Poets logo

Temporarily Present

Dedicated to the people at Woke Radio, and my college self

By Douglas MackliffPublished 5 years ago 37 min read
Like

Dedicated to the people at Woke Radio, and my college self

I’m sad

“This feeling of being alone won’t go away, because I don’t want it to.”

Lost

Introverted restrictiveness,

Led me to be victimless,

Every night it would grip him-less,

Causing him to forget the address.

Now I am here staring out the circular windows,

Experiencing your words of hurtful innuendoes,

Panic on the floor from my tiptoes,

Seeing you stare at what once were meadows.

At what once was love, and adoration,

Your constant devotion was your donation,

To the undeserving, and I who were stricken with fascination,

Currently beneath, and cast onto your portion of isolation.

You won’t be remembered,

As well as dismembered,

Or ever feel encumbered.

You’ll be the tragedy that once wondered.

Alone

Years have gone by ever since,

I first felt the darkness on my fingertips.

When the dissipation of light,

Was all lost in time.

Kept hidden away from me,

Til eternity.

Some would try to take me away,

While others forced the grip to tighten,

And tighten—til I became a part of it.

Then they weren’t able to see me anymore,

The memories became a bore, and tore thee,

But not in the same way that it did to me.

It turned ambiguity into obscurity,

And left me to decay in this dark purity.

Now the memories leave me to wonder,

On what could have caused this eternal hunger,

For something I once had.

Maybe one day I will break what is meant to be,

Through the unearthing of he,

Letting me converse with we,

And finally being set free,

Becoming once again a part of reality…

Maybe.

Prediction

Sitting on a couch – reading,

Reflecting in my mind – unseeing,

Children growing – just-being,

She is lonely – always-leering.

Remembering the moments that I wrote,

Of a future with a light coming from the smoke,

Dreaming of accomplishments,

And astonishments.

Changing the world,

And having them finally believing in me.

They never did,

My family had,

But I don’t care.

Ticks (middle) sad move to later

She laid across, naked in her mind,

Unknowing the barriers that were to come.

The feeling of being held, without warrant,

Arose when she was clothed by Sorrow.

Inevitable outcome, however an incorrect response,

Followed by generational cries to stay the course.

As long as its buried beneath, it can never resurface,

Only when it rains for too long, and the density breaks.

Cracks show the moment when her purity was her security,

Taken away by the negativity – of the soul’s everlasting creativity.

Who are You?

The one in the darkness,

That takes form of the objects,

Constricting my vision to You,

Terror fulfilling til blue.

Traverse my dreams with me,

And give Thy name of thee.

Not your given description,

Just your hidden superscription.

Such horror on the inside,

Remedied by self-homicide.

Releasing my words onto you,

Like an ant onto glue.

Clouds in the Mind

Thoughts consistent as the weather,

Love entraps you like ice.

Never could give back what you wanted to lend her,

Leading to strangulation by your tie.

While you continuously fed her lies,

And Slowly watched her die.

Warm

I feel warm, looking at my vein,

As if I was created to be tamed.

See it pulsating in vain,

Reminding me of my previous pain.

Lines crossing all over my body,

Feeling the darkness drift along as if godly,

Choosing the paths, and purpose of My story.

Use

You make me want to smoke a cigarette,

You make me want to fuck, and leave,

You make me want to be sick, and satisfied,

You make me want to be disgusted of myself.

Leave me again, and again, and again,

Return to me again, and again, and again,

Cry over me again, and again, and again,

Die for Me again, and again, and again.

Ooohh—he does not love you anymore,

Well I never did, so why do you return,

I am not him, and you cannot make me,

Now keep sucking my soul off more.

Naked

I laid across naked with my heart in my hand,

I stich the wounds, and in turn keep stabbing myself.

I put myself up on a wall in a canvas,

I close the door to the room, never getting hurt again.

Outside/Need

Due to my birthright,

My choices are forever affected,

From love, to sacrifices,

I will forever be limited.

Shaky

Anxious whenever I shake,

Sickness leaking through each vibration.

Peeking inside to see the same without,

Has me wonder where the sickness comes from.

The Dream does not display it through It’s illustrations,

Just symbols to piece something together that I already know.

The it – The thing has me castrated, and bound to yell,

With no sign of help, other than an unnoticeable shake.

God and Death

I could be God, but the title would die,

As soon as it is given; my ultimate imaginative power,

Condensed into unacceptance, by the others who strip,

Kill me, and force me to be reborn as something less.

Minds River – Ocean

All that is loved, comes out like a river,

Onto my eyes, bewildered by my thoughts,

Though in a trans at the time, always at a loss,

Givers feelings flow – quiver, and shiver.

Do you know when things end? and,

You keep going back to it, even though it might be wrong?

