My brother told me once

by tlhopkinson
3rd place Why I Can’t Write a Poem Contest


“If you want to be good at something when you’re drunk, learn how to do it when you’re drunk.” This he says as he explains the appeal of combining beer and golf. I nod my head, thinking maybe I would be as passionate and patient a poet as my brother is at golf if I had only waited to write my first lines and stanzas alongside an emptied flask, stumbling feet, and spinning head. To my misfortune, I first wrote poetry with the sober hand of a child—sober, yet worry-free, relaxed, and curious. This same inspiration now only comes to my ragged, grown hands once I’ve freed my mind and filled my gullet with word inducing wine. Trying to fool my fingers into typing without my liquid muse causes nothing but a blinking cursor and treacherous boredom. Pouring into myself and out of myself in the midst of selfish inebriation turns me into Dickinson—pale and mysterious, until I read my ramblings over a cup of hangover the next morning and see Bukowski—old and dirty, looking back at me from the page. I want to glide in white, but instead, I’m swinging for a hole in one.


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My Inner Sanctum

My Inner Sanctum- by TheKitten

She sees a world of eternal dusk, snowcapped mountains with evergreen blankets; standing on an endless plain. Four swift paws carry her with a graceful movement born from the intoxicating moonlight pounding through her veins. An eerie song lifts from the plains and rolls over her mountain tops – a song of loss, of pain, of fear. The lonely echo that bounces back does little to ease her shame.

A hunter fights she does not cry; thriving through her loneliness and the pain. A hunter fights and lives and dies, she does not run away, never looking back. Throughout the dusk and through the night – she runs to escape the shame; a lonely howl came from her heart that can never be heard again. The world she finds is full of shadows; full of evil lurking in the dark. No more mountains, no more plains – only the shadows and her shame.

She dare not cry, of her sorrow, of her loss – of that fear inside her heart. She must grow strong within the shadows, until her shame slips away. She hides in the darkness of her new world, waiting until the day – she can shed her sorrows with her shame and leave them both behind. When that day comes she will run from that place, full of shadows and her shame, and find her mountains with their evergreen blankets – resting on the endless plain, with an eternal dusk welcoming her home.




Red.- by SleepCrime

Here we are. Look at it. The end of the earth. Look how it falls so gracefully from this final height, crawling sickeningly like a great beast into such a fierce depth. It’s hellish isn’t it? But it’s so maddeningly beautiful, I know… I can hardly contain myself. I’m only this calm because you’re here with me. We’re even breathing in sync.

It’s so bright with heat. Our eyes burn to look at it, but how could we begin to tear them away? The fires of hell might be more forgiving, but we don’t care anymore. We’re the only ones left. It’s only us. Just you and me. And we’ll hold our scarred, burned and blistered hands because we made this journey together. —And it just hurts so bad, I know. It’s taking all we have to stand here with the last pride of our kind. We don’t even speak each other’s language, but we can both understand our fate now.

So this is what it feels like to be truly exhausted? We’ve been walking for days. I’m glad, though. I’m glad that I’m not alone. That you can be here with me, that you can see how unexplainably alluring, rapturing, perfect… all of this is.

And when you turned to me, you smiled. When I smiled back, you started crying. Even though we were both so miserable, even though we had nothing left, we at least had this moment. This last magnificent, painful moment. I kissed your eyes because I understood your sadness so profoundly. It burned my lips, and even though it hurt us both you gripped my hands.

Then it was time. I knew it, and you did too. We looked at the glow below us; just once more.

Then we inched our way slowly forward and we jumped.

And together… we became one.

All of us. You. Me. And the earth.



Reprobate Angel

Reprobate Angel- by Uley Bone


The night blackens the stare in the mirror

     of old photographs,

reshaping words,

     and severing the expressions–

Until the emotions disappear

     into a more unnatural atmosphere

            of lingering fuel and cold oxygen


Spent in the mad-angry combustion

     rosary of fixed devils

To the god at the end of the road.

Where it seems that the blood demanded

    in every sacrifice must be her own.


Chaining hypnotic

     between the imaginary lines

of old dreams and fresh nicotine.

Bitter-sweet musica

     thrives on bile and raw adrenalin–

Velocity panics fierce emotions

     slamming against

            the thin membrane of life or death


Seeping memorae,

     and the soft-image shadows

Within the smokey debris

     of each other’s life.

Fluid despair filling,

     gorged and festering heat

          against old wounds


Infected with idolatry.


Chains of Reality

Chains of Reality- by TBWfreak

There comes a point for me, when I’m tired of being tired.  The physical and mental unrest caused by living the way I live has taken it’s toll. It made me dark and lifeless, but clawing at the shadows, I found a light, a savior. The rapture echoed through the empty space that was my consciousness, and it game me hope, it gave me dreams. The hope helped me fight, and the dreams, they’re what I fight for.

I hoped for love, I dreamed of it. Still do.

I wished for more, I fantasized excellence. It never came.

My dreams….they had smiles, and they had laughs.

But my reality, it had tears and pain. Always pain….

I’m the “born with” but still without,

I am trapped in this life, because through the dreams…

I’m chained by reality.

The reality of my weakness….

The reality of my fear….

The reality of how I never stood a chance.


But the thing about reality, and the matter of it’s chains is this: Chains can be broken.

The thing about chances is this: Chances can be taken.

And the thing about fear is this: Fear can be defeated, destroyed, annihilated. Take your pick.


When you’re trapped, the reality is there is a way out.

Always a way out.


Of cogs, gears, and screws

Of cogs, gears, and screws- by thatkid508

The automatons are not so different from you and I
Though they are of cogs, gears, and screws
Of what are we made?
But of tiny pieces, together a whole

Our clockwork is a finely tuned machine
The likes of which has never been replicated
But sometimes we break
We lose a screw, gear, or even a cog

And, my child, do you know what then happens?
When we lose a piece, we can no longer funtion
Our purpose cannot be fulfilled
And our inner workings begin to rust

But it takes just a little work to set us in motion
– To set our emotion –
For they replace our missing piece
Be it cog, gear, and even a screw

They give you a sterling new piece
They are a snug fit
They oil us, wind us up, turn the key
They make us alive; They give us purpose

So you see, we are not much different from automatons
Though they are of cogs, gears, and screws
We, too, are made of many pieces
And with just the right person – just the right piece
We spring to life



Memories- by Lune

Sometimes we wonder why certain things happen ….
most of them tend to be bad, do not think anyone will complain about something good …
and it was there when I understood why…

Things, good or bad, always happen for some reason. With the good ones we believe that we have the world at our feet and that everything will be wonderful … but the bad is completely the opposite … we feel that the world is terrible and we are going to die, I know perfectly that feeling…

Then I began to think why I had so much bad luck this year …
why I thought that I love some people, no matter what, and that people who really love me and I really love are still there in spite of everything …
I realized also that relaionships do not last forever … for more than one will want …

Your friends are going to be  forever, but, of course you have to take care of them and not betray them…
I made the mistake of seeing more important a bf than my best friends
That was the biggest stupidity that I could have done …
but our friendship was stronger than everything and they forgive me …

That is the value of a good friendship and how stupid we can be …

This year I made many mistakes … but who does not?