Poetry competition CLOSED 13th August 2021 4:16am
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Moments of Darkness (Poetic Device)

poet Anonymous

I have nothing to say

So what am I supposed to do right now?
Forget and delete everything that I have felt with you?

The spiral tried to get me in its grief and victimhood but no.
I saw you in me.
I saw that part of me that was screaming for attention. And the way I have been treating it, is the same with yours towards me. This is a mirroring reflection...My freedom and purity wants to be embodied in me but I am running away from them.

What the fuck am I saying?
This is rediculous. I'm brainwashed and naive.
There is no such thing as true love.

Then I say, this is all a joke. Don't take things too seriously.
Am I pushing my true feelings to the uncoscious?
I have tried the autopilot method to overcome pain and it works.
But you keep coming back into my mind.
The first reaction used to be a tear and a sudden wave of pain in my chest.
Maybe weaping. Cursing angels and gods.
This is the spiral. It goes nowhere.
So I try to think how small we are. How pointless all may seem one day.
I try to be present.
Fuck, this doesn't work all the time either.

Time is the most tyrant healer.
It promises what won't matter when it arrives.
It takes away your control and intoduce you to its own laws.
Time can let you suffer eternally.
This would be a good moment to reclaim power.

I don't know if I will ever be able to get you out of my thoughts.
Maybe you will fade away but as I write this I feel a thuder on my heart that says no.
Is it illusion?
Why is this happening?
What is left to see is what my paranoid thoughts will manifest.
It's either chaos or ultimate peace.
I try to remember and focus on the blessings.
But then I feel stupid.
Why do I give myself like that?
I must hate her guts.
It's tragic.
I start with neutral mode and then dive into pain, then burn with anger, before I begin to feel nuts and have random thoughts of stupid new age terms.
I want love like this no more, thank you.
I want out of this delusion.

But yet, here I am looking at your face and letting myself shatter into million pieces.
I must never come across to your imagery. It's so painful. I don't understand the lesson. I don't want to learn it. I don't care.
I care of nothing. I just breathe by instinct, move around the house like a robot performing its daily activities. It's hard to forgive myself.

"Why do you cry?", the realist is laughing at me.
'You were aware of that might happen".
"Fuck off", the spiritual junkie says.
"All will pass", I hear a warm voice that brings some relief.
"I want to die right now", my scared old persona declares.

I shut all my aspects down.
Who is in control of my brain?
Who is in control of my life?
I believed in us so much..again..this is what hurts me the most.
My stupidity.
My lack of awareness to have no expectations.
My fucking weakness is you, just as you are my empowerment.
I want to leave this place.
I want to live... I have no will to live.
What keeps me going?
Is there a god? Fuck you!
Did I choose this? I'm more mad to myself than ever.
Is there a fate? Cause and effect? Fuck those too!

Bring me some darkness so I cannot see.
I have no eyes. Neither has my soul.
I don't need light, nor the sun.
Bring me some fire, my body is lit.
I'll hypnotize it with smoke, promote it with wisdom, †dress it with cum.
I'll punish the whore that won this lifetime.
She'll have no feelings, just mere sensations.
I'll let her write and play her guitar, I'll treat her some amnesia remedies.
I'll buy her a vision, a popular one.

This delusion is safer.
Yours is killing me. And you're not even in it.
Where are you? Who are you?
Are you my revenge?
Are you my punishment?
What have I done?

As I observe all from a slightly higher perspective I feel you close to me.
But I fear this is †a false frame of my fantasy.
I can't risk anymore.
I'm tired. I start whining like a little baby. I immediately stop myself.
No more drama.
Anger doesn't serve me either.
I would love the possibility of knowing what the hell is wrong with me.

poet Anonymous

Inches Before Zero

"It's always over
before it ends...
The only variable is
the illusion of distance...",

she thought

as she closed the door
behind her...
poet Anonymous

My Jury

An hour of administering impressant..    
Follows the next with a depressant.. † † † †
†† † † †
† † † †
Completing a consistent twenty four hour cycle.. † † †  
A food chain?  † †  
Life or a food web cycle.. †
Call it.. †
By chance I survive by some miracle.. † † †  
† † † †
Know this, in what I do, I am being a hell of an actor.. † † †  
Neither the act.. † †
And fuck the fact.. † †  
This is a factor.. † † † †
† †  
Persistent bipolar disorder.. † † †  
Stranded in a land of thunder.. † † †  
† † †
Oh!.. † † †  
† †  
You well aware Alice we are well outside the realm of wonder.. † † †  
Something concrete building inside my head like the bricklayers reaching the linter.. † † †  
† † † †
One in town.. † † † †  
In chess a pawn? † † †  
I am not your whistle blower.. † † † †
Nor is this a ringer.. † † †  
† † † †
Still alive am just so very lucky.. † † †  
It doesn't sound funny.. † † †  
Like Oliver I'm so hungry.. † † † †
Going with the famous request; † † †  
My throat is sore.. † † †  
"Please sir, I want some more" . † † †  
†† † †
Dear Jury, †
Or should I say bullies? †
Nobody can have a clue.. † † †  
As to what is my motive.. † † †  
† † † †
Reaching a certain point.. † † † †
Muscles twitching I can feel it in my body joints.. † † †  
The pills.. † † †  
Abnormal range.. † † †  
In what I engage.. † † †  
Everyone's can notice I act strange.. † † †  
† † † †
Whether a complainant or a defendant.. † † †
My shell's not a hell.. † † † †
A shield's how I use my shell.. † † †  
† † †  
Are you one among any of my jury.. † †  
I don't care your verdict.. † †
Nor my affidavit.. †  
You are not so lucky..
† † †  
† †
†††††††††††††††††††††††††† † †Yours †  
††††††††††††††††††††††† † †Mollusc Man †  
†††††††††††††††††††††††††† † Signed
poet Anonymous


