Poetry competition CLOSED 24th January 2022 8:13am
WINNER
MrDunnePoetry (Mr_Dunne_Poetry)
MrDunnePoetry (Mr_Dunne_Poetry)
Mental Illness and Poetry
to be all right
i saw the colors depicted on the whitened walls
a prism of decorum in these imprisioned halls
refracted from the scalpel about to fall,
inner greed about to feed
letting go every drop i bleed
i await with the pain, to somehow dissipate
the hate, that harbors in the dark
to fall from the horizons of hell
where it all started or ended
writing names of the unwanted
awash within a striking red
to me, now and forever dead
I lay down exhausted and afraid
to speak an unspoken language
a body bare, mindless in flight
will it ever be all right?
a prism of decorum in these imprisioned halls
refracted from the scalpel about to fall,
inner greed about to feed
letting go every drop i bleed
i await with the pain, to somehow dissipate
the hate, that harbors in the dark
to fall from the horizons of hell
where it all started or ended
writing names of the unwanted
awash within a striking red
to me, now and forever dead
I lay down exhausted and afraid
to speak an unspoken language
a body bare, mindless in flight
will it ever be all right?
Written by JusTim_
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Empty Glamour
The red carpet looks extra bloody tonight
She steps out with demons hanging on her lackluster frame.
Bathed in the flashing lights, they wrap around her
Like a designer dress glittering in a fleeting moment of fame.
"Who are you wearing tonight?"
This addiction made it's head-turning entrance,
Accesorized with a thousand pages of psychology articles
To give the outfit a little extra something special
While we mix and match disorders.
Winging it with all the skill of a buffoon
That won't take good advice.
The maladaptive daydreaming creeps back in
As she fades out amongst all the fuss.
The conversation, the crowd, and her own thoughts
Are suddenly much too loud;
They walk through her mind
Banging pots and pans
Just to let her know she's not alone.
Names spoken seem to linger in the air
As poignantly if they were stapled to her skin,
But the red carpet is a sham.
The extravagance blinds all who see.
Everyone is walking this walk
Like living billboards for their designer labels.
At the worlds mercy, they put us into best and worst dressed
With the tag line
"Who wore it best?"
The woman who swallows her unfaithful husband and melancholy
With her prescription pills behind closed doors
Is sure to charm with her put together picture.
Across town, there's a woman having her daily round
Of slamming doors, throwing things, and kicking him out,
And all will shake their heads when he comes back every time.
Addiction and daddy issues
Come in a one size fits all
That looks different on everyone.
What are you wearing today?
She steps out with demons hanging on her lackluster frame.
Bathed in the flashing lights, they wrap around her
Like a designer dress glittering in a fleeting moment of fame.
"Who are you wearing tonight?"
This addiction made it's head-turning entrance,
Accesorized with a thousand pages of psychology articles
To give the outfit a little extra something special
While we mix and match disorders.
Winging it with all the skill of a buffoon
That won't take good advice.
The maladaptive daydreaming creeps back in
As she fades out amongst all the fuss.
The conversation, the crowd, and her own thoughts
Are suddenly much too loud;
They walk through her mind
Banging pots and pans
Just to let her know she's not alone.
Names spoken seem to linger in the air
As poignantly if they were stapled to her skin,
But the red carpet is a sham.
The extravagance blinds all who see.
Everyone is walking this walk
Like living billboards for their designer labels.
At the worlds mercy, they put us into best and worst dressed
With the tag line
"Who wore it best?"
The woman who swallows her unfaithful husband and melancholy
With her prescription pills behind closed doors
Is sure to charm with her put together picture.
Across town, there's a woman having her daily round
Of slamming doors, throwing things, and kicking him out,
And all will shake their heads when he comes back every time.
Addiction and daddy issues
Come in a one size fits all
That looks different on everyone.
What are you wearing today?
Written by KittyFromHell
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Night Writer
Riding on life's coasters and holding on tight
Having occasional dips then I rise to the light
Writing helps me fight & remain in the game
Chasing after serenity with no aims for fame
Trying to tame tidal waves approaching shore
Rising tsunamis knock down cerebral doors
Closing em's a chore when their hinges get loose
Causing sanity to flip then ride in the caboose
Having occasional dips then I rise to the light
Writing helps me fight & remain in the game
Chasing after serenity with no aims for fame
Trying to tame tidal waves approaching shore
Rising tsunamis knock down cerebral doors
Closing em's a chore when their hinges get loose
Causing sanity to flip then ride in the caboose
Written by da_poetic-edifier
(Damon)
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Relapse
Oh no, I
Almost broke.
Today was centimeters
Away from breaking me,
And then there go two months
Of recovery.
The scars are still there,
Faded, yet there.
Today I wanted to add
More.
But my arms are just
Scarred, and I'm two months
Clean.
I just hope I can make it to three.
Almost broke.
Today was centimeters
Away from breaking me,
And then there go two months
Of recovery.
The scars are still there,
Faded, yet there.
Today I wanted to add
More.
But my arms are just
Scarred, and I'm two months
Clean.
I just hope I can make it to three.
Written by applepieand_books
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what i got from your poem is that labeling creates an empty glamour whether your being labeled as good bad pretty ugly etc. by society. a pathology of a fear of emotional psychological and physical pain with a proffesion of being above peoples stigma of you and their views thoughts opinions and yet a reluctance towards a positive sense of self esteem which can change simply by not caring what others think. what others think is often times less than what is real and tangible. i would wear your honor proudly because you are a wonderful poet.
Where my wild things are...