Who really knows, not any of us, it is not to belong,

Shunned by ourselves, and always stunned.

Suffocation

Twenty-One is too young for fun,

Wait til forty for the rising sun.

By then you won’t care much,

For people, and such,

Love will have to go,

Soul will never show,

Lose your set Flow,

For polished tone.

No more,

No more.

Hello,

Gone,

Am,

I?

Those Days

One of them that feels so low,

Above ground, though feeling the coffin.

Eyes dragging me along through the voices,

Of lost information, brought upon still lips.

Pondering ‘why now’; why to ponder on the now,

When it’s always there, I am just not.

So who ponders?

On those days when the high comes down,

When I was replaced, and left to scream below.

Death courses through unfamiliar yet familiar face,

Of a life before my own, to look upon with no opinion.

Yet I ponder, and continue to ponder on my death,

Never to get an answer, just a replacement,

To ponder just as I had.

Train wreck

Would it take my death,

For my love to finally notice me?

Her thoughts coursing around the memories,

Of us stumbling around the concrete of the jungle.

If it were a different time,

With thoughts crippled, and beside us,

Born anew, to see each other for what we primitively are,

Not for the malicious deeds that spun us into frail beings.

Will my poetry ever stop revolving,

Around the time that I pulled apart my soul,

And blamed you for the world that I created,

In order to hate you for taking a part of my creation?

Won’t you stop this process,

Which I constantly innerly quake, and break,

My core-being; my ridiculous dreams every day,

Til I am pieces on the concrete, that you discarded long ago.

Without Religion

Grew up in Jesus’ glory,

Never feeling worthy to uphold the light.

Told of his actions in every story,

Had me take on the role of a sacrificial knight.

Changing history, yet to be a contained race,

From man’s inability to make their own decisions,

Leave it up to gods without white armor, just a white face,

And the worthy become corrupted –

While the Worthy live in terrible conditions.

The country consumes the corruption, yet ignores the boil,

Which yells to be spread out more, and more – without remorse.

They become the Most Wanted, digging up their soil,

Remaining to be unearthed before death, and hugged by it.

Cold

The wind will one day not blow,

Snow will cease the grass to grow.

Trees will disconnect, and give vertigo,

To all of the living, and the last remaining embryo.

Thoughts, and prayers all gone,

Lullabies, and Mothers foregone,

Crushes, roses cherry bombed,

And that one blonde who didn’t respond.

Divine, and Evil will conclude their existence,

Human knowledge won’t hold onto its consistence,

Reality, and the soul will fight for subsistence,

Because of the one thought that wouldn’t let you go.

However, they all watch, and wait for assistance in the distance.

If you only knew yourself

Tied to lies that shine when the spotlight hits,

Your precious comments, common to the Snakes,

That slither around you; scissure swallowing you whole,

Deceived by the light, believed to look like salvation,

As you descend alone, seeing death as the only godsend.

They tongue you along, through mouths that go on,

About your graceful movement, manipulated moment,

Cascading across eternity; the Perversity thirstily pleading,

For the focus to stay on the roses, and not the broken.

You despise the abusers, though disguise your actions,

Of recurring inaction, that the compaction outweighs,

The excuses from how the mirror seduces the bruises,

Leaving a mark on the good ones, seeing you on the reruns,

When you devoured the once-flowered coward entirely.

Time Forgives

You take me away from my ugly self,

Protect my beauty for it can shine again.

Do not ever let me down Love,

Or I will not forgive you as easily.

Never was We a fair affair,

Which you knew after I first used You.

Taking joy in the instilled role,

Just because I fascinated You.

By undermining you, using you,

Shows how time forgives all.

Ones that give her purpose,

And the ones that utilize his power.

Now take me away from this pain,

As if I ever need your pulsation.

Others can provide the same pleasure,

Without your required patience.

I am a piece of shit, I guess

There are two ways,

To the street of decision,

Going in, and leaving,

Receiving, and giving,

So don’t blame me,

For your inevitable collision,

Blame yourself for slipping,

Which you will do anyway.

I’m sorry.

My Life

Sitting a top of my grandfather’s shoulder,

Sitting on a red-dull lined floor during his funeral.

Hugging my Father after a long day,

Saying goodbye to him on our families last day.

Waking up to my Mom cuddling with me on the mattress,

Waking up to seeing her and Grandma drunk in separate rooms.

Crying under a desk, because my best-friend is leaving,

Hearing his jealousy, opening the door to him leaving.

Having a life full of adventures from the minds of others,

Having to leave mine alone in order to cage my loneliness.

Reconnecting with my old best-friend, and finding a family,

Seeing the foundations crumble, due to not being their family.

Saying ‘I love you’ to the first girl that took me away from myself,

Saying ‘I’ll always love you’ without ever getting a response.

