Out with the Loathing, In with the Benevolence


The pain of being left behind has lingered inside you for years, years, years.


So you thought the patrons berating me weren’t bad enough, nuff, nuff.


I had open wounds all over my body.


And you dumped a bucket of salt on them.


You knew perfectly well how hurt I was before that.


Yet you tie a leash on my neck and commanded me to listen


Like the dog I was when I barked back at you.




No matter what my decision was, I was going to lose to you.


My attachment to you was the perfect gun for you to fire


Because it was loaded with the tablets that nearly did you in.


On that fateful day, you survived and I thought that true love was out of my reach.


You would have had the last laugh, but several days later, the joke’s on you.


I’m someone else’s now so tough luck and good riddance to bad rubbish.



You say you’re free of me,


Yet your memories of me have locked you up


and thrown away the key.



I know that because you have loads of trouble letting go of the past.



You can vent ‘til the cows come home that I never
made time for you, you, you!


Everything has to be about me, me, me!


But that was only the surface you scratched.


That’s the furthest you ever went.


It says more about you than me.


Hell, a beefcake could clear his schedule for you better than I can.



But his chivalry might be aggressive mimicry.




If he breaks your heart, it ain’t my problem.


Now that I’m out of your reach, you can’t touch me.


I’m mingling with the losers like I’m dancing in a nightclub in Italy.


It was a wakeup call to screw your shade


Because one of them loves everything about me.



It’s not looking the other way. It’s enjoying the person I was born to be.





Every day I don’t look you up online

Nor read your old messages, my memories of you hurt less and less.

While I can visualize you a decade from now

Still being stroppy about the delusion that I never cared for you.

Who knows? You could call me a cunt and still claim part of you loves me.

And you’re sorry it had to be this way.


But… fuck no! Let’s be real. You’re not sorry. No aspect of you loves me.



You played the sarcasm card on me. So how about a taste of your own medicine for a change?

Good luck becoming a psychologist with the attitude of a wack job.

Good luck getting that degree while you throw a fit on every single assignment you get.

Good luck handing that very same garbage you threw at me to a couple getting a divorce.

I can’t wait to see a patient badmouth you on Reddit and turn you into a court jester.

Maybe I did learn a lesson from you after all;

Knowing when it is time to let go and never come back.

The Face

Tales and Fables

The saddest eyes in a world of gray

Full of hurt, and the weakest strength

Windows to a tortured brain

Courting madness to look sane


I see the darkness around your face

That you try to hide away

You've lost the will to live again

Subject to recurring pain


The wrinkles flow around your features

Like roiled and cracked imprints of creatures

Growing old while in your prime

Extenuate the charm of time


The mouth is small and bares it's teeth

Silent when it ought to speak

Chewing when it ought to stay

Cursing the good days away


Stepping back

Now I see

It's simply a mirror

Reflecting me...

View seraphim's Full Portfolio


To grab you
My future
Our culture
Combined, intertwined
Meant to be
You and me

You left
It's for the best if
I jumped off a cliff and
Ran away
Go away
Emotions canned
Love is banned
I need you
Come back
Love is what I lack

I Feel Pity

I feel pity for Paul of Sons and Lovers,

And also for Oedipus,

The same is my feeling,

When I think of Tereus, the tragic king!


I feel so sad for King Lear,

And for Othello after his tragic blunder,

Macbeth’s folly makes me forlorn too,

I feel so bad for the untimely departure of Sukanta.


The death of Socrates somewhat terrifies me!


Dejected I feel thinking of Mandela in the penitentiary.

View kingofwords's Full Portfolio



what is sorry?

some self

made curse,

hidden in


of ground



crawl in


break them

in two

they curl

and thrive,


they go on,

they survive.




6:11 PM 4/18/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

wallowing in sorrow, we all do it at times.

View nightlight1220's Full Portfolio

Twisted Vision

Little twips,
Envious snips,
Ill equipped,
Worried about things out of their league,
For the sake of intrigue,
Must be so sad for them,
Only viciousness shone,
Cold to the bone,
Their illusory throne,



It's a real pity,
I'm not being witty,
Monotonous city,
A wall of deceit that's not pretty,
A haggard old snotnose committee,
Unhappiness clouding,
Their lives full of doubting,
Oh my, how they dare,
I can't say I care,
No, not one itty,


© 2013

View nightlight1220's Full Portfolio


When the cloudies besiege the whole skies
With Darknesses like Camelot in the night
No man saves from hands of ogries
Even a Foetus who never knows the kite

Everywhere decorates with broken calabashes
To which no leaves on the land to crunch through
As the earth breaths with weaken tiny lunges
With all areas shake thunderlikely in brew

The heaven seems not pity anyone
As seems defiating and silencing in thorough
Even the saint man suffers more than Malone
Who mutates man with his protruding teeth with broth

The help is no where to be found,even the safety hampers
everyman now like hens that can announce its death with knife
What is this life again,nothing at all but ember
A spit is the result of disgusting,oooops! The life

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A good nation makes a good citizens and an urbaned world makes a good nature residents

View truedreams's Full Portfolio


Light and Dark

Pity the man, who sears his conscience,
He who loses sense of right,
They that plot another’s destruction,
There is no rest for the wicked.

Justice to the man, who kills his neighbor,
Judgment of God will fall on his head,
Pity to those whose light is darkness,
There is no rest for the wicked.

Pray for the man, whose way is lost,
Speak to those who don’t know right,
Seize the day, send them rest,
For there is no rest for the wicked.

View seraphim's Full Portfolio

What "Is"

Happiness Is so dear

Happiness Is sincere

Happiness Is reckoning with G-D

Whom we all love and Fear

Sadness Is death

Sadness Is a breath

That sooner or later

Will reside no more

Anger Is a temporary state

Anger Is a part of us all

It Is a vicious animal

with too many lives

Pity Is for the good

Pity Is truly somthing that should

Be looked upon as a divine favor

For if not, what ever would....  

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a very simple poem.  Maybe my first. I wrote this many years ago.  Although it is short and simple, one may still perceive the essence of its truth. These four feelings are a mainstay in our "human condition."  We all  have to come to terms with them when our personal development will be challenged from time to time.  To succeed as a human being, requires mastering and controlling them and learning to grow with them by sharing with others.  Only then, will we find true fullfilment and purpose in our existence.  

View 2bpositive's Full Portfolio