Drained
A minor virus attacking all my glands and my body freaking out and fighting back with drainage and inflammation
Mind body connection
It's at these times you realize how closely the mind and body can be linked
Relying on pills
But having trouble visualizing the reason to take them when motivation has waned
Watching bad movies on Netflix
Silently yelling at the screen, "That's not how an artificial intelligence would act!"
Struggling to see the reason
Finally deciding you just have to step outside into the blinding and dazzling sunset just to try to reset your mind.
Trying to pull yourself up by your bootstaps
The archaic source of the computer term "reboot."
Hoping
A minor virus attacking all my glands and my body freaking out and fighting back with drainage and inflammation
Mind body connection
It's at these times you realize how closely the mind and body can be linked
Relying on pills
But having trouble visualizing the reason to take them when motivation has waned
Watching bad movies on Netflix
Silently yelling at the screen, "That's not how an artificial intelligence would act!"
Struggling to see the reason
Finally deciding you just have to step outside into the blinding and dazzling sunset just to try to reset your mind.
Trying to pull yourself up by your bootstaps
The archaic source of the computer term "reboot."
Hoping
This one's not exactly a poem, it's more of a, uh...life advice type thing. But I felt the need to put it out here, so...yeah.
Take each day as it is. I keep hearing people say that we should "live every day as if it's your last," But I really don't think we should.
If we do, we start moving too fast. We miss the things that can show us what we really need to look at. We lose sight of what's truly important. As I said before, I think we should take each day as it is. Don't rush headlong into life, chasing what's just beyond your reach, and ignoring what you already have. Live every moment, not like it's your last, but for the sole purpose of enjoying that moment. Focus on what you have, not on what you've lost. Even if that proves to be hard at times.
Take each day as it is. I keep hearing people say that we should "live every day as if it's your last," But I really don't think we should.
If we do, we start moving too fast. We miss the things that can show us what we really need to look at. We lose sight of what's truly important. As I said before, I think we should take each day as it is. Don't rush headlong into life, chasing what's just beyond your reach, and ignoring what you already have. Live every moment, not like it's your last, but for the sole purpose of enjoying that moment. Focus on what you have, not on what you've lost. Even if that proves to be hard at times.
Zoe_Ana wrote:
This one's not exactly a poem, it's more of a, uh...life advice type thing. But I felt the need to put it out here, so...yeah.
Take each day as it is. I keep hearing people say that we should "live every day as if it's your last," But I really don't think we should.
If we do, we start moving too fast. We miss the things that can show us what we really need to look at. We lose sight of what's truly important. As I said before, I think we should take each day as it is. Don't rush headlong into life, chasing what's just beyond your reach, and ignoring what you already have. Live every moment, not like it's your last, but for the sole purpose of enjoying that moment. Focus on what you have, not on what you've lost. Even if that proves to be hard at times.
Take each day as it is. I keep hearing people say that we should "live every day as if it's your last," But I really don't think we should.
If we do, we start moving too fast. We miss the things that can show us what we really need to look at. We lose sight of what's truly important. As I said before, I think we should take each day as it is. Don't rush headlong into life, chasing what's just beyond your reach, and ignoring what you already have. Live every moment, not like it's your last, but for the sole purpose of enjoying that moment. Focus on what you have, not on what you've lost. Even if that proves to be hard at times.
I think that's really good advice, Zoe
Useful blank spots beckon me
Waiting to be filled
Borders give the meaning to a word, a line, a page
Yesterday, I wanted to talk
But when today came I just wanted to walk
I should never say, "I'll call you tomorrow,"
'Cause I don't know my mindset for tomorrow
By 5 I'll call, now it's 5:05.
The time slips past, I let it go.
I feel relief as the deadline passes.
Now I can't call, it's too late now
I push against borders,
The borders of time, the borders of certainty, the borders of routine.
It gives me just gives enough tension to slingshot myself forward, into the following moment.
Waiting to be filled
Borders give the meaning to a word, a line, a page
Yesterday, I wanted to talk
But when today came I just wanted to walk
I should never say, "I'll call you tomorrow,"
'Cause I don't know my mindset for tomorrow
By 5 I'll call, now it's 5:05.
The time slips past, I let it go.
I feel relief as the deadline passes.
Now I can't call, it's too late now
I push against borders,
The borders of time, the borders of certainty, the borders of routine.
It gives me just gives enough tension to slingshot myself forward, into the following moment.
https://allpoetry.com/Dóiteáin
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Diminishing Returns (tw for content. Dark content. :( )
Death by a thousand cuts.
Every little pressure.
Never quite meeting anyone's standards.
Doing all the things required, but doing them all badly.
Anger turned inward, the most dangerous kind.
Anger at everyone's lack of consistency.
