Uncertainty

Write a poem on why or how uncertain you are about something or somone
Could be about any uncertainty you've had in life
( dealing with love, hate, jealousy, sex, not knowing what to do, feel or think about something, yourself ect.)
You can take this topic anywhere really, just has to be about uncertainty.

-2 Poems per poet.
- No collabs
- reposts are ok.
-Not to long, not too short.
-two weeks!

The Path of Vengeance.

Breathing heavily
as my heart beats in turn,
head bowed and forearms
placed on my knees.
Draining empty
a bottle of water,
as sweat drips
from my brow.
Rise
Clenching my fists again.
Throwing combinations
uppercuts and hooks.
Elbows and knees.
Connecting to the punching bag
and visualising my enemy
humbled me and claimed what was mine.
My War comes full circle.

For so long has this defined each day.
Honour and pride push me forward.
Without fear
what can one overcome?
That single moment
playing through my head,
like a broken tape.
I am not
my failures
And I will overcome.
My self belief has always been tested
But never like this..
Overwhelmed the first time
and cast aside
a broken man.

Fast forward to the show
practising those combinations
again.
My team beside me
as I punch open the doors
and walk on through the
screaming crowd.
A tribal feeling
the Cage looming before me
still drenched in blood
from previous battles.
My enemy pacing through the cage.
He will never win again.
I am finally sure
and certainity is on my side.

Raising my fist to the crowd
The second war begins,
as the bell rings.
Removing all restraints
charging in
fueled with emotion
and hatred.
Vengeance comes to me
swiftly delivered
as the
flying knee
I have just connected
to that fucker's jaw.

http://b.vimeocdn.com/ts/372/844/372844912_640.jpg

UNCERTAINTY

Uncertainty follows us
From the trauma of our birth
To the final acceptance of death
Life is not secure
It usually is a mess

Children want to grow
Adults want to stay young
The ground beneath us begins to shake
Keeps shaking all life along
Trying to maintain our balance
Tests even the hardy and the strong

My life has been
An eternal search
For the security
And comfort
Of a home

I thought I had found it with a husband
I thought I had found it with a career
I lost everything I fought for
Even people who I thought
Loved me and held me dear

The quest for security
Nevertheless drives me on
Luck only lends
It does not stay
Luck will not see you through the day

Neither will intelligence, looks or money
They all fade or are taken away
Leaving us to look only to our faith
To make it one more day.

Thank you for the competition.
Kitty

Stuck In The Middle


Last line first
I'm in the middle of something here
should have started at the beginning
now there are two directions
and I have to choose which one


Maybe if I tie a rope around my waist
I will find my way back
if it's the wrong choice that is
or is it not that simple?


Stuck in the middle out of my mind
maybe I should grab a chair
and just stay put
never moving until I die
and rot back to the earth

~sigh~


First line last
written in mistakes and bad memories
they shouldn't still be there
at the end
let them go back to where they came from


Stuck in the middle with more of a clue
I side step
and hope the ground doesn't swallow me

When I wake , my first thought. What is my purpose in life. Have you ever thought that? Bet you have. I just plod on . Jack of all trades. Master of none. My day begins. Uncertain...

Abstract~

What the hell am I doing here?
I been lost for some time now and I'm so full of Fear.
Fear of losing myself inside a place so cold,
Fear of fading away before my life unfolds.
Fear that the one love I have left in life,
Will leave me to my loneliness, leave me to my strife.
Fear that, in these states of mind, I'll lose control,
And nothing will be left of me, or of my mortal soul.
Fear that I'm just nobody to every one of you,
Its fear that drives most everything I do...
What the hell am I doing here?
All I ever want these days is just to disappear.
Evaporate into the fog and blow someplace real far,
Or, maybe I'll shoot for the Sky and fall unto a Star.
Maybe I'll just lay outside and let the cold take me,
Take my fears of loneliness and send me into Sleep,
Where I will dream of memories that just wont seem to fade,
And fear will ever be something I managed to evade.
Maybe I'll just drift away and slowly go insane,
Cast myself into the pit and free myself from pain...
What the hell am I doing here?
Everything's distorted, I no longer see things clear.
It's like an abstract painting hanging on the wall,
Really could be anything, but it's nothing at all.
Just illusions stuffed inside your mind,
So you always have something to find.
It may be old, may be new,
But what you find is never true.
It's just a game that we're all forced to play.
What illusions will we find today?...
What the hell am I doing here?
What makes me want to stay with Paradise so near?