Meeting someone who gave a whole definition to my life,

Becoming the option that wished to be an option in her life.

Discovering myself in a desolate place full with hope, and faith,

Discovering how sad my life has been, when it does not need to be.

I’m Somewhere Else

“Born in a generation as a writer with no readers.”

Questions that Lead nowhere

Fighting in a revolution, inside the trenches of knowledge,

Combating the incorrect, against the supposed Correct.

Finishing an extermination, brought upon other beliefs,

Returning to my safe home, never truly escaping those spirally trenches.

I was led along the way, to give up a part of Me,

I gave in for I could fit, as a piece of Their puzzle.

I one day looked onto, us all snuggled up with each other – however,

I had been pushed, and distorted til I could not fit anymore.

Now I am in the middle, riddled by the surrounding Questioners,

Bound to this castration, Isolation becoming the piece that fits in me.

Wowed by the beauty, duty to always have an attractive pull on all of us,

Endowed to its positivity, negativity consuming the sense of Liberty.

Red Button

There is a red button, shining under a light in the middle of a room,

With a dark figure camouflaged in another world that does not feel so gloom.

Approaching the tempter object forces you to proceed,

On a path that will flow the body with bleed indeed.

The figure cannot move, so he cannot stop you,

But the unknown perspective strangles the living til blue,

And the dead forever remembers the figure, and red button in that room hitherto.

Strange

Creaky wooden lodge planks flip on the ground,

Wind coursing through the clothes, and wedding gown.

Doors pushing against the pressure of the outside,

Bedroom illuminating the lie that happened, before the why.

Shadows move throughout the house, into the basement,

Knowledge kept away, borrowed under the secured cement,

She cries out for release from the shadows that lurk in the darkness,

He fastens the lock, places the suit away, and self-explores.

Years Passed By

My refusal to write as much,

Brought by the passage of my Youth.

Once innocent, and dumb Douglas,

Left his intelligence behind, to travel,

- back in time.

Now the Right of damnation returns,

Where intelligence no longer helps, nor hurts.

It just sits back, and watches,

Waiting to return to prominence, but only,

- if I could go, back in time.

Tapping

Rhythm booming,

From the pens bopping,

Hovering desks sliding,

Feet slamming, and damaging,

Nails scratching, and latching,

Clothing shifting, and drifting,

Breath looming, and perfuming,

Thoughts clouding, and profounding,

Eyes always looking,

Electricity constantly empowering,

Vessels on the sea flowing,

Bones tightening, and gripping,

Soul evolving, and crushing,

Death reviving, and enlightening the living.

U

I supply the love, you become heartbroken,

I supply your drugs, you become a drug toker.

Never my fault, when you build a wall of smoke,

Regardless if the drugs are not there, or if you toke.

You supply only the supplier with inevitable distance,

Redirecting inward feelings with a hand out – stretching resistance,

On all corners of the world, thinking that will form nonexistence,

But it only forms an inescapable timeless-existence.

Neurosis

My mind yearns for misunderstanding,

Always seeking the unknown – if it even exists.

Existing in the void unable to see Anything,

I am not supposed to be here.

I am Anything for everyone,

Though they refuse to go into the dark.

You can’t only exist in the light, shining all under it,

Binding them from even contemplating about something outside of themselves.

Anger and Sexuality

The latter is to sell you on this,

Because you would not care without it.

Sexuality can be expressed, but Anger repressed,

As if they aren’t the same side of the coin,

You just won’t let it lay down, and show you the unity.

Let the anger flow within the self-ravaged body,

And exist only when conquering others, and yourself.

Nocturnal Life

Seeing life through sleepy eyes,

Thoughts perversed through a hazy mind.

Dreams become irretrievable to me,

Leading to conformity being seeable to me.

Mind Other –

I fall from the top of the mountain,

Onto a field of outstretched hands,

Guiding my body towards a hole as they join in,

Along the descent to our eternal nocturnal lives.

Son Other –

You had dreams too Father,

These verses are enough proof of them.

Tell me of your favorite before I bother,

Mother—to retriever her past Dreams condemn.

Me Now –

Influences go past the body-less soul,

Waiting to take hold of a mindless vessel.

To never allow cracks to take away from him,

A picturesque that wants the lake to drown him.

Illusion

Outside of these red walls,

Comes a white light,

That blinds me for an eternity.

Sensations prickle my shell,

Information of the unknown,

Becomes instantly something.

Registered within me,

In a place I have never understood,

But never questioned before.

Fear is a new friend,

That helps me survive,

These sights that pierce through lights.

I provide darkness, and am able to take it away,

It has images appear each time I leave it,

Making my first companion be a piece to this new place.

Being lifted above the restrictions,

Placed when I could not move,

Terrifies me more than the red walls.