This is a box, a box you put energy into and, in response, get a little less energy back.
It's like gambling, when you spend $20 on lotto tickets and only win back $18.
And then you get excited, because you think you've won something, but really they're taking from you.
And you do it over and over again, because you feel like you're winning, but it's deceptive, it's a lie, it's a trick.
You're slowly being bled dry.
It's an energy sinkhole. That's what it is. And you'll follow the arrow down into the abyss, thinking that you're chasing a light.
Like sea creatures that use bioluminescence to hunt their pray, it draws people to what they think is the light, and before they realize it, it tries to eat them. That's the evil that this is.
Diminishing returns.
Being eaten alive.
Death by a thousand cuts.
Every little pressure.
Never quite meeting anyone's standards.
Doing all the things required, but doing them all badly.
Anger turned inward, the most dangerous kind.
Anger at everyone's lack of consistency.
This is a box, a box you put energy into and, in response, get a little less energy back.
It's like gambling, when you spend $20 on lotto tickets and only win back $18.
And then you get excited, because you think you've won something, but really they're taking from you.
And you do it over and over again, because you feel like you're winning, but it's deceptive, it's a lie, it's a trick.
You're slowly being bled dry.
It's an energy sinkhole. That's what it is. And you'll follow the arrow down into the abyss, thinking that you're chasing a light.
Like sea creatures that use bioluminescence to hunt their pray, it draws people to what they think is the light, and before they realize it, it tries to eat them. That's the evil that this is.
Diminishing returns.
Being eaten alive.
Solitude
By Katelynn Renee Morgan
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
By Katelynn Renee Morgan
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
kayla98712 wrote:
Solitude
By Katelynn Renee Morgan
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
By Katelynn Renee Morgan
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
This is a poem by Ella Wilxcox
i know it was just a joke.
Kat Sargent wrote:
kayla98712 wrote:
Solitude
By Katelynn Renee Morgan
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
By Katelynn Renee Morgan
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
This is a poem by Ella Wilxcox
Yeah. And also, FYI for Kayla, this particular thread is just for sharing original stuff.
A Real Smile
When you send me a selfie but say
"I don't feel like smiling today."
Don't you know that I look at that picture
And daydream that I find a way?
To put a smile on your face
With a kiss, or a hug, or the trace--
Of my fingertips brushing your cheek
Embracing before you can speak
To stop me and say, "I'm okay.
I just don't feel like smiling today."
You say it as if it's a joke
As if you're just trying to be witty
But at the same time
I've surveyed your mind
And the ground underneath you is shifty
You're getting pulled this way and that
You're following every new impulse
You're courting a change
Breaking out of your range
As the forces attract and repulse
But what I think doesn't matter
You're not as afraid of the change
I'm afraid for you
Of what you might do
Of you giving up progress you've made
You don't know what may be tomorrow
Tomorrow it might all be gone
Tomorrow it might all be different
I'm just trying to follow along
But what I think doesn't matter
I trust you to find what you need
You'll go with the flow
Even if I don't know
Where the thrust of your flow will lead
But I'm sure, right now, it's scary
Your whole life is up in the air
Unlike most, you're not warey
But I know you can't cast off your care
Now is a serious time
Serious things are brewing
You're weighed down by the decision
To give up the course you're pursuing
And so of course you can't smile
Without the smile being a lie
I don't think it's just an amusing aside
A breezy or meme-worthy "hi"
But humor is where it's at
It lightens up everything nicely
So I can't explain all the feelings this brings
Otherwise you might get icy.
But knowing me even a little
You should know that I dream quite a while
About how it would feel just to be there,
And from you, to coax a real smile.
When someone takes an interest in you -- better watch out.
There's a plain reason -- fueling your doubt.
Don't become blinded by their pandering front.
Hold back and ask yourself,
"What do they want?"
Everyone wants something.
Even you do.
And some people know how to get it from you.
It doesn't mean that they're bad and they're wrong
Just that they utilize your need to belong.
So it's okay to care.
But all the while, beware.
There's a plain reason -- fueling your doubt.
Don't become blinded by their pandering front.
Hold back and ask yourself,
"What do they want?"
Everyone wants something.
Even you do.
And some people know how to get it from you.
It doesn't mean that they're bad and they're wrong
Just that they utilize your need to belong.
So it's okay to care.
But all the while, beware.
Broken
Different people are Broken
By different unfortunate things.
We pick ourselves up,
But not all of us have wings.
Some of us struggle,
Some of us go through the pain.
Fitting into society,
Our efforts all in vain.
My sister may be broken
By the wiring of her brain,
The difference in her structure,
Her dancing in the rain.
My mother may be broken
By the thought of going hungry,
Or not being able to drink,
Or sit with her family at tea.
