ideas

We Dance

Folder: 
Spirituality

They say. “you’ve got nothing to give, if you give yourself nothing”

That’s the point of it.

There’s really nothing.

We are neither here, nor there.

There’s really no one.

We’re all just electrical expressions of life

Moving in time space

Breathing in air

Buckets of water

Cataclysms of emotion

Which is why I still care

Why I still want to show you…

every peace of me

I still want to give myself to you…

effortlessly

I still want to know you

with every moment that I breathe

 

You are who I am to be

You are who I choose

You are the one, the only one

You, my divinity, are the truth in me

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Follow your intuition.

Oh, there you are.

Folder: 
Paradigms

I've spent moments in the mirror...

Staring into my soul-windows

Remembering what matters most

It's time to continue on course

I am a holistic, interdependent, force

The Beast Inside...

The beast inside…

© 2017 SachikoMochiko " Sachi Ruaya

 

What’s worse than killing someone? Leaving them suffering alive. Now, whether or not they suffer is up to them…

 

Cracks…that’s how the light comes in.

 

You found that someone,

Who you deem; is the last piece of you

O’ but that one…that other one just "

How long will your grip hold?

 

 

It’s a dark feeling; jealousy

Where green, grey and black swirls weave your heart

Like steel, poison ivy 

 

 

As your blood curdles and boils,

your red-laced eyes eyeball

That one who touched your precious

 

 

Your precious gem that you admire from afar.

Your precious one, who births a hazy warm chest.

Your precious half…the other fading half of you.

 

 

But you refrain from killing

And instead of making arrangements to prey,

You keep that one alive  but suffering from your fangs

 

Your inner beast lurks inside,

already devoured half of you and yourself.

Its true form will not feast unless you do

 

 

Your fangs…its fangs bite, drawing thick, oozy blood

Of the one you hold captive in your prison

All for that one precious one, you shed blood

 

 

Your bite…your torture…your beast

Is a reflection of the steel, poison ivy

Is a being born from your selfishness…your jealousy

 

 

But you continue to feast even when you know

Know that this beast will soon consume your flesh, Bone-clean

Because pleasure will come from ones’ suffering

 

 

You are blinded by the beast; your scarlet eyes see no more,

the beauty of your precious gem…

BlurryVivid. Pitch-black.

 

 

You have lost sight of your intentions,

And your precious gem’s light is no more

Now, you know: You. Are. Devoured.

 

 

You sit there on the bottom of the beast’s stomach

Living with the pure darkness of your own

Alone. With your crackling, dry heart -unable to love

 

 

After all, you were just blind.

Destined to lurk in darkness.

 

 

Emptiness. Your skin slowly peels off from the dry darkness

Slowly…painfully, in this prison, the veil is ripped

Revealing something undeniably powerful

 

You.

 

 

The bleeding wounds of which the skin is peeled

Thus, shunned the lies and unveils the truth

The truth of you embedded inside -within the beast

 

The light suppresses the dry darkness 

With your passion, memories, joy and love

You slice through the belly…striving for freedom once more!

 

 

Author’s Note: 

 

This is one of the small fragments to ready one of my upcoming masterpiece. I will write more poems like this (having the same motivational force). WORRY is next.



 
 

© 2017 SachikoMochiko

Author's Notes/Comments: 
This is one of the "practice" poems so I can produce a higher quality work for a special someone of mine:)

Gosh...my punctuation is bad. Just like any other poems I post here, it ain't finished. Still more reviewing to be done. But overall, I hope you enjoy XD

=

Jealousy, eh? Just a quick note, any poem I write is nearly always based off of my true feelings and recent events/emotions. 
"I thought it was good but felt it would be better if it was a story...it feels like your using a lot of words which is good but feel it would make an amazing story if it had a bit more body in it... not sure what type of criticism you wanted. I think you would be amazing at writing stories I’m not being negative I agree with what the person below said just think it’s more story like xx" - Simba
"Raw and honest.Outstanding imagery in words and visuals. I can picture you in my head, shouting these words at the person this story is intended for. My only little critique is that there are more than a few harsh words used that I would have replaced with something different. He's not returning your love but you can't force someone to do so. Other than that brilliant as always I look forward to the rest of the story " Thedeus Hobbs

Odd Man Out

Sometimes, I realize how different I am.