Would I always stay in them?,

I wondered as I felt comfortable,

Til the light parted the illusion.

Waste

The land radiates black smog,

From the decisions of my ancestors.

Thoughts left unburned, and unchurned,

Filling history before me with greed,

Eliminating the path that was once taken to succeed. I walk along the past, present, and the future—til I see Fred. He say’s, “Anythin’ new along the shoe-shine Shoe?” The store illuminates as a golden circle appears amongst the mist, Crumbling along, once Fred hits the tires that were placed oddly. “Not that one,” Fred says, and takes out a handkerchief to clean my feet, Before I soil a monument from the past – with my demeanor of lower class, With a bronze brass coiled around my o’le lass – undone fast by the royal clad. The soldiers yell, “WELCOME TO THE SHOE-SHINE SHOE, WHERE ALL IS NEW, FLEW FROM WATERLOO – DIRECTLY, FOR YOU” how long they knew their presence was doom, was far long to assume. Fred and I walked along the clear white clouds, to the shoes, Of the most note-worthy humans that led to our re-occurring dreary afternoon. My disposition seems to stick regardless of the getting, showered with glittery affliction, Seeing how it is to live as them, with distractions trying to take away the depression. Fred went to the brightest portion of the store, leading me to never see him again, Quickly uncaring, though knowing that I was to lose my life-long friend. I stumble across a room – comparatively to the one my personality looms, “Hello” the shadow bellows, “well-owed to a mellow-being never reaching heights of Othello.”

Society

Affection, and Love are two different things,

One is a distraction, while the other one sprouts Wings,

Causing us to soar to the clouds, and view the others from above,

As if this is the true purpose of the dove.

However, the grey appears, and we are back on the streets,

Two lonely pigeons pecking at whatever interests there be.

We don’t know one another, as we did in the sheets,

Since that was another life of you, and me.

Fast forward to our six-hundred, and fifteenth life,

Everything is perfect, and god is in the mirrors,

To look at the faces, of what once were sinners.

But why are we forgiven, if we made every thought rife?

Isn’t that why we are here in the first place?,

To gawk at the most popular, and segregate the lesser race?,

And have sex, only to get a little taste?,

Just for we can feel better knowing that we are truly waste?

-

Damn my rife thoughts for leading me here,

To a home in which we both knew as the pier,

Not soaring anymore, just drifting along the ocean,

Realizing that we are only as significant as a loves notion.

Ongoing Thoughts

Purpose

These thoughts make my mind spin,

On the idea, of what my purpose is.

Not the societal one, but the one,

That will make me feel complete at fin.

Maybe helping others could quell my thoughts,

But what good is finding distractions that prolong the inevitable.

Knowing that whatever I accomplish, I will be disappointed,

Because I know that I can’t fix the world, in turn making me miserable.

Even if it is only for that one, second-ly,

That will be my legacy.

The person who left the world delicately,

Without trace, only evidence is the pregnancy.

The thoughts impregnated into the reader’s mind,

Of what purpose truly means.

Emotion

You could say that emotions are grey,

The grey side of the brain, that has its own name,

And has its own barbaric way, but is as harmful as a Frey.

Funny how relieving the pain,

Doesn’t make the rain go away.

It plants a seed on the grey side,

To never grow, but also to stay.

For the person can tend to it,

And water it, another day.

Obsession

The first time I saw you,

It was plain, and regular.

But then the thoughts crept in,

And it feels like, you are intercellular.

Invading every single part of thee,

Not as a virus, even though you are, a dweller.

However, I let you be,

Because you are a part of me.

Who I am

This isn’t a question, only a statement,

Since we never truly discover who we are.

Sure, there may be things here, and there,

But the wanderer never truly knows their placement.

Others will always falsify, and act as if they are the claimant,

Because they are wanderers too, however the unmoving kind,

Since they forever lay vacant on the pavement.

The whole point is to enlighten the idea,

That you are beautiful, and don’t let anyone else ruin you, dear.

Even though you may never know, Who I am,

At least you can carry on being free of fear.

Scares from the Deep

No resolution, due to pollution,

Scarecrows stare at the fellows,

Dressed in white in order to fright,

For the feast of the inner beast.

Shame never dissipates due to claim,

Pumpkins grin at the kin’s,

Subjected to always be collected,

One day committing an atrocity at the bay.

No more due’s, to the remaining few,

Evil seeds cause the generations to bleed,

Forced monogamy dooms the offspring’s,

Til the savior breaks away from the common behavior.

Operation

I am led to be Desensitized,

By the ignorance of this generation.

Pigmentation forever scarred by laceration,

Written in books as finalized; but never forgotten.

Even though we all want to,

And they want us to forget,

Blacks, Jews, Asians, Whites, Latinos, and Gentiles,

Forget all that was set, beget, and lament,

On the future of the Robotic utopia.

