Poems About Emptiness Published by Members Recently Online
#emptiness
Poems about emptiness published by members recently online.
Wrong Place
I happen here by circumstance
That was not really my own
I happen here just by chance
And trying to make it my home
It is hard to fit an octagonal shape
Into a circle
Its hard to fit any shape
And not turn purple
Is it time for me to abandon a quest
That I was sent on by my own accord
Is it time for me to abandon this I guess
Time is a luxury I cannot afford.
A breeze went by like a blink of an eye
Never to look back
A breeze am I ready to fly
And never to come back.
That was not really my own
I happen here just by chance
And trying to make it my home
It is hard to fit an octagonal shape
Into a circle
Its hard to fit any shape
And not turn purple
Is it time for me to abandon a quest
That I was sent on by my own accord
Is it time for me to abandon this I guess
Time is a luxury I cannot afford.
A breeze went by like a blink of an eye
Never to look back
A breeze am I ready to fly
And never to come back.
#dark
#emptiness
68 reads
4 Comments
Wrong Place
I happen here by circumstance
That was not really my own
I happen here just by chance
And trying to make it my home
It is hard to fit an octagonal shape
Into a circle
Its hard to fit any shape
And not turn purple
Is it time for me to abandon a quest
That I was sent on by my own accord
Is it time for me to abandon this I guess
Time is a luxury I cannot afford.
A breeze went by like a blink of an eye
Never to look back
A breeze am I ready to fly
And never to come back.
That was not really my own
I happen here just by chance
And trying to make it my home
It is hard to fit an octagonal shape
Into a circle
Its hard to fit any shape
And not turn purple
Is it time for me to abandon a quest
That I was sent on by my own accord
Is it time for me to abandon this I guess
Time is a luxury I cannot afford.
A breeze went by like a blink of an eye
Never to look back
A breeze am I ready to fly
And never to come back.
#dark
#emptiness
68 reads
4 Comments
The mystery of morning
Thick socks fall in loops over ankles
displayed like the slipped towel of a naked back
pushed further down by a bashful hand,
innocent of the artists eye.
Pale hairy soleus protrude to
shuffle across cold cracked tiles
all silent but a hiss of burning gas,
the frightened kettle screeches a warning
and I appear outside in heavy frost.
Thick white mascara brushed onto cobwebs
that cantilever wooden slats.
This is where my spider goes
cold toes, cold toes, cold toes!
A bird has laid...
displayed like the slipped towel of a naked back
pushed further down by a bashful hand,
innocent of the artists eye.
Pale hairy soleus protrude to
shuffle across cold cracked tiles
all silent but a hiss of burning gas,
the frightened kettle screeches a warning
and I appear outside in heavy frost.
Thick white mascara brushed onto cobwebs
that cantilever wooden slats.
This is where my spider goes
cold toes, cold toes, cold toes!
A bird has laid...
#depression
#emptiness
#apathy
106 reads
2 Comments
The mystery of morning
Thick socks fall in loops over ankles
displayed like the slipped towel of a naked back
pushed further down by a bashful hand,
innocent of the artists eye.
Pale hairy soleus protrude to
shuffle across cold cracked tiles
all silent but a hiss of burning gas,
the frightened kettle screeches a warning
and I appear outside in heavy frost.
Thick white mascara brushed onto cobwebs
that cantilever wooden slats.
This is where my spider goes
cold toes, cold toes, cold toes!
A bird has laid...
displayed like the slipped towel of a naked back
pushed further down by a bashful hand,
innocent of the artists eye.
Pale hairy soleus protrude to
shuffle across cold cracked tiles
all silent but a hiss of burning gas,
the frightened kettle screeches a warning
and I appear outside in heavy frost.
Thick white mascara brushed onto cobwebs
that cantilever wooden slats.
This is where my spider goes
cold toes, cold toes, cold toes!
A bird has laid...
#depression
#emptiness
#apathy
106 reads
2 Comments
The mystery of morning
Thick socks fall in loops over ankles
displayed like the slipped towel of a naked back
pushed further down by a bashful hand,
innocent of the artists eye.
Pale hairy soleus protrude to
shuffle across cold cracked tiles
all silent but a hiss of burning gas,
the frightened kettle screeches a warning
and I appear outside in heavy frost.
Thick white mascara brushed onto cobwebs
that cantilever wooden slats.
This is where my spider goes
cold toes, cold toes, cold toes!
A bird has laid...
displayed like the slipped towel of a naked back
pushed further down by a bashful hand,
innocent of the artists eye.
Pale hairy soleus protrude to
shuffle across cold cracked tiles
all silent but a hiss of burning gas,
the frightened kettle screeches a warning
and I appear outside in heavy frost.
Thick white mascara brushed onto cobwebs
that cantilever wooden slats.
This is where my spider goes
cold toes, cold toes, cold toes!
A bird has laid...
#depression
#emptiness
#apathy
106 reads
2 Comments
The Competition
It wasn't obvious immediately
never a deliberate choice
but from childhood she knew
she was different
Exactly when she entered the competition
wasn't clear either
but as the fates gradually conspired
to unburden her of family and friends
and with human contact in an increasingly
automated world dwindling to virtual zero
she realised she was a front runner
Age made it easier to hone her solitary skills
diversionary activity became a tour-de-force
and contact avoidance a new science
until reclusive behavior fashioned
a...
never a deliberate choice
but from childhood she knew
she was different
Exactly when she entered the competition
wasn't clear either
but as the fates gradually conspired
to unburden her of family and friends
and with human contact in an increasingly
automated world dwindling to virtual zero
she realised she was a front runner
Age made it easier to hone her solitary skills
diversionary activity became a tour-de-force
and contact avoidance a new science
until reclusive behavior fashioned
a...