 

A shape that doesn't fit into any one particular place

 

Odd man out

 

When I look back on how versatile I've always been

Lots of different cliques, not a singular type of friend

 

Expending everything I have to be someone people want to talk to

 

But for what?

 

What am I searching for?

 

 

I can identify so many beautiful things that I have

In real life

 

A short few people who actually love me, for me

 

When I need them, they come through

 

In depth long conversation

 

Or just a simple cup of coffee because they're near

 

These are tried and true relationships

 

 

Sometimes I realize how different I am.

 

The tallest tree in the forest, towering above those who directly surround her

 

Or the tiniest grain of sand, undifferentiated, lost in an endless desert

So much the same, but uniquely separate in perspective

Nothing better, nothing worse

Just different...

 

If I had the choice to be somene else, in another place, another position

I wouldn't think twice before turning it down

I realize this isolation is an opportunity to turn myself around

I was once lost, and once again I will be found

I know I won't find myself in the struggle of another

So, I'll stop attempting to drown myself in the company of others

The silence, the absence, the willingness to be with me

The effort, The choice, The solace

It's become my sole necessity

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I'm in a weird space within right now.

Trying to find the strength to go radio silent and let the true friendships surface.

Trying to find a true friendship with myself, and rebuild my connection to my spirit.

Distance and space are hard to do when you feel like you'll be missing out on others.

But, it's time.

Lost to Sea

light a fire just to watch it burn
Sit across the street with empty hands
Behind a tree unnoticed, so it's not my turn 
I have infinite thoughts, but empty plans

Ending up only to be pretty hollow
Ideas only stay for portion of a second
Echoing through the empty walls. and then comes nothing
Diffusing into the air, to become a forgotten particle
and nothing comes to follow


To set the ominous breeze,
Over the most vibrant sea, that suddenly lost color
and the skies are now gone and dull
They paint the picture to not excite, but simply appease


To be trapped inside this now and empty void
With nothing but everything destroyed
To say that we are fine, and simply avoid
Now we sail, swift onto the large sea of contradictions
Too lost within, that we forget our own convictions
Letting loose the anchor of anxiety, and thus become the restrictions

 

But this is not the end,
A man aboard throws over his only friend
And a storm rolls in, and then our destination is not known
As realization becomes the new sun, and hearts are turned to stone
A daughter now deserted by her parents is overwhelmed in strife
She whimpers, but can not help wonder what makes up this sickly life
A world where people phase in, and phase out
and thoughts become ideas, and ideas become a shout
and how long does a day go on to stay out and last,
Before awesome expectations become invisible, straight into the past?

 

Will the ship find it's way to land, or sink in despair?
Great ideas no match for the roaring waves of Negativity and ignorance?
Those striving so long for a real sun, to only be in vain, deprived?
And those hopelessly waiting for relief, to be cruelly concealed, unaware?

 

The masterpiece of a book now weathered to nothing but scribbles
A great idea now hidden and destroyed by life's cruel riddles
Will the hands be strong at ease to create another inspiration?

Or will it fail to swim over the simplest waves and forget it's own foundation?






Thoughts and Emotions

Folder: 
Mindscapes

 

My thoughts are

Disorganized, 

Shards of broken glass.

 

If I touch them, they will cut me, 

Blood spilling onto the floor, 

Tainting it, making it slick.

 

Or Perhaps rather

They are constantly shifting

Like a cloud in the sky

 

If I touch them, they pass

Through my fingers, out of reach

Where birds fly and wheel.

 

I close my eyes and reach blindly

Deep into the well of my mind,

Grasping desperately for sanity.

 

I surround myself.

 

Darkness explodes into color.

 

Notes flow past, 

Lifting, resonating

Pounding

Through my veins.