Stripped of history in order to support,

Thousands standing over the trillions of human corpses,

Viewing the past from bright reflective glasses,

Of retorts, shorts of the demented courts,

Eyes that judged the nation,

Til their needs became wants,

And there was no disparity between the two,

Regurgitated outward, and chewed, spewed, and consumed,

By the human being’s evolution, and extinction.

Procrastinate

All poems take me a long time to write,

Since I don’t know how to procrastinate.

Looking at the black on my neck from a bite,

Ignoring me, while I elaborate.

But her dress was just so white,

And it would constantly agitate the – inner—me.

Swastikas are not what they’re meant to be,

Mistaken forever as the once great energy.

Lost in time, confused in rhyme,

The aforementioned entity,

Is gone, and will never be; there with thee.

Only a hollow husk, who promised us,

Devoured; thus, proclaiming trust,

In all we love, and all we lust,

Clearing the dust,

Removing the rust,

In order to see something new.

Penmanship

I write to you in the middle of a ship,

With an inked pen, with a curvature tip.

Sinking down into my eternal burial,

Euphoria flooding my mind, and my skill in editorial.

I write to you in the middle of a classroom,

With a mechanical pen, with a light inked bloom.

Falling down into my identities departure,

Euphoria leaving my mind, and my connection with my soul.

Neutral

This isn’t happiness in Minneapolis,

Forced out craftily off the balcony.

Watching the sky while I die,

Replaying the memory how it is meant to be.

You were never jazzy in Tallahassee,

Sipping wine, and refusing the divine.

Lights flickering, constant snickering,

Slowly walking, while our eyes were interlocking.

The idea of Utopia erases my euphoria,

Since perfection is tainted by deception.

Taken by the hand with a wedding band,

Led to dishonesty always being a part of me.

Heaven strikes the number before seven,

From my breath escapes, “what a death”.

Seeing through the discernment, being released from my internment,

Loathing the recollections, but only for a second-less.

My Livelihood

I imagine dying before accomplishing the breakage of my potential,

Solely focusing on mostly the Bye’s and not the Why’s.

Thoughts that had prominent footprints are brushed away,

While You tear away every bit of proof of my existence.

Notes dictating my path, left completely obscured,

Memories fall apart, Photos distort the Inhabitant.

So much is missed in the instances till the Instant,

Shoulders rise out of the Life-Giver, to continue the inevitable struggle.

Will I fail again?, Towards the summit that descends with no reply,

Til the arrival of a Soul removed of the tombs that needed the answer.

That is when the Silent Voice speaks the loudest,

And I descend along with You, till We speak to one another.

Is it?

Fluorescent lights clouding your body,

Darkness swallowing up the road.

Alaskan nights pierce the gold,

Muskan rats stare above at the new world.

Knights dance, and fight on the glass lens,

Dancers twirl along to the sound of psychological anguish.

Forever stuck in the pattern of predictable truths,

Careers bouncing off the path, to pursue you,

Throne filled with dust to the brim of the people’s end,

Lining up on the edge of the world, rewinding the tape,

To make history come up with repetitive cycles of destruction again.

I’m in love

“The more I love someone, the more I feel the need to let them go.”

Let’s talk about

Let’s talk about you,

The mirror image of the girl in my mind,

Has me completely misunderstanding the person in front of me.

Your physical, and mental limitations,

Are not bound to your existence,

They live within, and stretch around the Round Wall.

Broken through death, to be re-used,

Institutionalizing the hung bodies for soul absorption,

Warping my perception of the person in front of me – who is we.

Kind

Why are you so kind,

And fine, and hard to find?

You make my heart,

Skip a beat all over the chart.

Love lost

Writing down those feelings now,

Will hold the strongest conviction.

Loving someone else will breakdown,

My memories of incorrect decisions.

Butterflies were first seen on your shoulder,

As well as in the deepest part of my stomach.

Never-lie with these feelings, oh so warmer,

Then this garbage that I had unnecessarily rummaged.

Goosebumps prickle my mind from the repressed time,

When the colors in the park were gray in comparison to you.

I feel so stupid not being able to forget what could have been,

To the point where my writing is simplistic, and non-rhythmic,

Holding my head up, hoping someone would notice…mainly you.

Here

Touching distance,

Minds malignant,

Truth assisted,

By curtains withdrawal.

Do you see,

Me for thee,

Happily glee,

Or do you see him in We.

Fear of eyes, and mind,

Of kisses, and lies,

To live, and die,

With the experiences that lie, and lie,

In our imaginations time.

If only that was reality,

Free of fear, time, and death,

That keeps us apart-centralizing,

Around what we want our lives timelines to be.

