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Crying WordsPages become torn
When the tears are reborn
Old wasted ideas
Crumble to the floor

Just another love poemThis is quite informal,
But let me say it here.
This poem is about
What I hold most dear.

A few simple words from him
Can make me feel so glad.
And when he insults me,
I don't even feel that mad.

I'm the girl who made the vow -
To never fall for someone.
My heart once woven tightly,
Has suddenly become undone.

Nostalgiashe fell in love with the sound of
dying storms, and lost herself in
the blind spots accompanying her
every furtive glance

her downturned spine labeled her:
pitiful,
and her relentless divulging to
overcast skies defined her as
needy; but still she offered the
seeds of her pomegranate heart
to anyone willing to settle down
inside the breeze

and she was abandoned, long ago,
(once upon a time, no one cried)
by wolves with insipid fangs
and human eyes (her glittery irises
never quite belonged)
they discarded her when she asked if
self-delusions were a state of mind

and
she is poorly veiled, so see-through under
our cracke

Writers Block WoeThere was a man who loved to write
But one day words wouldn't come out right
Try as he may he'd lost his touch
And so he gave up his poetry crutch

As time flew by his magic vanished
The aching hole within kept his mind famished
Inside he ached to try once more
To let words flow like they had before

His progress kept his spirits down
In the mirror he saw a literature clown
This wasn't enough to make him stop
He had to plant so he could harvest the crop

Eventually his writing talent grew
And he was hit by something he already knew
The skill he'd possessed hadn't faded away
It was his motivation he'd allowed to decay

So don't let writers blo

Missing Pieces.I am a missing piece. Something that someone needs.
But at the same time, I feel so incomplete.
I’ve wandered way too far, wondered for far too long
Am I a missing piece? Or a piece that won’t belong?

Is it possible I’m damaged and not missing at all?
That I’m just as dysfunctional as everybody else?
Pretending to be perfect never softened a single fall.
But neither did admitting that you’re broken and flawed.

A broken missing piece. Is that all I’m meant to be?
There is no master plan that includes the likes of me.
Being all alone, it’s a hurt that will not cease.
A hundred thousand years from now

Writer's blockInspiration.

What does one even think of?
A monster, rabid, bubbling with froth?
Stars that dance across the night's sky?
Perhaps some psychic business, one's third eye?

Or perhaps something related to blood,
slicing one's veins and arteries to cause a flood?
Maybe, just maybe - a love story?
Where we create and reminisce in an old memory.

Let's take a leap of faith, be extra innovative:
Combine all these stories... into something creative.
A monster that rides the stars across the night's sky
and a psychic that needs blood over their third eye?

Veins and arteries that cause a loving flood
of one's emotions and of course, crimson blood

Fairy Tales"Fairy Tales"

At the end of the final chapter
Most stories end happily after
Enchanted evenings; dreams coming true
Believing in magic; it could happen to you

Fairy tales fuel our dormant fires
Romantic films quench our inner desires
Demons become friends; fun times never end
Must be nice to live in a realm of pretend

That's not how things work in the real world
The hero doesn't always win his girl
People pass away; buildings crumble and fall
Cinderella's mice in reality would be mauled

Teacups don't sing; at least none that I know
Carpets can't glide through the wind's blow
Crabs do not dance; that is really absurd
Animals can't talk; at

Opposable Positions.Opposable Positions.

So if...

Good girls are really bad girls that never got caught

And

Kings and queens are insecure people that hide behind their forts.

Then

Survivors are cowards that run away when they could’ve fought.

Which means

Celebrities are strategists and opportunists that utilise their thoughts

And

Teachers are failures who couldn’t make use of the lessons life taught.

It would seem then you are either one way or the other.

There is fine undefined line between enemies and lovers.

So pick and choose wisely when deciding what side you are on.

Because you can never know the person you one day might become.

