PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In Their Company

Violins aren't

just the ones that make those sounds

How about cellos?

There was something there 

I refuse to believe you’re unaware

Of all those moments and what we shared

Not only is it incredibly unfair

To be painted as someone impaired

Because I noticed exactly what was there

Maybe I’m right and you needed some flare

So you used my emotions regardless of the tear

It caused in my heart when I became aware

That I was nothing more than an ego stroke

Because it all seemed like the perfect joke

Fool the girl into heartbreak

By letting her know she was never great

Not even close, it was just a prank

Either way I don’t care

If you actually liked me deep down somewhere

Because now I know the definition for overrated

And next time I won’t be so easily baited

Paper trails troll troubling trends into contempt of the truth.

Discount viscounts will turn a rogue rat to a mouse.

No cheese, just smoke them out.

Blow them away with a flash sale.

Beyond the veil is a marriage of malcontent and a desire to fix.

Every troll has a bridge.

Who will hang who with the rope used to support it?

Will you pay per trail that you choose to follow even if it brings sorrow?

Will you step on old branches and leaves in the forest of tomorrow?

To scuttle as a borrower or play possum?

Stiff as the floorboards that formed your house.

Are you leader or louse?

Docile or doused in gangster or grouch?

Is it a straight fight for what you have inside or what you put out?

Sometimes those with those with the most beef will claim vegan for clout?

Sometimes we claim our walls are full of beauty yet we paint them with doubt.

Then we redecorate them and redecorate them until the paint tinge is all we are

So much more

*

When frozen into form as in

icebergs, water has

endless shapes.

When it melts is

has but one.

When the ego

predominates 

we desire

individuality.

When we achieve

egolessness

we desire only

with all to be One

saiom shriver

I am the shadow, fading into silence

I am the words you shoved in a box

I am blood, sex & violence

behind the symbol of peace

I am light enraptured unto the void

from a thousand years of cosmic darkness

chasing the souls of stars

I am the mirror you wish to avoid

with the tears that coiled down the drain

& the years wasted on nothing--

but what you thought was yourself...

Periodic Table: The Elements of You & Me©

Kyla Bingham (Written circa September-October 2011 – modified January 25, 2012)

You can call me helium cuz I rise above.

Iron shouldn’t float, but that’s exactly what I do cuz I’ve got a core of pure gold, and it’s overlaid with love.

Breathe that in, I’m oxygen, breathe so deep, you think your lungs’ll burst.

Now add two atoms of hydrogen, cuz I’m all you need to quench your thirst.

But you played fickle and jumped around on me like mercury daring to make my temperature rise.

So I was forced to bury you deeper than silver, I had you all the way at the earth’s core and still wasn’t done cutting you down to size.

What’s that? Now you’re crying—eyes looking like I threw chlorine in your face.

You messed with me and honestly, you woulda been better off eating arsenic—cuz I’m about to chew through you faster than a moth does old lace.

I coulda built you up strong like calcium

But you crossed me. So now I must crush you—leave you crumpled like aluminum.

Why’d you hafta go step outta line?

I didn’t wanna cut you this deep and leave you burning from being doused with this verbal iodine.

You’re faker than breasts of silicon,

Weaker than Superman on an IV of krypton.

You’re so all over the place; I think you best ask “doc” to up your dosage of lithium.

Lord knows I can’t deal with your erratic ways so we can’t go back and we have no future—not even if you had a Dolorian and plutonium.

People like you will never change; wouldn’t help if y’all were made of copper & nickel.

So it’s my job to slice you outta my life and cut you down with a decisive swing of my linguistic sickle.

After that, I freeze you ‘til it burns, like liquid nitrogen, then leave you teetering on the brink.

And just when you think you’re safe, I’ll shove you off the edge, watch you shatter, observe as you rot in the pit of despair until like sulfur you begin to stink.

Did you really think you could compete and outclass me? I’m a flawless, priceless diamond; that much is obvious by my sparkling wit.