Your shadow walks away,

Across the room, out the door,

Splitting my head over the real one, and my ideal version,

Hoping that you turn around, and smile beyond me,

To your forever more.

Thoughts

I do not change enough in a day’s passage,

To warrant new ideas, just revised old ones.

Time binds my worries into a single disadvantage,

That holds me at night to a song of psalms.

I know of the other time, and side,

Where they coexist without drowning each other.

Accepting the faults til I died,

Continuing the beauty you provide to another.

I am gone from the isolated desert,

To a land where I do not exist.

Much more alone than before my birth,

However, forever with you betwixt.

Whispering Lilies

Breezy green,

Yellow lilies.

Easy kisses,

Embracing warmly.

Soft voices,

Tracing-fingers.

Rosy cheeks,

Alluring scent.

Memories forming,

Eternally here.

Caresses repeat,

Slowly Darling.

Low

O-Slow,

Light Snow,

Fall low,

O-no.

You fell – way down,

Buried beneath the ground,

Erasing your sound,

Grounded, and forever bound.

Till — the sun,

Rises you up above,

Slowly, but surely,

With-Love.

Music

Melody, Rhythm, and Beats make up the world,

Constantly moving, and impacting one another,

Tossed into the universe, and feeling whirled,

And finding a way to get along with each other.

We all wonder when our composition will end,

Or when the next single will kiss us again.

Conditional

Will I trick you to love,

One that could specialize in non-trickery?

Would he ever realize,

That you are not his image of a woman?

The one that was instilled by multiple heartbreaks,

From the other ones that fell in love with the initial treachery.

Allow me to remove my foot from your door,

For I can approach you in the way you will want me to.

Do not force me to stay in this spectrum of paralysis,

Not knowing if I can, will, would, or could conform to you.

Another

You are very different,

Kind of specific,

I cannot tell the difference,

But you are terrific.

Do not count on my perception,

Because I am kind of blind.

Blinded by the beauty of deception,

Due to the Limitation of the line.

The unspoken words are the loudest,

They create a being, which is kind of childish.

Now all of your words are coming off soundless,

Just another person trying to sound adultish.

Tuesday Afternoon

Shakes forcing my veins to pulsate,

Louder, and faster; through the walls populate.

Fingers gripping the bed tightly,

To the sound of ‘I love you’ said lightly.

Panties thrown, shirts reworn,

Scarlet marks where the skin is torn.

Bus cards on the floor tells the lore,

On how my friend had sex with a whore,

And why the music left from the door.

Love/Fuck

Dandelion curvatures,

Twirl around my signatures,

Bound to my decisions,

Without any of your revisions.

Look into my soul,

To see an everlasting hole,

Taken by the connection,

By the girl deep down inside my recollection.

I wait for you to leave,

For I can go back, and believe,

That I will one day see,

Me, and her be.

My Baby

I think of you now, of all you will become,

Better than me, but not just because of me,

It is all going to be because of you, You,

Make me so proud, even now Baby.

Tears fill me all over, fulfilled by purpose,

Of one I gave myself, the most important one,

To create, and relish in the most beautiful one,

Which I always pondered on why I was not the one.

Not now, not anymore, never more, will I,

Put you in that place Baby, even if I mess up,

You will Always be my love, who breaks me apart,

Puts me back together, and continues to break me.

That – will break you in different ways, but You,

Will understand when you are Me, to another You,

And all of what you were, becomes a were; nevermore,

To plague us, only your futures future, and more so after.

Lost from Love

Requiring a sight to behold my affection,

That many have pulled the curtain over.

Constant searching even when I am transfixed,

Makes me feel lost, even when I find her.

Just Smile

Don’t take away what they love,

Because what they adore, you proclaim,

Leave the Inhibition outside,

And go back home, and just smile.

Something Special

This weekend things will change in a way,

Between you and I no longer being in the grey.

Feelings will be expressed and the impress will commence.

Telling me whether your heart is as intense.

Telling me whether your mind is stuck in all of this ridiculousness.

And telling me whether your soul can feel the connection – less,

You deny it; then I cannot blame,

Since it might all be in the brain of the authors name.

However, your wonderfully big eyes, nice smile, adorable laugh,

And expressive personality, burps, hilarious stories about your other halves,

And unseen dance moves, rap lyrics, and billyness,

Forces me to admire the one in front of me, in all of her delightfulness.

Okay so now that all of that gay stuff has been said,

And the feeling of dread has fled from my head.

Just know that all I really wanted to say,

Was that you are Something Special, in every kind of humanly way.

[I was going to show her this.]

I’m hopeful

“Your heart knows all of the words, so go by it.”

The Life I Never Lived

Sorrow was always prevalent,

Ever to feel benevolent.

Regardless of the life I lived,

The other one would still be not so excellent.