 

Thicker than blood,

Faster than clouds.

 

Spreading

Filling

As my soul flies.

 

Stronger than anger

More enduring than love

All the colors of the heart and mind

Fade in comparison.

 

Flaring white-hot spots of 

Brilliance, Blooming into 

Warmth, Cooling the mind, 

Easing pain and fatigue.

 

All the world is music.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Personal philosophy, 

 

Music is emotion, and emotion is music. There is no difference.

View reilamorello's Full Portfolio

I've Been Standing on My Head

I've Been Standing On My Head,

Shaking  Good Ideas Out From  My Feet,
An Old Rocking Chair Sits on the Edge of My Tongue,
In case Words Decide to  Come,
Stillness May Allow,
Sharpe-Angled Bits,
To Enter Silver-Tonguned Dreams
I'd Be Dead If I Were Numb,
Ideas Come,
Fat Through Chewed Gum,
Stuck Underneath Tables When Young,
Awake and Stitched In,
A Simple Snow Day,
White Within,
Swirling and Hushed Echo Ballet Dance,
Flake-Up Into Night Sky  Chased Straight By Individual  Whiskey-Paced Red Faces,
Stupid Old Me Goes to Sea Again,
Let the Little Pink Fishes Swim Out From Your Eyes Again,

That's Where i'll Hide,
Behind  Immovable Stone
That's Where i'll Be 

I took the test,
It Says I'm the Best at Being Last,
But Worse,
Good At Being  Bad,
(oh god!) Good Glory for a Pleasant Feeling
Nothing That Appears Sturdy Can Be Strong,
Good has Soft Spots like Baby Heads
Evil  has Purple-Pock-Marks like Devils Bread

View hce's Full Portfolio

Thoughts to Ideas to Words to Poems.

Just start Writing.
Just start thinking.
It does not matter.

Just put your thoughts down.
And spread them all around.

Let your ideas cook.
Convert them to words.
Let the style settle.

Let your words fly,
And tangle together,

If it gets a little unsettled.
Just let your Ideas congeal.

Words could mean anything.
Turn them into something.

And let it all be.

View pinkdot7's Full Portfolio

Morbid Devices

Folder: 
Volume Three


Morbid Devices

~*~

 

Seeing their fears spread out across their face,

running towards the light, falling across open space.

This is not a story of a broken home,

the devices we find ourselves in, when we are left alone and to our own.

The locked doors that we desire to explore,

godless and forsaken, on your knees still begging for more.

 

Follow me through my mind, like the white rabbit

don't get lost for I am told it can be quite rabid.

Lets dig down even deeper, lets meet the gate keeper

from what I hear he can be a real creeper.

Morbid devices, from a mountain of corpses

with bloody hands everyone reach for your torches.

 

Whispers spread that I have lost my touch,

that in the darkness I surround myself with a crutch

whiskey to drown away the sorrow,

a couple of pills, courage for tomorrow

eyes on the addiction always one step behind temptation.

Chased a fleeting dream, that faded far to fast

held back by depression, where happiness never did last

We hold onto the seconds, those precious thoughts

ironically those seconds over time cause our memories to rot.

 

There is chaos to a sadistic order, where each step defines our future.

Marching to the drums of madness, living within our own bliss

where the blind lead the damned, believing in the suicidal ignorance.

Becoming zombies in a world of sin and disease,

it's like the nature of survival where we become children in a carnival.

 

Deep within this forest, is a path that cannot be sought

a trial by fire, where never again will my soul be bought

you could close your eyes and lie to me,

and tell me that through the chaos there can be no beauty.

The idea of hope has twisted into an ugly word,

where every distraction makes it become obscured.

The dreams that faded long ago,

leaves pain in its wake, as time moves slow.

 

“The stars in the heavens, show us a path of the gods

sharing with us the stories of our lives, as humanity reminds us of the flaws.”

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

[Edited - Cleaned up messy Codeing]

 Hmmmmm not much to add about this one, I was decently pleased with the outcome but still does feel like its missing a bit.

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