To an Uncertain Freedom

Sheaves of papers on my hands
Cascades of tears from my eyes
Trembling knees and more so hands
Signed the names on dotted lines
With that tremble-y flourish
I sealed my fate

Standing alone on the lonely garden
Saw traces that marked his handiwork
Lush flowers blooming, those he liked
Red and yellow against green walls
Nodding petunias on little pots
I turned away, started to weep

I wish I did not sign the papers of freedom
I wish I can still have him to hold
To love, to listen to, to scold
I wish I was not so uncertain
About the wisdom of my choice
To be shackled in love and bitterness
Or unshackled free with loneliness

Mercurial
Mercurial Ephemeral
gossamer current state
transient, time gallops away like horses
The present is a pigeon at your feet
If you try to keep  a hold of it,it'll fly away.
You and me, we are decimal points in the incomprehensable infinity
a longitude and latitude on an atlas 13.7 Billion miles wide
in a story of 3.7 billion pages.
"A good traveler has no fixed plans "
you try to catch a butterfly
and it disintegrates into powder in your hand
Everything changes,Everything is fleeting
everything ends
that's not pessimism
that's just the harsh product of my experience

Despair

-watching your desires pass you by
still believing you can achieve them
-calling you to the day of the show
only to cancel it in your face
-assuring you success with impeccable failure
-slaving for years to find
the tree of your fruits cut down
-promising commitment that doesn't involve you
-waking up to find your life as empty as your head
-then, asking yourself the purpose of this life
-destroying expectations that would spring new hope
-forced to give up your dreams for a life of mediocrity
-bound to a heart full of regret and anguish

-there is no multitude of physical suffering that can replace;
true despair - is when you realize that being dead is easier than staying alive.

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/91073.jpg

ALEaviNgO!


All around the kissing and holding of hands but not you.
Not you in the corner nursing a developing angst.
a brooding puberty of  barren seculsion.
Who have you got?
Where's the Oasis?
Strangers aren't giving you the time of day
they don't give a fuck about what you have to say
they just want you to go the fuck away.
Feels like Solipstic hell
Once you had surety ,didn't you?
Someone to talk to on the road home
someone to hold in the dark...
There are no guarantees, no certainties
Once you're in the forest, an strong oak among the trees
next minute you can be a single sapling blowing in the breeze.
Sad bastards suffering more than you, would probably take you home
for more than chat
but what's the point in that????!!!
-they only care about getting off.
me desperate for a meeting of minds
afflicted by a  affection deficiency
It's all up for grabs and you haven't got a chance.
Everyone's gone to bed,you're left in the company of your thoughts and street light.
Defanged and dethroned,it's mastery is tamed.
No one is to be blamed.
Solitude.Serenity.Slumber from society.Civilization break.
You are the thorn in your side.

At the edge of worlds

It was never supposed to happen.
It was never meant to come
to that crashing nexus in time
where everything was so sprawled
and scattered and exploded
and spilling out of our arms
as we desperately tried to contain it
and carry it with grace,
and so human, and alive
and at the same time so very
crystalline in its perfection,
its clarity,
ten thousand scattered muddy pixels
(wretched slippery parcels)
but a sharp, crisp picture
on the whole.
It was never meant to come to that.
But here we are, that crossroads
of life, and not life, and nothing in between
but a dirty corner between two roads
with two one-way signs leading off
to two very different cities,
and nobody here but you and I
and everything about "us"
draped around us.
We were always "us,"
but that was before
and this is a one-way street
and the light's about to turn.
There'll be plenty of time later
to look back down that one-way lane
and say with wizened authority
that it was right or wrong
to take the path we did,
but right now,
here and now
there's you and I
and "us"
and two different roads
with a right and a wrong
(or two wrongs? who'd know)
and never a map. I rev the engine.
The moment has passed.
It's time to go.




http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/41392-at-the-edge-of-worlds/

some kind of looped up in a black box  (the final trap?)

just feeling unconvinced by my latest thought            
i tried to find a better one                              
but it seems like i'm bound to this region unexplored      
to where all my thinking runs                              

i can't stop heading for the very question mark            
which disappears when i arrive                        
although to me my mind seems neither black nor dark            
it looks like i'll stay blind for life                        

it seems there is a lot not in the way it seems            
the only way that we can go                              
our very consciousness is of course no stream            
but how to think of such a flow                        

that is closer than anything else could ever be                        
but consequently put aside                              
like a blind spot whose blindness just enables me            
since looking harder means to hide                        

it seems there is a lot not in the way it seems            
the only way that we can go                              
our very consciousness is hopefully no dream            
but how to think of such a show

A paradox does lie below
Since many wise men claimed to know:
All spoken truth is doomed to fail
Cause every word works like a veil
Just hiding what is meant by it
As soon as we try to decrypt
     Cause every meaning’s far beyond our wit

And as a consequence of that
They don’t know what they really said
Cause every thought they claimed they had
Can make its thinker really mad
     Who tries to analyze its sense instead
Of going on or just ahead
     Cause every logic is a truth born dead

All logic is a severed head
So paradoxes are no threat
Since they can help because they show
That we can’t say what we do know
Although we do it all the time
As long as we don’t determine
     Cause we destroy the truth that we define

And truth would be a living thing
If words could leave their twisted string
     That dooms all thoughts to keep on wondering

She ripped my soul out years ago.
She says she wants me back.

I risk, with leap of faith to her, 
Relief  from being alone.
Engagement ring on her hand,
The plans they start to grow

Sunday night I call to her, 
fore i am feeling loathsome .
I since something's wrong that night

I drive to her out of fear,
Fear things unwholesome .
Old tapes play as my mind takes flight.

Red flags ignored in time gone by.
Resulting pains addictions arise.

Drive to town with a lover she lies.
Uncertainty answered!
A piece of heart dies.