every night i point a finger at my skull  
and pull an imaginary trigger  


i imagine my fingernail  
is a razor  
and drag it  
across my radial pulse  

last night  
i pushed the accelerator  
to the floor  
and watched the needle climb  

i waited for the blue light  
before i turned the wheel  
and headed for a tree

that way i didn't have to die alone
poet Anonymous

The Boneyard

We lay mangled
By some unseen hand
Well, I saw it
I donít know if you did
Did you see your lion?
I turn my head
I canít make eye contact
You walk away
Always stronger than I
No one can see what we carry
No one can see what we hold
It is as dark as the darkest night
I know, clichť right?
But reallyÖ
Some dark nights offer respite
When the lions donít come
But some dark nights just let them come
Whoís really in charge?
I canít raise my arms
I canít move my legs
So, I surely cannot walk away
Or carry myself to another place
As you have
We lay splintered
By some crazed lunatic
Who called it love
Filthy encrusted bone sucking vampires
Who didnít know the difference
Between soft love and harsh love
Or maybe didnít even know
Love at all?
My architecture burns
Pelvis to shoulder
I need to run away from you
Maybe become another,
But I cannot
Do you even know why I cannot?
You drive me deeper into the woods
The woods where lions dwell
You draw them to us
With the cold stone that is your heart
Do you even have a heart?
I am thirsty
We lay dismembered
Well not you, but me
You already walked away
You were so much younger
The rocks from the road hadnít yet
Filled your soul
Drug you down
All the way down
At the bottom where I struggle
And cringe at the sound
Of ripping meat
Within lionís teeth
Red muscles tearing apart
My eyes like headlights
No longer turning on
Do yours turn on?
Probably not
My silhouette isnít even here with me
Neither is my shadow
They have both left me
Crumpled like trash
We lay camouflaged
Me and all my others
Labeled as dead
My skull in the rubble of your
So called love
My skin peeling away like a snake
Teeth falling out, falling around
Is this what you meant to do?
Donít worry, I canít feel it
When you wade in the gap
That you created
Is this your paradise?
There are no palm trees
No ocean breeze
Only raspy asthmatic breathing
And trails of dried up tears
Leading toward the dry cracked earth
Where your knees bend and settle
Push and release
Where your anger sits and festers
Indistinguishable from your
Other emotions
If you have them at all
My poetry is poison
Telling everyone of your ways
One day the poison will reach you
Fill you
Youíll feel it slowly
Starting in your fingertips
Or maybe esophagus
Where your voice sits
Hands still
Actually still
No longer digging into the earth
Bringing forth the warmth and spilling it
Into the chapped cracks
Where I lay mangled.
poet Anonymous

Rock Bottom

I have dreams, I fear nightmares, but I don't see either.
I'm wide awake at the dead of night, I have a sleep eater.
It's been a quarter of a century so far, and it won't get easier.
I'm slowly dying inside, collapsing faster than a meteor.

Yeah, I'm free falling and this is not a hypnic jerk.
Got pushed off cloud nine, the test flight didn't work.
Landed at rock bottom and it really hurt.
Broke to pieces, now I have less worth.

I fear that I won't be able to put myself back together.
I fear that the coming years won't get any better.
I fear that I'll continue to crumble under all the pressure.
Never take flight like a bird with broken wing and no feathers.

What keeps me going is my own kind of perfect.
But then my own kind of perfect started to worsen.
And when my own kind of perfect worsened, it turned worthless.
Leaving me feeling worthless, and realizing that I'm not worth it.

It's curtains for me if I do not decide to act fast.
But how do I act when there is nothing I'm good at?
There is no need to polish cracked glass.
Don't wanna be unpleasant to look at.

I want to be someone all of you can be proud of seeing.
But someone you are ashamed of is what I've wound up being.
I don't want to be someone all of you stop needing.
I don't want to see all those I love end up leaving.

I can no longer stand this.
I am lost like the city of Atlantis.
But with a little bit of determination and practice.
I could be so much more than this.

My sun has gone down, but I shouldn't worry and complain.
I'll do my best while I wait for the light to come back again.
The rock bottom won't always be my domain.
Happiness is something I certainly will retain.

poet Anonymous

Those Which Inspire

Images arrive, carried on colors and patterns
not of this world, nor any other I've known:
demons Hell-forged, angels Heaven-sent  
word-entwined emotions, dancing snowflakes

My incessant need builds into a constant ache  
evolves rapidly, devouring my focus;
I submit, captive conduit, willing and passive  

Theyíre accompanied by angelic chorus
desiring benevolence if I am fortunate
Should They prove bloody, merciless  
my soul is shredded, consumed by darkness  

Either way, I am Their patient without anesthesia:  
Their voice, devoted slave, pliant recipient-  
Without Them, nothing is worth the price of life
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