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When Words Just Need To Be Written


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Is this the end?

Where the world stops?

But going on


Witness to the never ending, constant cycle

Fire and growth,

Birth and death,

Shattered soul, bruised again.

Fragmented mind,

Unbound from time.

Chained to watch

Eternal, alive.

7th time from the ashes,

grey and cold.

Living with fire

Unburnt and old.

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Thank you for sharing, 7th time from the ashes, is something I can relate too...

May I ask what the inspiration behind your poem, and your expression was...

Well wishes, moonbeambethx

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I thought about this for a while and I can't really pin point an inspiration, and be consise at the same time. I don't want to ramble on and on.

On a reoccuring and regular basis my moods shift into this really distorted, heightened and near psychotic sort of state. It may or may not be linked to depersonalization, it's is also like having access to my unconscious dreaming mind when I am awake. This state totally shifts reality into a different order, things mean different things, things that are significant to the normal are suddenly irrelivent. Suddenly I am overcome by ideas that the lines on the palm of your hand are a map of your life, we just don't know how to read it. And I feel so certain of this that I feel my time would be best spent trying to decipher that rather that get up and go to work the next day and be normal. I ask myself, would I rather die having gone to work for a massive company in which I am insignificant or would I rather die having deciphered the map?

So.... yes I am in this totally bizzare state of mine when I write any poetry, and it always comes out better than when I write poetry with a normal frame of mind.

As for the context, I liken these cycles of moods to the activity of a volcano. So this poem is situated somewhere along the lines of volcanos, dragons, phoenixes, and a bizzare state of mind.

The 7th time for the ashes I think is the number of times I've felt pushed to the point of near suicide.... or the amount of times I've burnt up and renewed again.... I'm not really sure I don't analyze my own poetry :P

Thanks for your interest though. I'm glad someone is reading.

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Soory, yes, questions as such...thank you for understanding and not just ending this with, no, mind your own business,

Read the poem, as you do!!

Totally wonderful, thank you for giving so much, and much makes sense, even though we are new to each other...Hope that you find ways to be both, map reader, and worker in the world...how cool to have the access to the pre-conscious, with clarity and presence, I am intimidated! lol, but in the good way...

I am sure this is not so cool for you to experience many times in your life...may I extend a wish for this to always be 'do-able', if that makes sense...

Yes, I read, and felt drawn, felt, a connection to the phrase...

Well wishes from me x

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Thank you so much BVBarmyirl :))))

Usually when I write poetry I don't really compose it I just write and then I shut the book and don't look at it for a few days. Then when I re read it I can see if it's any good or not. Here is another one I did a few days ago :)

Here again

Darkly familiar home.

Walking delicately on the edge.

Scalpel sharp

Hauntingly inverted,

Lit from beneath.

I can enter the inversion

Or turn to the abyss

Incessant screaming black hole.

Ever present friend.

Diving in, no way back

Maddness personified

Blood running black,

Buzzing, looping circular

Endless time.

Tears of adrenalin

exhausted energy

Where do I go?

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I did some more words.

I walk the Borderline

Grey malady

Psychedelic existance

Fever pitched colours

Feeligns flowing like water.

Of course it is timeless.


Impossible to decipher,

Difficult to care.

Between normality and fantasy.

Reality check!

It's ok no one's noticed.

Wandering, wandering



Ever chaos. Never calm

Beautiful heightened perfection.

Distored, nonsensical

Beyond and over

Under and Back again.

It's never said

What kind of 'line'

the Borderline is.

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Limbs are made of stone

Body grey and dead

The mind and absent cloud, behind the veil.

Coal flying

Leaving smokey charcoal trails.

Silence. Too silent.

Unbearabley still.

Charred landscape burnt to ash.

From the ashes, glazed eyes.

Empty, and void.

Gradual dusky grey.

Smouldering, smoking,

Post chaos apocalyptic

Beginning again

Again beginning

Plane walker,

Planar bound, unbound.

Ghostly and Intangable.

Not dead.

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  • 2 weeks later...

I am in a dark patch.... this came out....

I am the shadow in the dark
Ancient claws upon your heart
Darkened in the quiet night
Non-existant, out of sight.

