PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Here I lie, in my grave of misconceptions

Here I lie, trapped in this casket of unconsciousness

Here I lie, actually alive but unwilling to survive

Here I lie, my grievances and my passions put in their place of rest

Here I lie, allowing my story to change and choosing to remain idle

Here I lie, remaining silent, as if I held that sweet embrace of death

Here I lie, pretending and being pretentious so that you'll notice me again

Here I lie, with a crooked smile on my face, and my eyes awake with thin bloody grace

Here I lie, laughing at how pathetic you look crying for me, as if you cared

Here I lie, listening to how you lie about how you felt about me

Here I lie, people say it's unbelievable like lady liberty having a nose bleed

Here I lie, realizing how selfish I was for taking the cowards way out

Here I lie, acting like I'm dead, so that you'll try to understand me again

Here I lie, saying that I'm being strong when in reality, I've only cried

Here I lie, saying that I hate you, and that I wish that we never met

Here I lie, saying that I love you, because it is so much more than that

Here I lie, because I was afraid that you would hate me

Here I lie, saying that you were nothing to me

Here I lie, telling myself that everything will be ok

Here I lie, and I will always lie to you, because that is who I am, a liar, and

Here I will always lie, because that's what happens, when a liar loves their brother, with their now cold, dead, heart.

Here lies a good person, cause of death, a broken heart that lost all its love, and a soul that lost its mate.

A troubled EldeR from lands

far, flat, and dull,
grew an EyE
for exhaustion.
Monochrome modern monotony had taken its toll.

As breath tugged him
in its cool gentle waves,
and his tongue tasted upon
the wind’s pursuits;
an EtheR formed within.
In front.
Behind. Aside.

At dinner
he sat & he sipped
on a prescription
mystic’s brew
of Mush & Mellow.
Lost fountains
became him
as his stomach eased
into the spiraling reality
brought forth
by the antidotes.

The senses erupted,
Transformation, Manifestation,
an Elegant dance
of the melodic suicide with
Fear and Ego.

There were Visions
of the Ancient Trees
that have outlived,
out-seen,
outgrown,
the mess of reason,
to bring forth recognition of trade
between
Air,
perpetual sources shared;
Bronchial-Branch-Synchronicity
he called It.

Entrancing Essence
took his Shape:
dipped It into delicate Light,
painted It onto induced Exposure.
This EldeR combined the EtheR
with a numbing Tourniquet
that slowed thoughts
to Utter Stillness.

When the man awoke,
his mouth was dry with dust,
his bodily cloth had
transitioned with age,
but the Remedy had
left its mark.

This new Midnight sage
wore a
traveler’s grin,
carried
questions of sin.
Rain
became Him
and All.

The Village & Its people
Healed
in the misty trails,
mouthing mantras
with each crash of thunder,
And the Sage partly with them
as an
otherworldly presence
between
the Colourful landscapes
of the living and dead.

I opened my eyes another day seeing only

the same endless ocean. This beautiful,

disheartening endless ocean.

A ship with the possibilities to be seen for

many miles. Yet, the oceans waves taunt me

with its excessive, dramatic waves.

Concealing me from the eyes of others.

This ocean; my best friend, my enemy. The

reason I have discovered the woes of

isolation.

Daily I wake up with a heart's desire to see

land, to move onward in my life's journey.

The oceans jealousy believes its memories

will be lost, but never. I vow! Caring

nothing for my hearts desire, yet it

mocks me with possibilities. Possibilities

that I might one day feel and experience what is now only memories.

my months spent crying, pleading, full of

hateful anger changed nothing. As I awoke

my eyes each morning was locked on the

same blue ocean floor. Deep waves, cool

breezes, moving deep sea passer-bys of the unknown.

I potentially die from the thought of

marriage to this mountain of beautiful

misery.

Years of plotting my escape proved to b

e act of a dreamer, not a doer.

My heart has grown numb and in my numbness, its torture lacks the effect it once had. I scream to all, my voice stripped and dry, barely heard by even the wind.

the silence of my unheard words replaced with the crashes of ocean waves; I will never submit.

Even while my knees have bent and come closer and closer to the panels of stained wood. 