You Are The Writer"You Are The Writer"

Speak to me through works of gallant poetry
Tell me of your fears and woes; goals and misery
Let syllables flow through use of rhymes and words
Let your voice be raised a pitch to sounds you never heard

Tell me of your troubled times through the use of fiction
Mask the pain in metaphors, prayers, and benedictions
You are the writer and the soul of the one you've come to know
Why not give your tale a happy ending before it's time to go?

Through the use of monologues, you can tell a ton
Like how you stunned the King or how your race was won
But maybe you prefer to give your tale a twist
The frog doesn't have to be a prin

Adoring what you haven't seenUp until now, adoring what you haven't seen,
After today, it'll be as If you have never been,
They will cry for you, assuming sorrow for the loss,
In their hearts they long for you, jaded with anger at the cost.

Speak a soft eulogy, the life spoken about, much harsher,
This life was a cancer to you, And faith, the reason.
Now he has died, with weeping angels does he stay.
I always came across seemingly lost within my way.
A mask to cover So I no longer have to stay,
Fate doesn't decree anything from me:
Living for passion, filling eternity.

50. Pride of a PeoplePride of a people
Death of a culture

We came from those that risked their life
To make way for all our freedom
Those that broke their back
For our economy to prosper
Those that did not see the potential
That we saw in ourselves

We are descendants of the salt pickers
Not sugar growers
Or vegetable sewers
But distinguished knowers
That made us different and special from the rest

Pride of a people
Death of a culture

We are fantastically French and delightfully Dutch
We are of both nations and of one mind
We are united always regardless of time
We stand strong, we stand together facing the tide

We are united because we are St. Martin

P

RevisionBeauty comes
three times over.
Once from the soul,
second from the heart,
third from the mind,
and this we call revision.

I want to loveI want to love.
That feeling found,
In the space between,
Hope and innocence.
That feeling found,
Flying in the voice of beauty,
Wandering the connections of two bodies embraced.
If love was or is a fire,
Then why have I never felt its warmth?
Where is the map, compass or signal for my love GPS?
I thought that if the coordinates were set,
This would be easy,

It wasn't.

It still isn't.

Never has easy been this hard,
Love is seen but seldom captured,
It's in the moments,
When time is told to wait,
For an image, thought or kiss,
To happen.

These words were constructed,
By a calloused mind,
And a bruised memory,
The scars

Light of InspirationIn the dark for so long
Dirty windows shut tight
No hope to be found
Resisting with all my might

Then like a flip of a switch
Or a plug pushed in
The light comes on above
And I begin to believe again

Now hazy sunlight filters
Through the open window of me
And a new dream sets in,
Working to be what it wants to be

So please just keep smiling
Because you're my light some how
And one day I'll thank you—
Cause you're my inspiration right now

Free SpeechWhat does it mean to be free?
Can you explain it to me?
What's the point to a better life,
When I see greed feasting on my future,
So now I suffer under the yokes of strife.

What does it mean to be free?
Am I too blind to really see?
Is there any reason for my liberty,
Am I to be punished for the mistakes of my past,
Must I endure under this toil of poverty.

What does it mean to be free?
How can I escape this horror to flee?
Why am I intoxicated by luxury,
Playing loose the risks for my present,
Though I despair under the chains of worry.

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Elephants can sit on flowersWhen was the last time?
The last time you rode a bike?
Seems like it was ages ago,
Times when you went on a hike.

All in the past, we've changed.
No more fiddling, fooling and fun.
Climbing trees have been forgotten,
Gone – exercise, where we would run.

We've been spoilt, our minds…
Spoon-fed an imagination.
Monkeys can't be purple and
Pigs don't start a petition.

A world where anything could be?
A canvas of scribbles and colours.
Laughs can be heard from heaven
And elephants can sit on flowers.

Don't be ashamed to cryDo you know that feeling of exasperation?
That means you are giving up, slowly.
You just stare around you and wonder…
Where was the life you once loved so much?
Where was the life where everything was simple?
Where was the life where there were no worries?