It crawls and slithers
picking - picking
reopening mental scabs
that never seem to heal,
quite right
Echoes intermittently reverberate
punctuating emptiness
honed claws scratch from inside
out
hurting again
that habitual hurt
Uneasiness leads to
nervousness that slips
without warning
fueling a propensity...
for
inexplicable panic
Pressures— made or born
put-upon
wired in ways
that cross confuse
tangling thoughts
which contort actions
intended or spontaneous
Hidden rustling
between blackish
nooks and crannies,
where light penetrates not
finds an endless harvesting
Additions to the collection
building vast amounts
of utterly damaged
emotional artillery
Binging...from a blackened shadow
Animalistically crude
and ferociously wild
prowls dangerous
all these, my abyssal feral monsters
Where drifting amidst dank insecurity
so starved.... hungering...
is one reality
of brutal beckoning
lying underneath the surface
So, I hold tight to strength
will power and a learned understanding
Keeping lean,
my wild things.... roaming.
Written by Bluevelvete
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Silent Soul
To admit that I am emotionally destroyed is simple.
I still remember the calm beauty and unconditional love it carried, before my soul became silent.
It’s been 14 years.
It shredded every time another unconscionable human seized the chance to prey on a lady attempting to heal.
Each crack. Each attack. Unnerved at how much I lacked. Learning that the sound of my fear is silent.
Scars ascended and descended smothering the foundation of my soul.
There are no words to scribe what I feel in the hollows. Every time I return.
My life is observational and outside the explanation inside of a dictionary.
It is a kaleidoscope of imagery that is undefined.
Today I am spinning off the lens.
I still remember the calm beauty and unconditional love it carried, before my soul became silent.
It’s been 14 years.
It shredded every time another unconscionable human seized the chance to prey on a lady attempting to heal.
Each crack. Each attack. Unnerved at how much I lacked. Learning that the sound of my fear is silent.
Scars ascended and descended smothering the foundation of my soul.
There are no words to scribe what I feel in the hollows. Every time I return.
My life is observational and outside the explanation inside of a dictionary.
It is a kaleidoscope of imagery that is undefined.
Today I am spinning off the lens.
Written by Lagertha
(Elizabeth Grace)
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Deep SPACE.
I Silently Observe,
The Chaotic Shadow,
On my back.
My back2front,paranoid,Jungian face.
That never gets heard.
I'm a broken place.
Resident in deep,deep,Space.
I constantly struggle 2 fit in this World.
©Wired6. 21/1/2022
The Chaotic Shadow,
On my back.
My back2front,paranoid,Jungian face.
That never gets heard.
I'm a broken place.
Resident in deep,deep,Space.
I constantly struggle 2 fit in this World.
©Wired6. 21/1/2022
Written by Wired6
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Another sleepless night
I’m awake even though I shouldn’t be,
No one knows the affect it has on me.
My eyes may be tired and my body may be weak,
But I can’t help it if my brain won’t let me sleep.
The air from the fan bouncing off these plain walls is the only sound,
Well the only one that can be heard aloud.
Like an iPod on repeat Inside of my head memories play,
My mistakes and failures linger around like predators stalking their prey.
I’ve hated myself for awhile,
Even though on the outside you see a smile.
I hate that I feel this way I try so hard to escape,
Pretending to eat the food on my plate.
Skipping meals and loosing weight.
I feel like I deserve the pain,
More scars and despair are the only things I seem to gain.
Written by TrueLover
(Meganne)
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Mental
These days everyone acts like they care,
and in all honesty we're all screwed in the head.
Some more than others, sure, that's always the
case, but after this write I'm going to go and stare
at the sky to ask it why I'm feeling like this. And I'm
sure she'll say "well, because that's how it goes"
Yeah, that's what I thought, but I sometimes think
that I'll get a different answer this time. Who is there?
No one of course, life isn't fair, so I'll just run away
from my problems for now until I can trust someone
else to open up and give myself to the tears sure to erupt.
These days everyone acts like they care,
and in all honesty we're all screwed in the head.
Some more than others, sure, that's always the
case, but after this write I'm going to go and stare
at the sky to ask it why I'm feeling like this. And I'm
sure she'll say "well, because that's how it goes"
Yeah, that's what I thought, but I sometimes think
that I'll get a different answer this time. Who is there?
No one of course, life isn't fair, so I'll just run away
from my problems for now until I can trust someone
else to open up and give myself to the tears sure to erupt.
Nicotine Drenched
I feel it in my bones.
I hear it in my voice.
I see it in my face.
I taste it in my mouth.
“Do I make it a simple ending or do I remain?”
I’m gone, I feel wrecked.
I’m lost, I feel stretched out past my limits.
Death weighs heavy on my brain.
My soul is beyond repair.
MY mind has begun to fade.
I can no longer differentiate
night and day, it’s all thrown away into a blur, A hazy abyss.
I’ve crucified myself.
My Hands are shaking.
My soul is breaking.
My Face goes numb.
Everything collapses into one.
I can’t find the air I used to breathe.
Nothing has healed, and it’s all too much.
I hear it in my voice.
I see it in my face.
I taste it in my mouth.
“Do I make it a simple ending or do I remain?”
I’m gone, I feel wrecked.
I’m lost, I feel stretched out past my limits.
Death weighs heavy on my brain.
My soul is beyond repair.
MY mind has begun to fade.
I can no longer differentiate
night and day, it’s all thrown away into a blur, A hazy abyss.
I’ve crucified myself.
My Hands are shaking.
My soul is breaking.
My Face goes numb.
Everything collapses into one.
I can’t find the air I used to breathe.
Nothing has healed, and it’s all too much.
Written by Human4685
(Lowry Cannalte)
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