May as we lay on piles of human emotions nesting at the bottom of the ocean my arms wrapped around you warmed by the simple notion of that tree, old with yew leaves, bringing life and death whenever it pleased and on our knees we leaned against it as the sky wept and closed our eyes and slept dreaming as we curled and unfurled dreaming about nothing and dreaming of each other’s worlds…

Deleted User said 9 years, 3 months ago:

One step ahead, one behind lay the dead in the past, the future, a book already read, tightrope walking with a life as a line, the line a rope and the rope a vine, a vine with leaves that intertwine; other walkers walk, some hobble and some sprint, some leave footsteps, others leave footprints, they keep their heads down and bowed and are bound by the frozen fear of looking so far down…
The drop, a thud that makes no sound, echoes around the web of hearts gathered around the mound, one step, two step, three step, four, a journey or a pilgrimage maybe less maybe more…
A child sheds a tear and a bear licks it’s wounds, the man holds back his pain from the hurtful bad news, the walkers look up as the straight paths bend as the broken are fixed and the shattered begin to mend, the blind teach how to see while and mute teach how to speak and the numb teach how to feel and the hidden risk a peek, the dark brighten days and the strong help the weak and the walkers that move to push forward teach standing up to the meek, then the lines begin to thin, and pulse, and swim and the walkers stop walking as the true journey begins…
The child, forced to grow, has remained sweet in the bitter cold and in the dead of the night where she feels most alive, she exhales and jumps, her eyes open wide, absorbing the sky and the monsters it hides, she spreads her wings and if the heart does not lie, the brain tells of truths as he looks into her eyes, if he is the sky then she, the sea, is the land and they struggle to smile as he holds her limp hand but she finds the strength to help him understand that next time the sea sleeps she won’t wake up on the sand and as he takes his hand to tuck away a stray strand of her hair she whispers goodbye to the child she left there, sitting in the sand, the memory pulls at her like an old rubber band, and she speaks to him words of love and care as she cries a tear for the man who was the bear…
A year later in the book already the read as two steps in the past and future lie the dead, the child walks while the father holds his head, to see his little angel take one step ahead…

Remedy said 9 years, 3 months ago:

Writer’s Block- written around May.

My muses are no longer amusing,

the pen no longer spills red ink.

The clouds in my mind do not condense,

thus rain cannot stain the paper.

A blank slate, though cliche

is the only thing I see.

Perhaps to mean rebirth,

yet the newborn does not go blind.

The faces are stamped on each letter,

even if it is not from nor adressed to them.

Ink can be smudged, yet the one who smears it

can still read the fine print.

Remedy said 9 years, 3 months ago:

Bullseye- I wrote this back in 2013, but it’s still one of my favourites.

The worst kind of pain

is not what you experience head-on,

but what scrapes at you, indirect

hits aimed for someone else.

An arrow may hit a bullseye

after barely missing a tree.

The arrow is sadness.

It hits one person, then those connected

feel the sting. Its target,

was it the tree or the bullseye?

The tree, barely hit,

was the target. The bullseye

the main sufferer, for it can’t take

seeing friends weak.

It absorbs its own shock,

pain inflicted upon herself,

the universe srtiking down on her.

It cracks under suffering from

the people who mean the most,

who mean more to her than

her own self.

Chop her down, carve her out,

paint a single dot on her heart,

and hang her up on another tree.

She feels nothing until she’s hit

By the pain meant for the tree

Behind her.

Remedy said 9 years, 3 months ago:

Counter- written in September.

You drown in shallow breath

when the tides turn.

When the heroine becomes heroin,

when what you thought was right

writes over everything with red ink

and you cannot escape.

You hide behind the blinds

but you are the blindsided,

Run away from your pain

and trip over the pacifier.

You’ve worked so hard

for nothing to work out,

you try to fix things that

are fixed in place.

Fate is fatality,

and is something

you cannot counter.