Never seen and never heard
Ever present grey unearthed
Behind the soul, beneath the mind
Outside space, outside time.

I am the shadow in your head
Never living, never dead
Blackened shadows, dark and thin
Dusty foot prints beneath your skin.

Primal being, monstrous, true
I swear I will never be you!
Scattered illusions, blinded, unseen,
I didn't notice when you became me.

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all these poems are really good

i really like the shado's in your head one

that line jumped out at me when my screen reader said it

keep writing.

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Here are some more words :)

Do you know the dead eyed look?

When the soul inside has died.

Expressionless the person lives

Denying they survive.

Wordless concepts scream for life

Fractured and fragmented.

Cold as death, a mental quiver

Ruptured and tormented.

Splitting soul, eleven ways

Indefinable pain.

Dispersed the pieces scatter

But survival finds a way.

All the while a storm becomes,

Greater than you could ever know.

Held within the dragons eye

The mortal eternally alone.

Amiss in this arid land

In unending desolation.

A microcosm for greater life

the souless one was shaken.

All this behind the eys

of a creature chained to life.

Internally shattered but physically whole.

Shifting to the sky.

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  • 2 months later...

Saying 'I' narrows the spectrum of your being
all th way down to an unchangable, stagnant image.
One that is sought to be maintained, regardless
of consequences.

Saying 'we' widens and widens
So that all the beings in your spectrum have a voice.
Daiglogue, change, expansion. Limitless we can
be everything in our being, and more.

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  • 1 month later...
  • 4 weeks later...

Thank you so much Silent Girl : ))))))

It's been a while.

We are many, but one.

One entity but many....

Together we all live

But it is not enough.

The company of each other is not enough

Hunger in the soul

Running so deep it is part of the landscape.

The Grand Canyon

Of which nothing can fill.

Irritated, frustrated.

If only it were possible to die from nothingness

Then there would be peace.

But together we writhe

In a space that is paradoxically

Too small, and too big.

Swamped by each other

But straying too far leads to despair.

Calling out in the emptiness we try to find each other

Clinging like helpless infants

But the company of each other is not enough.

And with that void swirling ever closer

The eternal black hole

We must work together to get away.

Because we know, we all know....

That even inside the black hole

There is no death.

There is no end.

Arguments ensue

We are bound too tightly

We cannot breathe

Our voices scream to be heard over each other

Until all of us are tired.

And we cling out of comfort,

But desperately want to let go.

There is no ‘worst’ stage,

We argue,

We drift apaprt

We bind together

We are nearly engulfed

We are engulfed

We escape

We argue.....

Each brings its own peace and its own torment.

It is unending.

2 Dragons, 3 Angels,

Vampire, old woman,

Human and a snake

Who do you think can shout the loudest?

In a world of creatures that change shape and landscapes that don’t stay the same?

Whoever is drowned out gains more powers

Until they hold the others in a vice.

None can be ignored, and all have a voice.

There is no peace, and no rest.

I am tired.

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  • 5 months later...

Hello again everyone. Another poem. :)

A thousand words left unsaid

Dancing menacingly about my head.
Echoing off cavernous walls,

Burning brightly before a fall.

Etched into internal bone

Never freed from their home

Many voices held within

Escaping only through broken skin.

Like hieroglyphs, the words unreadable

Communication is unmistakable.

Like weathered rock the skin heals

Unspeakable words beneath a seal.

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  • 2 months later...

Beautiful words and Poetry,,im creative with Poetry and writing aswell but find the mood has to take me along with all my other mood swings. I get blocks then can write some inspiring stuff!!!. Lovely:D

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  • 8 months later...

No one knows I’m really dead
The world just ends beyond my head.
They see a smile, I am a hole.
They see a human. I have no soul

Focus on what’s good and pure.
What if none of that matters anymore?
In the end it’s just the same.
Nothing matters anyway.

I see beauty, they see a girl.
Desperate dreams become unfurled.
Shredded to tatters, confetti sized,
There is nothing behind the eyes.

Not even a wall to block things out,
There is no music, there is no sound.
Just a void where a light once shone,
Don’t bother. She’s already gone.

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