Poetry Blog by Zackareigh

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Adriana de los Angeles Diaz Rizo on Sing to Me (Sat, 31 Aug 2019 10:33 pm)

keith jeffries on Let Me Breathe (Sat, 31 Aug 2019 09:22 pm)

Untitled 16

the cold air stabs at my hands
numbing my fingers out of existence
turning my blood blue and cold
until the only feeling left is nothing.
the life is sucked from my veins
as if the devil got bored and
wanted to have fun with my body.
the devil is surrounded by heat
and tortures victims with piercing blue
until all we can do is sit by a fire.
a red, orange, brilliant fire
that warms our ...

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Untitled 15

your words hurtle like a charging force
driving forward and not slowing down
piercing my lungs as blood makes me drown
I choke and sputter and gasp for air
your merciless diction is so unfair

grey and green splatter my vision
life and death, I found the perfect division
I teeter on the edge of being comatose
throat burnt to a crisp, like overcooked toast

I smell burning and fire 
As ...

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Untitled 14

what does it mean
when my mind goes blank
overwhelmed by an empty page?

writing is a daunting endeavour
never knowing where it will go
if it even goes at all.
writing is like driving a car
sometimes it's smooth and easy
other times it starts
and stops 
and starts
and stops
engine sputtering like thrown up dreams
stomach sick as it tears at the seams

writing is like having half fi...

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Untitled 13

maybe I should stop expecting
for you to be a good person
with a good heart
that does good things
so I wont get hurt 
when you're not

maybe I should stop expecting
for you to be better
with a better heart
that does better things
so I wont get hurt
when you dont

maybe I should stop expecting
for you to be there for me
when I need you
the most
to hold me in your arms and say
tod...

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Untitled 12

there was a void, in the mirror today
when I folded my body, and hung it away
the sunlight shone through the hole in my gut
my body, limp, lifeless, left hanging there, but
i am not dead, far from it, you see
i am alive but this isnt for me
this body of mine, its walls are a scam
it cannot contain the fire I am
it cannot conceal
the feelings within
the wounds that dont heal
are wearing ...

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Untitled 11

She looked into my eyes, and died.
Her fuelling fire fizzled and fried
her soulful eyes now null and void
her youthful gleam, now destroyed

The look she gave me
withered and weary
Like she saw something cold and dreary
I felt her gaze pierce my soul
a feeling so new it felt so old

She sighed herself a heavy groan
same old mistakes, thought she'd grown
She reached out gently, a softe...

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Untitled 10

How does the little flower
always remember to bloom?
How does the little flower
survive the weathers gloom?
How does the little flower
keep fighting for its life?
How does the little flower
battle winters knife?
How does the little flower
continue to grow
in this world full of nothing
as the seasons flow?

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Untitled 9

How does the little flower
always remember to bloom?
How does the little flower
survive the weathers gloom?
How does the little flower
keep fighting for its life?
How does the little flower
battle winters knife?
How does the little flower
continue to grow
in this world full of nothing
as the seasons flow?

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Untitled 8

tender is the night that is full of mourning
crickets chirp and parrots stir in dawning
but rewind a few hours and all is at peace
dark nights full of stars naked eyes can't see
far in the distance, the moon is staring down
melancholic gaze, a nostalgic frown
yellow are the stars, that shine for you
sleeping through the bliss, if you only knew
the streets are empty, full of debris
and pap...

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Untitled 7

your hair is blond and blinding
with whispers of soft red
your pink lips so inviting
blue eyes stops my tracks dead.

soft lines invade your forehead
and wrinkles around your eyes
tales of a life fully lived
and only half way through time.

your soul gleams and bounces
purifies the poison in my veins
your brows are furrowed, flouncing
maybe i can live again

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Untitled 6

awake at 4am
here we go again
saying things that we dont mean.

can we just pretend
those things were never said
and blame it on dreamless sleep?

we're so messed up
we're flesh and blood
our eyes rubbed red
from the tears we shed

remember back when
we were just kids?
right before we shared that kiss?

did you know that
ever since that day
I've never felt the same?

i spend m...

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Untitled 5

rejection is redirection.

we live on earth
a planet for which you are a part
every human works as cogs
there is no end, there is no start

you are born here,
on this planet.
and you shall die here also.
you were not born into this earth
to be a burdensome morsel.

your existence is highly valued
and your skills are vital here.
it is hard to find your place
but you will find it, my...

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Untitled 4

He is but a broken man,
with a watch that is still,
its face is broken,
like a damp rugged hill.
The pores surround him
and he wonders what could be,
could Sarah be alive
if he acted more quickly?
A shadow of himself,
for his new little girl,
he pulls up his socks,
and climbs out of hell.
He clubbers skulls,
bashes them in,
will he repent,
and be saved from sin?
Or IS there a god,
...

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Untitled 3

you bow your head
and mumble prayers
kind of believing,
but not really there.

your faith rocks,
gently to and fro,
as you stare blankly
into the unknown

what is up there,
way up high?
what is down there,
below the sky?

the world is full of wonders
and its mysteries are vast
but one thing is certain
this life, it does not last.

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Untitled 2

There are loved ones,
friends and family,
whose soft presence
you sorely miss.

There are loved ones,
high aplenty,
that soar freely
in Heaven's bliss

There are loved ones,
in his garden,
flying kites that
are in your name

When you're done here,
and told you've told your story,
you will join them again,
one day. 

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Untitled 1

Mr. Beige
I know you're getting old.
Tales of the colour white, 
once told.
Mr. Beige
I know you're feeling blue,
You dont feel 
like you used to.
Mr. Beige,
Your colour's blackening.
Crumbling like earth
above a fracking.
Mr. beige
Your world is going grey
will you ever be youthful again,
one day?
Mr. beige
your blood is running red
rusting from words
left unsaid
Mr. Beige
Yo...

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Sing to Me

Beside the river of death,

A poet gently breathes,

Praying to the water,

"Oh, please sing for me."

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Deathpoet

Let Me Breathe

entry picture

Writing poetry has become 

an automatic response 

to the slightest wave 

of rejection 

 

washing me up onto the shore 

covering me in seaweed 

and telling me i dont 

belong  

 

Rejection blankets me 

in teary eyes 

tugs at my heart 

leaves me to die 

 

As if the society 

that rejected me 

dunked my head 

under the sea water  

and my weeps we...

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