I seemingly lose the courage to keep with my

vow to never submit, yet my vow to leave

this prison of cumbersome water has

engulfed me in disillusion.

In my lucid thoughts, I mumble of its

devilish games. The games that I will never willingly accept.

I listen to its illustrious melody. I am its mistress, a

the battle that seems impossible.

I am lost...

I am weak...

I will FIGHT till death approaches me.

"Where so many rush to fall asleep,

I tend to creep,

afraid of the a lack of light, 

what's in store for tonight. 

Would you like to know why?

I'm afraid of what's inside,

what I always seem to need,

what sleeps within me.

When the darkness falls

and my mind succumbs to sweet slumber,

lumbering in comes the pattering of feet,

clawed, and I can't seem to scream.

I try to get out from underneath the covers,

to run away, but I am stayed 

by the sudden jacket, holding arms back,

while at my heels chases the maniac. 

It is the ghoul, it's in my room,

and now theres nothing but abyss,

amiss of clothes and shoe and tooth

as I run to only bring closer nothingness.

And now I am within reach, looking back

at the black teeth, to tear my wide and tall,

before tripping onto face,

no hands to break the fall. 

And looking to what had cause the trip,

innocent children, empty faces,

look into me, through me, and it hurts,

it burns, no clue why they are in my plight.

And now taking flight, they chase me too,

I am running to a single point,

straight jacket still applied,

my escape impossible, my voice mute. 

Again, so focued to the rear,

I forget about the front, 

looking ahead to see now in front of me

the biggest snake ever slithers on scene. 

The snake grows bigger, stopping,

rearing its head, baring its fangs,

it wraps me in it's tail,

and squeezes me tight.

I can't stand the grip, crying out,

but no sound comes, 

just the sound of my eyes popping out,

and the sound of the plop.

The drop of me, hitting the carpet,

falling onto the floor, blanket wrapped around me,

back in my room, not monsters,

no snake no ghoul.

Just the sweat drenched shirt,

the paper-dry throat,

rattled, another night lost

to the internal battle. Nightmares reign."  

To enjoy the dead 

and hate the living

to be awake in bed

and never offer a giving

Poke your eyes out and hear

Every rock is screaming

                  be it far

                            be it near.

Crying while you take out

the blade from her chest.

"They made me do it!

    I'm weak!

He will kill menow

cause she told him to 

or she will die from his left hand

cause his right was cut

off by a righteous man

who fought for a woman

who never loved

after she was raped 

by the pastor

when she prayed 

to be free

but the pastor had taken 

more pills than

his mortal God

told him to take."

All that ends in hell

started in Eden.

You cry as I cry.

You don't see me 

as I see you,

but you can smell me.

You don't know that the smell is mine.

It just reminds you

of the home

you had

when you were a baby.

It reminds you

of your first love,

of your wife,

of your dead child,

though you never knew her,

it reminds you of

peace

and that makes you cry more and the guilt is tearingyour ribs and your own breath is suffocating you.

"

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. 

I'm sorry.I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

"

I can't forgive you.

Life is filled with ups and downs...

With many smiles and numerous frowns...

Heart felt words that were left unsaid...

Remembered too late..cause now you are dead...

When alive, the man was famous like a movie star,

He used to be stylish ever,

After fame he did run with much delight,

Like a boy runs after a flying kite!

Now he is dead, enwrapped in white cloth entirely,

His soul has escaped from his body,

As if a criminal tasted freedom!

As if it were free from boredom!

When alive, he had the whole world before,

Now he has only one room to enter- sepulcher!

Down on forgotten beds
angels in stone
forever watch
those who sleep
in the arms of comfort
of the silent
and the still
of the dreaming worm

Sound of Drums

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

The day is past.

The dead are dead.

Their lives for naught.

Rebellion, they led.

Their Freedom!,

Never was.

Their Freedom!,

Will never be.

Slaves, chains, sound of drums.

Slaves, chains, sound of drums.

Slaves, chains, sound of drums.

Slaves, chains, sound of drums.

The time is past.

The slaves are slaves.

Their lives ruled by law.

The rebellion, did not last.

Their bravery, their flaw.

Their Freedom!,

Never was.

Their Freedom!,

Will never be.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.