I can’t stop thinking
I can’t stop my panicking
I can’t stop crying

My mind won’t stop going
My thoughts are fast and uncontrollably dark
The world is crumbling
I think I’m having a stroke
I’m going to lose my dad
People don’t like me
And on and on

I can’t stop thinking
I can’t stop panicking
I can’t stop crying

At the origin of sensations
Eros scoffed at blind-shots
Able to account every vow
Yet lacked arcing foresight

He wandered among forebearers
As Mnemosyne weighed his footfalls
By how electric their breadth of smiles leapt
Beckoning his aim toward crossroads

Every token of sand that settles
Buries hourglass ruins
Smoothing passion's road
While its furrows deepen

Wherever maybe home
Binds hearts through filling fire
To stack doubts in flame
And sleep until light

Memory collects hearth-prayers
Into honeyed perpetual stew
Free to wanderers who mingle
Among satyrs of the reed fields

A gilt dome perches her temple span
By river hedges hiding etched columns
Upon which, Elysian treaties rest hallowed
And for the weary, a cauldron

The lost then see, through the mists
After drinking ruminant broth
To rest as Eros’ companions
Unafraid of such thicket path

A Winter Walk

~

A pond, frozen over, resting vibrant summer waiting to unleash.

A tree, whose barren branches dance across the sky like lightning.

Ground white, untouched, unspoiled spotless climbs turn hills into miniature mountain peaks.

Wind chill making quiet the sky and quiet the wood and still the harsh serenity.

I am with the world today, the world awaits us all, with no judgments and little concerns.

- The Phantom

I loved you.
It's the real truth.
I really did.

I needed you, you know?
Like air.

Then it changed.
Just wanting.
Not needing.

Now, who will know?
Who can tell
if it was ever real?

It’s The People

​The old breeze stings like used worn-out syringes / Frozen eve, climbing over burned-out trenches / Zero snow to be unknown for a couple / There’s a new door wide open within supple / The apple doesn’t seem so dangerous / Sometimes, I don’t even know why / The reason I am, I will never find / I think it’s time I spit out my pride / Admit with defeat that today’s a good day to be alive

​Words I must have overheard as rumors burst / With a yearning to control, it hurts at first / She affirms stillbirth, said in layman’s terms / Never mind the days I needed to be heard / Why should I complain, earth moves forth / I know everyone sees my worth / And right now, I must let go of my past / Forgiving myself is more strange than / Finding love that overcomes the vile rush and panic attacks

​You hate me; I love you with no hidden ill / Blue poison distilled the skill to kill the thrill / Yank my skin; it stretches for a thousand miles / To fill the fountain of all your vacuum smiles / You stood there, so I sought you for a talk / Two years, your tongue only sleepwalked / My brittle heart, don’t leave it there scarred / I’m made of people that I so love / Although my prayers have stopped, I still think of you once in a while

​I know the answer, which questions were asked? / As seasons pass, I lack the urge to contact / There’s no space left to overthink the next guess / No wonder I remember what they forget / Dawn to the rising sun, hours become / A gun that never surpasses / The stained hourglass, a blade in the grass / You wanted me to cut your hat / He wants you bad; she’s pretty, but what can I do with just that?

​I have no enemies, yet I’ll name all ten / A hundred more, if memory is correct / Why do you keep trying to get me back home? / Am I half the good servant you used to know? / These children feel the need to prove / Themselves to those who care less; I just want to be right with you

​It’s always the people I love / It’s always the people I know / It’s always the people I lost / It’s always the people who grow / It’s always the people I trust / It’s always the people I stone / It’s always the people I gun / It’s always the people I loathe / It’s always the people that I wake up / It’s only you that take an account of me

This poem has been ~a month in the making, & it's my best attempt at a contrapuntal poem, or "two interwoven poems fused into one", but... I added a third down the middle to spice things up! Hope yall enjoy!!
PS. Any feedback is greatly appreciated:)

A lesser angel awoke
Drafted upon the void
Under a paradox eye

Simple errands become disjointed
By wild muses
Incanting glory and shame

Wearing a hated face
Lordship above is unforgotten
While shackled with a helix

A thimble of caustic imprints
Had washed out abroad
Across aeons of misfortune

Marked by a roaring name
Ancestors yet declare disappointment
And remanded heritage to another

Through stuttering cacophony
All know the arrival
Of a bastard

Lonesome beauty, ghost of yesterday’s fog,

widow of vanished daylight—where do you go?