#emptiness
122 reads
8 Comments
AS I ORBIT THESE CITY SIDEWALKS (6-31-1990; San Diego, California)
all these hard city sidewalks
and streets
hot asphalt
and cracked broken concrete
measured by feelings
under my weak weary
tired stepping feet
bring long passed forgotten
ghost s histories
and their still resonantly lingering
echoing blues to mind
from all the varied me s and you s
who ve passed over these very same
paths walkways streets and roads before...
and streets
hot asphalt
and cracked broken concrete
measured by feelings
under my weak weary
tired stepping feet
bring long passed forgotten
ghost s histories
and their still resonantly lingering
echoing blues to mind
from all the varied me s and you s
who ve passed over these very same
paths walkways streets and roads before...
#identity
#memories
#SelfReflection
#FeelingLost
#emptiness
67 reads
0 Comments
AS I ORBIT THESE CITY SIDEWALKS (6-31-1990; San Diego, California)
all these hard city sidewalks
and streets
hot asphalt
and cracked broken concrete
measured by feelings
under my weak weary
tired stepping feet
bring long passed forgotten
ghost s histories
and their still resonantly lingering
echoing blues to mind
from all the varied me s and you s
who ve passed over these very same
paths walkways streets and roads before...
and streets
hot asphalt
and cracked broken concrete
measured by feelings
under my weak weary
tired stepping feet
bring long passed forgotten
ghost s histories
and their still resonantly lingering
echoing blues to mind
from all the varied me s and you s
who ve passed over these very same
paths walkways streets and roads before...
#identity
#memories
#SelfReflection
#FeelingLost
#emptiness
67 reads
0 Comments
AS I ORBIT THESE CITY SIDEWALKS (6-31-1990; San Diego, California)
all these hard city sidewalks
and streets
hot asphalt
and cracked broken concrete
measured by feelings
under my weak weary
tired stepping feet
bring long passed forgotten
ghost s histories
and their still resonantly lingering
echoing blues to mind
from all the varied me s and you s
who ve passed over these very same
paths walkways streets and roads before...
and streets
hot asphalt
and cracked broken concrete
measured by feelings
under my weak weary
tired stepping feet
bring long passed forgotten
ghost s histories
and their still resonantly lingering
echoing blues to mind
from all the varied me s and you s
who ve passed over these very same
paths walkways streets and roads before...
#identity
#memories
#SelfReflection
#FeelingLost
#emptiness
67 reads
0 Comments
AS I ORBIT THESE CITY SIDEWALKS (6-31-1990; San Diego, California)
all these hard city sidewalks
and streets
hot asphalt
and cracked broken concrete
measured by feelings
under my weak weary
tired stepping feet
bring long passed forgotten
ghost s histories
and their still resonantly lingering
echoing blues to mind
from all the varied me s and you s
who ve passed over these very same
paths walkways streets and roads before...
and streets
hot asphalt
and cracked broken concrete
measured by feelings
under my weak weary
tired stepping feet
bring long passed forgotten
ghost s histories
and their still resonantly lingering
echoing blues to mind
from all the varied me s and you s
who ve passed over these very same
paths walkways streets and roads before...
#identity
#memories
#SelfReflection
#FeelingLost
#emptiness
67 reads
0 Comments
AS I ORBIT THESE CITY SIDEWALKS (6-31-1990; San Diego, California)
all these hard city sidewalks
and streets
hot asphalt
and cracked broken concrete
measured by feelings
under my weak weary
tired stepping feet
bring long passed forgotten
ghost s histories
and their still resonantly lingering
echoing blues to mind
from all the varied me s and you s
who ve passed over these very same
paths walkways streets and roads before...
and streets
hot asphalt
and cracked broken concrete
measured by feelings
under my weak weary
tired stepping feet
bring long passed forgotten
ghost s histories
and their still resonantly lingering
echoing blues to mind
from all the varied me s and you s
who ve passed over these very same
paths walkways streets and roads before...
#identity
#memories
#SelfReflection
#FeelingLost
#emptiness
67 reads
0 Comments
A Starkness
One fallen, a likeness left behind
on ironed paper or screen
taunting one that still lives
as if one could die in far off land
there's no song in poetry
no rest from constant thoughts
no words carved intricate enough
to measure breaths of life exhaled
there's power in thoughts
Yet stuck in one place
one cannot gather beauty
in alphabets strung together like a pearl necklace
so one ponder on what could be
or the results of actions not taken
the mask of faces in smiles
rictus on face still alive.
on ironed paper or screen
taunting one that still lives
as if one could die in far off land
there's no song in poetry
no rest from constant thoughts
no words carved intricate enough
to measure breaths of life exhaled
there's power in thoughts
Yet stuck in one place
one cannot gather beauty
in alphabets strung together like a pearl necklace
so one ponder on what could be
or the results of actions not taken
the mask of faces in smiles
rictus on face still alive.
#despair
#denial
#emptiness
103 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Emptiness Published by Members Recently Online