My father may be broken
By the thought of a messy house,
Rubbish there, mess here,
When we simply like to louse.
But I am broken
For the things of my past,
For the trauma I've suffered,
And how long it will last.
I am broken
For the lies I've been told,
For the thought of confidence,
And how people can be so bold.
I am broken
For the people I've loved,
The one's who broke my heart,
And the ones that never sent the dove.
I am broken
And yet they do not see
The mess in my head,
The train wreck that is me.
Different people are Broken
By different unfortunate things.
We pick ourselves up,
But not all of us have wings.
Some of us struggle,
Some of us go through the pain.
Fitting into society,
Our efforts all in vain.
My sister may be broken
By the wiring of her brain,
The difference in her structure,
Her dancing in the rain.
My mother may be broken
By the thought of going hungry,
Or not being able to drink,
Or sit with her family at tea.
My father may be broken
By the thought of a messy house,
Rubbish there, mess here,
When we simply like to louse.
But I am broken
For the things of my past,
For the trauma I've suffered,
And how long it will last.
I am broken
For the lies I've been told,
For the thought of confidence,
And how people can be so bold.
I am broken
For the people I've loved,
The one's who broke my heart,
And the ones that never sent the dove.
I am broken
And yet they do not see
The mess in my head,
The train wreck that is me.
My Palace
I live here alone in a palace,
A palace of shadowy stones,
Stones that contract
And expand in the black
Like so many shifting dead bones.
And over these tiles I wander;
Wandering thoughts flood this mind grim.
Candlelit haze
Creates pools in the maze,
A contrast of blackness and dim.
Up on the walls I have hoisted
Tapestries of folk I don't know,
With eyes so dire
In the candles' cold fire,
Thread faces alive in the glow.
And within my changing black palace
Are pillars embossed withold runes.
Heaven-bound domes
Are the shadows' still homes
Above several well-furnished rooms.
Stretching outside is a silent sea
That I dare not venture across.
Above the spray
Is the lightless sky gray,
The sights of society lost.
My island is slave to the currents;
They push it and prod it through space.
By the sea swept,
In my palace I've wept,
Despairing for sight of a face.
I live here alone in a palace,
A palace of shadowy stones,
Stones that contract
And expand in the black
Like so many shifting dead bones.
And over these tiles I wander;
Wandering thoughts flood this mind grim.
Candlelit haze
Creates pools in the maze,
A contrast of blackness and dim.
Up on the walls I have hoisted
Tapestries of folk I don't know,
With eyes so dire
In the candles' cold fire,
Thread faces alive in the glow.
And within my changing black palace
Are pillars embossed withold runes.
Heaven-bound domes
Are the shadows' still homes
Above several well-furnished rooms.
Stretching outside is a silent sea
That I dare not venture across.
Above the spray
Is the lightless sky gray,
The sights of society lost.
My island is slave to the currents;
They push it and prod it through space.
By the sea swept,
In my palace I've wept,
Despairing for sight of a face.
The Eyes of Death
I once knew Death; he was my friend,
A curious friend-turned-foe.
Then, he was too distant for
His saddened eyes to show.
The years passed by; Death shambled near.
I realized what he meant.
So, for the longest time I
Screamed and begged him to repent.
Then I noticed, for the first time,
Were how sorrowful his eyes.
How saddening a task to watch
As every starving child dies.
How drear a job, to meet the dead
Just after they have died.
And, to take the stunned away
As omnipotent guide?
A dismal post, to witness deaths
Too gruesome to retell:
When—for a cause of honor—dies
A martyr's carousel.
And now I tread, my dread assuaged
With Death the black discloser.
And, though he's not touched me yet,
He inches ever closer.
I once knew Death; he was my friend,
A curious friend-turned-foe.
Then, he was too distant for
His saddened eyes to show.
The years passed by; Death shambled near.
I realized what he meant.
So, for the longest time I
Screamed and begged him to repent.
Then I noticed, for the first time,
Were how sorrowful his eyes.
How saddening a task to watch
As every starving child dies.
How drear a job, to meet the dead
Just after they have died.
And, to take the stunned away
As omnipotent guide?
A dismal post, to witness deaths
Too gruesome to retell:
When—for a cause of honor—dies
A martyr's carousel.
And now I tread, my dread assuaged
With Death the black discloser.
And, though he's not touched me yet,
He inches ever closer.
StaticNightmares wrote:
Broken
Different people are Broken
By different unfortunate things.
We pick ourselves up,
But not all of us have wings.
Some of us struggle,
Some of us go through the pain.
Fitting into society,
Our efforts all in vain.
My sister may be broken
By the wiring of her brain,
The difference in her structure,
Her dancing in the rain.
