PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

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

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 air can blow us away,

But we can also blow air.

We can create air to use on others,

Yet air can not create us to use on air.

It is tossed around,

Is trapped and might never be set free,

Yet we need it for ourselves

So it can blow away our biggest fears.

Known for its power to move boulders,

And yet a feather is heavier than itself,

Can destroy houses that we live in,

Yet still whistles a song of peace.

We destroy it’s home for luxury

As we sacrifice the luxury to have it.

We sacrifice our own,

So we can give it to others.

Yin might say it holds our lives,

While Yang says it is the death of us,

Yang uses it for power,

While Yin is its only family.

They soon want to run away with each other,

As we cry for it to comeback,

Only for us to torture it’s home,

So it can stay trapped forever.

Your Beauty extends the universe to my delight,

It warms  and shines where there is no light,

Your Beauty holds me so bright, I’m ready for any fight,

Your Beauty beholds me with an epic sight.

And If one day I lose my sight,

I’ll have Your splendor all for my heart delight.

And You’ll forever be the most beautiful sight.

The power is out,
The lights are gone anyways,
Seems I couldn’t find my way,
Always astray,
These days.

In a word,
Shutdown.
Past people,
Irrelevant sequels,
Happiness tainted by a frown.

Living to love,
Accidentally creating hate,
Emotions churn,
Leaving a burn,
Logic arriving too late.

It’s amazing the amount of power someone can have over you

Simply by knowing your name.

They know your name,

They say your name,

They make your name their own.

They smirk your name,

They cry your name,

They whisper it, alone.

Be careful the next time someone asks you for your name,

For once you give it out, it is never yours again.

Throughout the city, cults began to rise, calling themselves deciples of the persicuted child, and the sons and daughters of the new age, among many other names. Police units, being underfunded, and undermanned, could do little to stop them. The followers of the so called, new religion, predicted the day of Tyrant, and a new world to come, often blocking the already cluttered streets, chanting, dancing, and going to many drug induced states. Units could only disperse them, but they'd soon find other places to hold their meetings, and arests were few and far between, as often, police found themselves overpowered by the large crowds who would fight and die in the name of their new god.

Come and go, ebb and flow
fast and slow, time will go

the reality of truth,
will we ever know?

What does it mean, the feeling in  between
the good and the evil

Is there such a thing?
Or is it up to me, just to make believe?

Shakespeare said the worlds a stage,
sometimes I feel the world a plague

If I act a fool, if I act a king
if I take a gun and a sling
if I lose my mind to take a drink
or take a drink to lose my mind

does it matter, once we all die?
or am I just high? Please, can I get high?

In the land of sinners, the brothelsloth is King
coming and going, doing as I please

The more I know, the less I care
the less I care, the more I bear

I bear my soul, so that others may know
the lessons I learned, from life, my foe.

Speak the Word

Hope is a power,

An evil Devour.

Love is a song,

Steady and long.

Peace is a bird,

A flock above the herd.

Yet these Words will diminish,

Unless we do not Cower,

Unless we sound the Gong,

Unless we Speak the Word.