You stare intently – stare at nothing.
Just a space filled with nothing but blankness.
You analyse your life and how much it's worth,
Thinking no one loves you, no one even cares.

The ache… how can you describe that ache?
Literally drying your heart as if it was wet laundry.
Your breath grows heavier, slower…
Your dainty fingers dance below your pool of ey

Suicidal despair of loveIt has been about two years -
Two years of a secret adore.
Almost no one knows that
You've got me wanting more.

Brief eye contact between us can
Make me feel so warm all over.
Our eyes would flicker away fast,
I'd always lose my composure.

Don't tell me you're that oblivious,
That you've never seen my stare.
All my smiles, laughs – directed to you,

I'm falling into

Such painful,

Suicidal

Despair.

A sweet home of trashMy mind tends to wander…
Of a home so very sweet.
A loving mum and dad that
Made everything all neat.

Our home was a shack that
Could crumble with a touch.
Even though it was nothing,
We never wished for much.

Our ugly and dirty home
Radiated a love so sweet.
Sculptured with pieces of trash,
It made me feel complete.

It doesn't feel the same now -
Mum and dad have left me.
I miss our home sweet home
And all the lovely memories.

Friends smile and leavePeople are really fucked up.
There isn't much to say.
I hate all my friends, because –
They always lie and betray.

No friendship lasts long as
True colours will show in time.
The patterns of black and white –
The sign of all their crimes.

''Friends'' play you in their games;
They love to cheat and deceive.
Readying you for your death,
Then they'll smile and leave.

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Submitted: February 18
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Winning isn't everything

by ~therealanonymous, Feb 18, 2013, 4:04:09 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Congratulations.

Why, congratulations...you win!
And this will be the ninth time,
the ninth time you've won.
Soon enough, it'll be the tenth
and it's what I hate most about you -
how you want to win, all the time.

A mere joke can be twisted into
an inevitable argument, where
hot tears are shed and
relationships are broken.
That's why you're always,
always, going to be alone...
because you can't bear to lose,
'cause you're only used to winning.

Congratulations... you win,
and your prize?
A lifetime of loneliness.

Winning isn't everythingby ~therealanonymous

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Here's a technically-not-so-good poem that I wrote. But hot tears were shed.

*AussieDidge Feb 19, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

In one of his songs, Scatman John sung this verse, which succinctly defines this poem...

"Everybody's born to compete as he chooses, but how can someone win when winning means that someone loses...?"

Winning only counts when it's during the most important stages of your life; say your marriage, having a wonderful family, a satisfying job, maybe the perfect retirement when all is said and done. At least that's my belief.

A well-expressed poem that truly asks everyone to search within themselves, to determine whether winning everything, from petty arguments to future careers and whatnot, is actually worth all the trouble. Would you be willing to ostracise yourself from everybody else because you're so obsessed with being the best, where opinions differ from person to person?

~therealanonymous Feb 19, 2013

''Winning only counts when it's during the most important stages of your life; say your marriage, having a wonderful family, a satisfying job, maybe the perfect retirement when all is said and done. At least that's my belief.''

Completely agree. Thank you for your comment!

*AussieDidge Feb 19, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Just thinking about it again for a moment, wouldn't it be different for sportsmen and sportswomen?

After all, they don't get paid millions of dollars in sponsorships and career "winnings" if they lost all the time... Hell, they'd probably be forced to bow out from public disgrace if that ever happened.

Aside from that, it's my pleasure, thanks for giving me something to think about.

~Reesesforce Feb 18, 2013

Wow...this...

I was friends with this girl who's just like this. She wanted to win all the time and she constantly hurt me because of it to the point where her selfishness literally put my life in danger. I eventually got fed up with it and ended our "relationship", but it was too late. She hasn't learned at all, and she wants to continue being friends with me. I just hope that she realizes that when she moves on to bigger things no one is going to put up with her crap (pardon my slightly vulgar vernacular) and so she'll be by herself.

Anyway, thank you for writing this.