My mother may be broken
By the thought of going hungry,
Or not being able to drink,
Or sit with her family at tea.
My father may be broken
By the thought of a messy house,
Rubbish there, mess here,
When we simply like to louse.
But I am broken
For the things of my past,
For the trauma I've suffered,
And how long it will last.
I am broken
For the lies I've been told,
For the thought of confidence,
And how people can be so bold.
I am broken
For the people I've loved,
The one's who broke my heart,
And the ones that never sent the dove.
I am broken
And yet they do not see
The mess in my head,
The train wreck that is me.
Different people are Broken
By different unfortunate things.
We pick ourselves up,
But not all of us have wings.
Some of us struggle,
Some of us go through the pain.
Fitting into society,
Our efforts all in vain.
My sister may be broken
By the wiring of her brain,
The difference in her structure,
Her dancing in the rain.
My mother may be broken
By the thought of going hungry,
Or not being able to drink,
Or sit with her family at tea.
My father may be broken
By the thought of a messy house,
Rubbish there, mess here,
When we simply like to louse.
But I am broken
For the things of my past,
For the trauma I've suffered,
And how long it will last.
I am broken
For the lies I've been told,
For the thought of confidence,
And how people can be so bold.
I am broken
For the people I've loved,
The one's who broke my heart,
And the ones that never sent the dove.
I am broken
And yet they do not see
The mess in my head,
The train wreck that is me.
That's really good, thanks for sharing.
Erroneous wrote:
My Palace
I live here alone in a palace,
A palace of shadowy stones,
Stones that contract
And expand in the black
Like so many shifting dead bones.
And over these tiles I wander;
Wandering thoughts flood this mind grim.
Candlelit haze
Creates pools in the maze,
A contrast of blackness and dim.
Up on the walls I have hoisted
Tapestries of folk I don't know,
With eyes so dire
In the candles' cold fire,
Thread faces alive in the glow.
And within my changing black palace
Are pillars embossed withold runes.
Heaven-bound domes
Are the shadows' still homes
Above several well-furnished rooms.
Stretching outside is a silent sea
That I dare not venture across.
Above the spray
Is the lightless sky gray,
The sights of society lost.
My island is slave to the currents;
They push it and prod it through space.
By the sea swept,
In my palace I've wept,
Despairing for sight of a face.
I live here alone in a palace,
A palace of shadowy stones,
Stones that contract
And expand in the black
Like so many shifting dead bones.
And over these tiles I wander;
Wandering thoughts flood this mind grim.
Candlelit haze
Creates pools in the maze,
A contrast of blackness and dim.
Up on the walls I have hoisted
Tapestries of folk I don't know,
With eyes so dire
In the candles' cold fire,
Thread faces alive in the glow.
And within my changing black palace
Are pillars embossed withold runes.
Heaven-bound domes
Are the shadows' still homes
Above several well-furnished rooms.
Stretching outside is a silent sea
That I dare not venture across.
Above the spray
Is the lightless sky gray,
The sights of society lost.
My island is slave to the currents;
They push it and prod it through space.
By the sea swept,
In my palace I've wept,
Despairing for sight of a face.
Both of yours are stunningly good.
We Hate Everything about the People that We Love
We are the lonely
We are the lost
We are the broken
We are the cost
That comes with the pain
That comes with the tears
That comes with the numbing
That comes with the years
Of pain and torture
Of denial and hatred
Of attacks and breakdowns
Of sorrow from the one we dated.
We are the lonely
We are the lost
We are the broken
We are the cost
That comes with the pain
That comes with the tears
That comes with the numbing
That comes with the years
Of pain and torture
Of denial and hatred
Of attacks and breakdowns
Of sorrow from the one we dated.
#1First poetry
Love
Isn't it weird when i look into your eyes. I feel happy?
Isn't it weird when you talk, i giggle?
Isn't it weird that when i see you, i wanna cry of pure joy?
Is it weird that i get that nice feeling when i think about you?
Love
Isn't it weird when i look into your eyes. I feel happy?
Isn't it weird when you talk, i giggle?
Isn't it weird that when i see you, i wanna cry of pure joy?
Is it weird that i get that nice feeling when i think about you?
Cookiesareyummie wrote:
#1First poetry
Love
Isn't it weird when i look into your eyes. I feel happy?
Isn't it weird when you talk, i giggle?
Isn't it weird that when i see you, i wanna cry of pure joy?
Is it weird that i get that nice feeling when i think about you?
Love
Isn't it weird when i look into your eyes. I feel happy?
Isn't it weird when you talk, i giggle?
Isn't it weird that when i see you, i wanna cry of pure joy?
Is it weird that i get that nice feeling when i think about you?
That's your first poem? Aw. Thanks for sharing it.
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