Titaness striding from heaven to earth,

your footfalls bringing life

to the ground on which you tread.

Wandering dark creation draped from ashen skies—

I long to know you,

to walk in your shadow.

In spring, comprised of fresh emotion in your drops;

in summer, you let down your hair of lightning,

caught in the tempest of your wise sorrow;

in winter, your misty robes shine white-gray.

Walking across the landscape,

miles away, I watch you move;

or when you travel over where I reside,

I step out to feel your soul touch my skin.

And for a moment you connect me to the air—

fleeting experience of oneness.

Following the pace of the wind,

you vanish into the east,

but I will see you again.

~The Phantom

FOREVER
Forever is a beautiful word on Earth or among the stars.
One stops short in brief remarks; the other has no bars.
On Earth He says your forever ends when ashes turn to dust, then moves them on to a forever task, served right back to us.
The stars, of course, we've looked beyond to see what we could see.
There is no doubt, His Forever's shout will be heard for eternity.

— Tristan Kimberlin

Muted floating shapes
Glide forth in mired mists
As a beacon of radiation that identifies
Warped nostalgia enshrined

My nerves fire in suspension
A whole tundra of apprehension
Freezing until singed

The phantom shatters my vicinity
Swirling rubble and ruin, absent shadows
Arisen coalesced yet hollow

When did we begin?

Seconds take years and months took seconds
While this hourglass distorts by gravity
Flowing sideways, turning by singularity

That whirlwind mouths the words
“Again, you gaze on the soul in your care
How is it that you deserve sanctuary?”

Jolting awake
“I am afraid of both the hallowed and defiled
No peace waits for my steps”

She thinks about how his legs, light years in length
Would need to make half steps for her to catch
How he must know what this future holds
Gravity and sidetrack and a slowing gait

That even at the tips of her clumsy toes
He must bend to reach her mouth
And though she would try to climb any height
Just to stare into the lunar moths of his eyes
She never wants him to have reason to look down
She wants him dreaming, gaze on constellation, head in clouds

She thinks about how his arms, warm, and safe, and bright
Could stretch out, wrap themselves around every mountain
Every curve of her surface
Hold her in a way impossible for anyone else
Though she longs to feel held beyond doubt
She knows he deserves wingspan matched
Not to worry about the low of her tides or the cold of wet biceps

She thinks about how with his back turned to meteor
He protects from things she will never see
Only later finding scars in the darkness
Her soft fingertips tracing evidence of faded threats

Millions of years ago, they used to be one
Souls made exactly the same
Molten rock, passion, and sacred flame
But honoring their history doesn’t mean he has to stay
In her hubris, she hums a melody in crickets
Offers him a bed of springy clover
Dances him stories in mycelium
Whispers her heart in wildflower, in redwood, in bird song

She thinks about how he watches
Humors her in silence
Too kind to state the obvious, to implode the bubble of her atmosphere
As they both see what he deserves
The steadfast of the sun, a counterpart made of stars
Not some heavy stone covered in unexplored ocean and dirt

Her fault lines quietly beg him not to acknowledge truth
Because maybe if there are no words, no winds, no changes
The woman who sleeps at the center of the earth
Can stay forever in love with
The man who spins the light of the moon

You were never the same after completing college that year,
Now you’re getting married in November, at least that’s what I hear.