Whereas you? You’re just cheap zirconium—purely counterfeit.

You’re a washed-up has-been, a dingy peon.

I’m a glowing marquis for all the world to see—flickering, flashing and lighting up the night like a sign of neon.

My mind is full, it’s a forged steel trap, and stronger than galvanized titanium.

You’ve got nothing of worth to share—it’s so hollow it echoes inside your cranium.

And if these words have been harsh, I can’t and won’t apologize—this is my manifesto of feelings and emotions—there’s simply no stopping or combatin'  ‘em.

Besides, why would I even want to fight it? Not when every utterance I make is unadulterated truth and my tongue’s drippings are liquid platinum.

                                                    Far away in the arduous sands of time,

                                                              Near the roars of the ocean floor,

                                                     I stand a fallen statue

                                                                  A Statue of old folklore

                                                      Who would know this King of Kings?

                                                                     Who would rather despair?

                                          That this mighty heart has fallen,                                                                                                        

                                                         Beyond all Nature’s care

                                                      The whiff of misty sea winds,

                                                                       Carrying their haunted sound

                                                       Wear my pieces of crumbling stones

                                                                       That pile up all around

                                                            A lonely stranger walks up to me,

                                                                           With a lonelier shadow by the side,

                                                            Touching my white alabaster,

                                                                           Feeling torn and soulless inside

                                                            Cries he to me, O King of Kings

                                                                           You loveless, heartless soul,

                                                            You deserve to lie in ruins,

                                                                           You deserve to die alone and cold

                                                            He mocks my very works,

                                                                           He slanders my very name

                                                            His shadow seems to despise me,

                                                                           His words put me to shame

                                                            And then I look into his sunken eyes,

                                                                           They are angry but torn 

                                                            His mocking tone, is slanderous

                                                                           Yet his voice is all forlorn.

                                                            The stranger knows I know him by glance,

                                                                           He knows he cannot feign anymore,

                                                            And with truth, the sad evening comes to end,      

                                                                     The stranger enters my ruins once more   

                                                           To lie buried with me in the arduous sands of time,

                                                                     Near the roars of the ocean floor,

Desponding of my ego

the unvarnished truth of 

what material affairs 

define 

forming solitude 

destorting the absolute

faberacting our 

character 

parading around in

this vicinity

accepting what is

considered humanity

when will we learn to discern ego from truth, & justice from what is right or wrong.. 

your skin feels like glass scratching against the surface of my spirit, & who you are is what you shape yourself to be..

but you'll never be a part of what is me.

shaking with some persperation, tied down & untame.

name's without faces...

blank plastic figures taking over your home place & shattering what's left of your heart's fragile stained glass case,

cracked & already chipping all over the place.

emotional sea over-riding me. there's never a drought in her desolate, humid mental space.

her own breath she's suffocated by..

further wandering into the forest, dimmer as each one dies.

the air must be experiencing high tide.

oxygen genocide. the smoke get's thicker as time passes you by..

climbing ladders, risking your life for status & score.

are we nothing but empty within our core?

destiny must be further out at sea, & these clouds are all that's guiding me.. 

a bit confusing, these doors close behind me..

the shut & slam grows louder each time.

am I walking on a thin line? is there someone there beneath me..?

close your eyes, & see further inside.. reality is just a disguise.

if you can refrain, don't let imagery corrupt your mind.

each & every time I come back around from outside the lines, the coloring is always the same.

dull & grey.. not to change...

i'll leave another blood stain on your concrete floor as i'm walking out the door, once again..

I should of never stopped back in.

imagine, ponder. your love, paralyzed & controlled by fear.. it doesn't feel like they're really here.

all you thought they were is just a blur, or a phase.

the vibe is in constant change. dampened by the harsh rain.. 

spiritual metamorphosis, brain activity levels to hold sustained.

sometimes the screaming within me won't subside.. should I hide?

all I really want is to be one with the sky.

is there only paradise behind the gate's, entering the afterlife..?