However, to be able to not ruin my first loves life,

Impact the implanters choice of wife,

Feel my crushes heart with my hand,

The last one did not happen, only in the luminous land,

But it would be better to leave this reality,

To discard the heavy weight of my choices in totality.

The imagination is enticing though,

Creating a world from everything I know.

Purpose

I always wanted to acquire the knowledge,

To learn of the moment my purpose is born.

When enlightenment courses through my body,

And I forever know the future.

Forest

Trees grow old,

Bodies under the told,

Apples ripening from the cold,

Birds singing forevermore.

Leaves shade from the night,

Roots strangle the soil for right,

Worms digging underneath, covering from the light,

To live nevermore.

I did not like you X

We were separated by time, and experiences,

Since I never gave you a moment to speak,

And were divided by our given structure.

You, the fake deep that was projected onto the masses,

While planning a reveal of someone that I could look into the mirror,

See myself, and finally listen to your words of inspiration,

Because those same words inspired me long ago,

And I wanted to rediscover them in someone else.

I got them, but it was too late at that point for praise,

Just sadness, and longing for someone that I never thought I would miss,

Through death, it showed me losing myself again, and I am frightened,

Because I became alone all over again.

However—many were Not when you were around,

They laughed, and appreciated your kind, and also loathsome words,

And I do the same now, looking at the soul that once was,

But now you are Gone, and your influence will falter.

If you could read this, I would just want you to know,

That you led me to miss someone I did not know,

Nor someone that I ever thought I could like.

Sacrifice

The little Pure soul held in your arms,

Laid in a room filled with fear from abandonment.

How he knew that you were special to him,

Though reminded of that room when he was alone.

He loathed for the protection that you gave,

While the first embrace being lost worried you.

Funnily you two worried about the same thing, just differently,

And only grew stronger the more he benefitted, while you sacrificed.

Cascaded thoughts, bounced around your room,

From the walls to actions, all revolving around him.

All of it led to his actions revolving around retribution,

To sacrifice, worry, and do right for others, for the sake of your loss.

History

Curved, and Cracked nails, due to the digging,

Of a past that exists in a lucid plane,

That the minds cogs rule over, and do the rigging.

Constant intervention being brought up by Myself,

The one that observes, and falsifies my luscious past,

To guide me to glory, instead of pandering to Times downcast.

Does paving this road for you, help the past line up clearer?,

Slithering along the overcast range towards your Heart’s desire,

Preparing a text that will read out,

‘how you were the world’s greatest Purifier.’

I will take the blame for your actions onto others,

Justifying a horrid picture, due to the internal sickness,

Mold that formed along the edges, capsizing the lovers,

Showing what truly was left behind — unending grimness.

Philosophizing My Love for Myself

I want to be good,

but not for the reason that you want me to be good for,

Lowering my potential, since it gives me the sense of it,

but not the unlimited amount I could possibly achieve.

Possibly – only to the fact of Facts of us,

bounded by our knowledge, to never grow beyond,

Just stay planted like a plant, without the expansion,

just a colorful face.

One that never speaks, not breathing life onto the future of Us,

through love, and shared experiences,

only when judging with those circles,

missing the life that would bring more life.

Future/My

Grow up some more; go have some kids,

Even though most of us need help getting off the grid.

To work, and do what you love for thirty years,

So you can have the free time to drink some beers; for four-hundred cheers,

And then pass away, bringing tears to all you hold dear.

Why is that the only path that I am allowed to follow?,

I would rather be a model that all of the role-models could borrow,

Be a beacon for anybody that ever feels weakened,

Beaten, cheapened, and remove that horrible feeling of feeling mistreated.

Remembered as the greatest, not only a famous lamest,

Or a faintest safest; I want everyone to strive as the bravest basis.

My future is not my destination, but my personal vocation,

Because tomorrow is not given, it is taken by breaking through the limitation.

Infection

Infected open wounds,

Lay out the inner fumes.

The world sees the personality,

Of what is built from falsity.

It infects the mind,

Which was meant to break from design,

Become alive, and create a chime,

That would last a lifetime, and the influence the next of our kind.

Below the drain

My greatest influencer looks toward the world with unease,

Shrouding the once pouncing, and dedicated spirit,

With a future disease that it became acquainted with after failure,

Produced by Others that concoct dispirit for the helpers.

You now leave your creation in a state of intermediate,

With being finished, but lacking the foundation,

Remediate what was finished, and displayed,

Before your donation crumbles beneath the Destroyers.

Frenzy

Life goes by fast, even though we feel it only in passing,

Asked to be last, to avoid outclassing the taxing,

Pain from the past, loving the fastened feel of thrashing.

Answers contrast, the packages grasp on laughing,

At the souls downcast, passionate for external slashing,

Blood amassed, by the internal wounds forever lashing.