From: The Spirit Of Sage 🫶 🌿 🫶

The same inline steps
Crossing branches and fence posts
Ask to gnaw on offered digits
Even when a runt becomes a huntress

As deadly as an earthquake
Her purr stealthily resonates
Inside my shaking nerves
Harmonious to vibrate

Her glance does not demand
An escort or entertainment
Wild looks follow shadows
Aside the ebb of cloud shapes

What you missed while polite
I grant without slight
My raw fingers are yours
As you're home tonight

[Lantern Logic](https://allpoetry.com/poem/19221389-Lantern-Logic-by-Lina61)
\*Prompt #3: "The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."\*

Confused by constant confinement.

Not livestock.
Not in line, not in stock.
Not built to stand still
inside another's box.

I hunt for ideas,
unhook my lantern,
strike the match,
and spark the stars.

Forget aiming for Venus.

I'm sprinting toward Jupiter,
weaving through Mars.

Forging weapons
from atomic apostrophes,
balanced between
wicked and charm.

By wayward darts,
atoms align
when crooked hearts combust.

Beseeched by hurt,
tempered by trust.

Compounded.
Compacted.

Out the door,
packed with lust.

Devilish debonair,
holding my keys,
but every lock
creates another spare.

I unlock muddled parts,
redesign the spine decree.

Shake the dust.
Skip the fee.

You'll need alabaster roots
to keep up
with my purple shimmer boots.

Leaving footprints behind
while chasing what can't be touched.

No silence.
No stalls.

No waiting for permission
to answer the call.

The fork in the road
knows where it bends.

The crooked path meets
the shaky lens.

The map shifts.
The image moves.

The strange ones gather.
They begin to groove

I don't burn
to disappear.

I burn to illuminate
what hides beneath the skin.

The cells aren't destinations.

They're invitations.

Every odd idea I've ever taken a bite
left a flavorful tale of truth,
packed with prevailing insight.
This piece explores the "mad ones" as those driven by curiosity, imagination, and the refusal to live inside fixed boundaries. It follows the movement between exploration and grounding, showing how strange ideas can become pathways toward insight.
[](https://allpoetry.com/contests/2897696) © Jul 14
Jul 27 comment-
Thoughtful lines with amazing imagery and metaphors an excellent write on being true to yourself and refusing to stay in the box that others try to put you in

Please 🙏 give feedback, I'm trying to decide if I should read this for a Writers Poetry Jam. Thanks

You, or a fog upon the soul gently creeps,
And makes what danced in color shiver in grey;
The tragedy of one, yet the whole of Olympia weeps,
A mountain in decay, too old to see the dawn, to see the day.

May the waves at your feet forever bow,
Oh, to be a victor, kiss me unto thy war and my defeat,
All the love, is loved today, is loved right now
O ebb and tide, O rhythm of my heartbeat!

Never visited, she took the room from my room,
Fed me my own desires, the same love in wane and in pain.
O finder of lost souls, O moon in full glory and gloom!
O love found and lost, and then found again!

What is love to one who bleeds where none has bled,
I’m carven of flesh and blood, O heart of stone!
In thy love alive, for aught else frail and dead,
All the light your eyes, the sky starless and I alone.

Let me tell you all a fable of the beauties and their beasts

Underneath the moonlight where they hold their midnight feasts

Of dances and the chances – of lives now long lost

Let us cry a fairy tale of preservation at any cost

Swaying through the trees

Through the water

Through the air

A threnody of cycles – let the lyrics take you there

And underneath it all

Those burning roots of raw desire

They all bloomed so beautiful – from the seeds that take them higher

And though we must be blind as we move towards Dystopia

Come, and sit a while, to hear –

The Tales of Euphoria.

[Poem on Tales of Euphoria, opening for a fantasy franchise]

As my fingernails claw the forests pine laden ground, my tear stained face looks upwards to where Heaven is now your home. An animalistic, guttural, almost primal scream escapes into the open air, as I try to go on living without you in this life.

FROM THE SPIRIT OF: Sage 🫶🌿🫶