Open-Mic-Poetry

I'll fall into your trap but don't think me a fool, for I'll be out through old footholds and paths to your destruction I'll hold grudges and you'll sleep with one eye open.

“Dear Womba, friend; this thread is short. When I am gone and can speak no more, and eat dust, whilst worm-chewed, gnawed, and Niðmund nibbles at my breast, and can neither walk nor dance nor sing for all my joints have been far-stretched, bones scattered, throat torn, ravaged by the rats and worms of deepest earth to feast on bloody heart and guts of mine; when great Greed, the king of gnawers, comes; the grinding one, who shreds all flesh to drill my eyes out from this skull – sing songs of me, my dearest friend, and dance, as if I still was there.”

we weren't star crossed and certainly not just unlucky, no your choices are your own sins on your back yours to shake I can't save a drowned corpse, but you'll always stay a photograph untouched in my mind, but tragedy; you will never see how the story ends.

Falling Drops of Fire I’m stuck to this spot Not by choice Never had one I want so much to be free In this spot drops from somewhere above fall on me Constantly dripping at worst Sometimes it stops but it can start up again anytime A cruel cycle that never ends Never knowing what triggers them to fall on me again Always on high alert for when it will happen again Nothing I do has ever stopped it Sometimes the drops are benign Can be wiped away Other times its like fire and it burns Provoking what I try to hold back and never express I can’t escape on my own Those that want to help are stuck behind barriers They support me anyway they can It is helpful and gives a temporary respite Wish that more could be done If only anyone who could help took it seriously They see no outside wounds so can’t be bad at all Blame me for my pain and tell me to find my own way out Tell me to just accept my lot in life They walk away like they saw nothing Meanwhile I’m drops away from it

There are demons in all of us Some linger and hide In the shadows In the dark And others Hide in plane sight In the light There are demons in all of us Everywhen and everywhere And whether they hide in the dark Or in the light It is on us to face them And give them Eternal night

running in circles the rat race got me down, digging my feet in, jump I'll get out of this trench if it's the last thing I do

The facade breaking Splintering, Crumbling, Burning Man steps into light German version: Die Fassade bricht Splitternd, Bröckelnd und Brennend Der Mensch tritt hervor

Woede Het raasde weer, onbezonnen, onbegonnen. Laat zich meeslepen, rap op de kast gejaagd. Huilt langs hoeken en langs daken. Voelt zich door de druk belaagd. Hectisch gestrekt, tot in de hoogte. Woelen, wervels, wild door wenkbrauwen heen. Op zoek naar kalmte, voor zijn aanvang, maar helaas, hij vond er geen. Verschopt uit een zee van stille zorgen. In het nauw, verstoten, toe tot aan het bloeden. Botst met hete lucht, geladen in de hersenpan, dat glas, waarin deze storm woed(d)e. Geschreven en bewerkt door Piezometric Poetry on 05-03-2024 Poem artwork

My little horror show, a life no longer comforting, but still, it keeps going. The motorcycle wrecks of my youth my reckless dances with fate— etched into my bones. Each scar a whispered memory, a testament to youthful invincibility. My body now a relic, a museum of aches and regrets, pathetic and worn, like an old leather jacket that's seen too many storms. What was it all for? The wild rides, the laughter, the reckless abandonment— I wouldn't change much, for those moments were my currency, spent freely on the carousel of life. Friends, once vibrant constellations, now fading stars, their light extinguished, Leaving behind echoes of laughter, and empty barstools. I’ve seen so many lives tumble and burn. Some by going too fast but more by moving too slow. My body, a crumbling temple, no longer capable of half the feats it once reveled in. Yet, there are still moments usually after a few drinks, when I look up at the stars, and they shimmer like forgotten dreams. These

Mind-full-mess Aware of my surroundings, empathic to your space. Minding my own business, not standing in your face. Always thinking towards another, of how I may make others feel. Anxiety from my social footprint, that never appears on the other heel. A flood of thoughts assuming, that I hinder and cause stress. Yet it is me that is suffering, as my head is a mind-full-mess. Pp 31-03-2024 Poem artwork

The Dark By J.C. Solis What is a realm where the darkness resides A place where sinners all go down to hide What is a place that is forgone by light A grim place where righteous people take fright Is this the place where one goes down to heal? After seeing that one’s own fate is sealed Is this the place where foul monsters now dwell? And filled with creatures from the bane of Hell What do you expect to see in the dark? Do you expect to change your fate so stark? Do you think you can veer the course of fate? Before your time comes and it’s far too late? For this is One’s Nature deep down and whole For this is the Darkness within Your Soul…

a Trinity of Whirling Swordplay Specters enter the Celestial Valley where the Empress waits across the Lake of the Ancient World......

The patient came with a broken leg. The doctor they saw, his name was Greg. He put the cast on tight, but did not look right. Now it was more broken than an egg.

Stories of love and escapist stories, I enjoy escapist entertainment Before I try to make them a reality For myself because I am too faint-hearted I see the perfect image of courtship, Perfect romance, and I’m afraid When I see before me the flawed reality. Although my age is mature, I’m still a greenhorn I am still a greenhorn with the art Of courting and romance, I am slow to understand And recognize meaning and hint of interest In me, whether I like it or not There’s an inverse relationship between who you Like and who likes you, as experience showed. What if he likes me not? What if he likes me? Love is offering a vulnerable heart. You offer your defenceless heart to Another in the hope that they will accept it; Could I give to him the power to hurt me? Do I dare to venture into the unknown? I am used to romantic disappointment. Alas, I have no idea how to handle the Rules of love, although I make my constant Prayer to the wily Lord Aengus There’s promise of an almighty

pains only temporary but normalcy persists, worms into my mind, stir crazy your hands hold the path to the better life everyone wants for me, mine a molotov; moth meet flame and tonight? I want to burn it all d o w n

Silberne Federn Glänzen im Wind Künden vom Ende Bringen die Wende Geschwind Stürzt herab Silberner Pfeil Greift und Reißt Bringt die letzte Wende Bringt Das Ende Silver feathers Glittering in the wind Herald the end Bring the change Swiftly Swoops down Silver arrow Snatches and tears Brings the change Brings The end

Little Life Left By J.C. Solis I do not have now much longer to live I’ve already given what I could give I do not know what awaits for me now As the curtains close and I take a bow What I did in life had no consequence The good I’d do with no second thought hence I want to know whether I will mourned Whether in good grace or filled with great scorn Just know that I die accepting Death’s call Because, in the end, the Grim comes for all Just know I was happy with what I had Filled with emotions, from Sad, Mad, and Glad As I take this bow and descend to the grave Just know that I join Death with a heart brave…