At long last, thoughts cascading, and harassing,

The strangers rebroadcast, of the odd person surpassing,

The unsurpassed, and building a generation of always trespassing.

Comfortable

I want to look at knowledgeable information,

And not allow it to shape, and change me.

Just for the Moment, or two,

For life can be fully appreciated, not a chore.

Lore skipped, for the mindscape to exist,

Leaves fall, without information overclouding the action,

But a fraction could cause a reaction, and explosion,

Of erosion to what was once there – happening.

That moment was my entire life gone in a flash,

Replacing each occurrence with the passage of time,

And leaving a trail of death, that leads to death.

Writing my thoughts has taken me out of my comfortability,

That is why I was hesitant to write to begin with,

Such irritability clouding my comfortable stability,

Leading to a cycle of comfortability to frailty.

Scared to ever go back to this state,

One that focused so much on the moment,

Not on the mark that I want to leave on this slate,

Only on the lonely plank a top of the ground filled with cement.

Pink diverting from Red

I have not felt alive for a while,

The things I know make me feel so limited.

Things do not matter, the self is a constant unknown being,

Love is a selfish feeling, and I was born without a purpose.

Reality in all of its abundance feels like a grain of sand,

In the overall flow of existence, and nonexistence,

Shows you how much existence matters; or how much I do.

But enough with the pessimism, and the go-go optimism,

I want something different, not the same old overused ligament.

Be able to let me go, instead of keeping me along for the reality show,

Every grain still takes up space, like our mole placed on the universes face.

Lonely in New Jersey

Grew up on many empty streets,

I also had many friends.

They took me away from my issues,

Which I took for granted.

Love from my parents was usually enough,

But not enough for my Dad.

I got the loneliness from him,

Passed down from father to Father,

And I am sorry.

Hopefully it goes away one day,

I would not want to be the same,

To my future kids.

You could say my Mother is the light,

Not to be contrasted with dark,

Just a miracle that held me,

Every time I felt lonely.

I was once Blind

Fear alludes to the time

When sight goes along the line,

Remembrance of a sign across the street,

Told to proceed, empowering my heart-to-beat.

But I stood there in the highest point of land,

Doing nothing with my power, held by a frail hand.

That Frailty spread along the veins, giving a new name,

To the sign that once gave hope, to a still flame.

Normal

Everything is normal, nothing go—going tO crazy,

I am sorry, it was too, but I am remaining—remained,

For I don’t ruin this again—I am telling you that I won’t,

You can’t leave either way; you’re are always

here—even when you are not.

But you don’t hear me… Do you? I thought back then you did,

By the way you looked at me—but

that was my own reflection wasn’t it?

That is why I was over the top ha-ha-ha-ha,

thank god you cannot hear me,

But if you did, I am sorry about talking to you,

when you didn’t want to,

I am sorry for creating the scenarios

in which we were together, holding hands,

Kissing, and loving—but never fucking

because you were too perfect.

That was my fault—not yours,

so don’t feel bad anymore—I—I promise I am fine,

Can’t you see it? See me like you saw me before?

Oh no that was my reflection,

I almost forgot—shit,

maybe things aren’t remained, and they are where they were,

On the verge of breaking me—or

maybe breaking me even further, And I fear that I am losing,

What,

I uhm—what I was able to always do—which was keep my role.

My role was what

, Organized all into cohesiveness

—and had me respect you—in the way you wanted,

The way you always wanted, and the way that I always wanted to too! I am sorry that this,

Is so confusing—nonrhyming, and just so confusing.

I swear that I am good at this! But,

I keep trying so hard to impress you.

WHY—why

do I always try to impress you?

I won’t ever learn Baby?

I mean—where are we?

We are back here aren’t we?

Maybe things are not normal…

But I don’t care,

just leave me here and let me be happy.

Confused

I keep trying to come up with something to write,

But all of the words that I know can’t describe how I feel.

They can’t connect an anchored rock, with my possible future,

Or a used, and abused fallen leaf, with my previous mistreatments.

None of it helps.

The next best thing to do is just to write from my heart,

The scared, and confused one that doesn’t know what it wants to be anymore.

The heart doesn’t know if compromising will lead to no further pain,

But carrying on, and being; has only caused more.

This is my confusion.

Even though most would think that I would eventually find an answer to this dilemma,

They would surely at one point figure out that there isn’t one.

Since they found an answer that only satisfied them for the meantime,

And came back to the same place that I am in right now.

Sadly, I can’t help you.

Honestly this confusion will always be a part of all of us,

What may seem one day to be right, will one day be wrong, and the reversal for the impossible.

So even though we will forever be confused; til we die,

Just let the world guide you, and stop trying to figure it out.

I’m sorry, that’s it.

art
Like

About the Creator

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.