10 hours ago

An aged face stares at a pristine mirror.
Seeing memories of loves long past.
Friends faded and consumed by the great abyss.
Opportunities missed,
And wrong turns taken.
Roads never traversed,
and regrets.
All staring back,
At the once virile young man.
His life taken by reality
His youth long removed.
Now he stands a husk.
Arrived at the final form to be taken by man.
The form is less grand than,
What the child dreamed of,
When begging his parent
To "get older".

#love   #anger   #hate   #pain   #time   #old   #flow   #youth   #suffer   #aged  
CK Baker
CK Baker
1 day ago

There were dividing lines
between springfield
and mariners gate
soft, subtle lines
that spoke of origin
and code
and biting union

it was all
the reason
for being back then
to be alive
and living
dead or dying
deep in a pack
of pint size resistors
hell bent on the
marsh crow
and cannabis tower
jumping the rush
with pot shots
and anchors
and tribunals

camouflage creepers
and transient floaters
marked rebellion at the gate
(skullduggery and taunt
high on their favor list)
jack straws and flat paddles
for the evening charade
beakers and flailing hands
from the foot washing baptist
(the pleasant street conservatives with their
own something to say…“there’s gonna be hell to pay!”)

there's a
lingering effect
to this sentiment
(evident in the pump house stride)
the river winds
blow gently
into the night
and the huddling
packers and scat backs
chase the evening hours

it’s a bitter sweet
end of an era…
those traction bars
hood scoops
and nickel bags
will always
be the rage

Melody Martin
Melody Martin
3 days ago

Put on your armor,
Slip into your high heeled shoes.
Wear them with everything.
Wear them as long as you need them.
Wear them to feel safe.
Wear them to feel powerful.
Wear them to feel important.
And go about the business of living.
Figure out who you are.
Figure out what's important.
Figure out how you're going to put your "weird" to use.
Don't build any walls to high.
Don't try to get out with your heart intact.
When something hurts you, let it hurt.
And after all of that is done.
I hope you no longer need that armor.
I hope you can look yourself in the eye.
I hope you find a way to help the next "weird" girl in line.

#love   #life   #girl   #alone   #people   #young   #youth  
5 days ago

She put her hair up
All night I imagined its fall
Breathlessly waiting

#love   #haiku   #beauty   #lovers   #erotic   #youth   #joyous   #arousal  
emme m
emme m
5 days ago

up high our bodies breathe
when we’ve found what we seek
at night our minds will speak
what to lose and what to keep

some say we’re dumb and weak
but we know we should sleep
we feel young and free
it don’t matter when they preach

stay youth stay
please don’t let go
we'll try to behave
but there’s so much we don’t know

go go away
we need to be alone
no, we can’t be saved
someday we’ll grow old

#stay   #young   #old   #free   #youth   #behave  
Francie Lynch
Francie Lynch
5 days ago

My original spring was wound,
Tight as a Swiss watch.
The fore-finger and thumb
Of the nun turned the crown screw,
As only the Sisters could do.
Any subject could be converted
Into a lesson of the life of Jesus.
A plus sign becomes a cross.

     Even Jesus knew the angles
     To be a carpenter and Savior,

Grace and Faith kept time.

The Sacrements were frequent topics.
How many would we receive
Between Baptism and Extreme Unction?
After Confessions, I once asked,
Is it possible to sin between Penance and the curb?

     All things are possible with God.

You didn't want to die with a blemished soul;
Being responsible for more thorns and nails
Pounded into the emaciated, pitiful flesh
Of the one to emulate,
With Grace and Faith.

I was fervent in prayer.
I wanted to carry the Holy Eucharist
To the housebound or hospitalized;
Through the throng of thugs
Ready to defile the wafer.
I was ready to die a martyr,
With a benevolent, sober Jesus,
Guarding from the clouds,
Right hand raised like a Judo chop,
Blessing me, preparing me,
Protecting me with a corporeal force field.
Grace and Faith kept time.

I pined to wear the Altar Boy's Cassock,
Soutane-like, long and black,
Topped with the surplice;
To ring the bell, light the incense,
Hold the Communion Plate
Under Mammy's chin
As she knelt in supplication,
Before the Madonna,
My blessed Mother.

Did she envision me as a Jesuit,
Tending to the lame lepers
In the jungles of Peru and Africa.
Me, who issued forth from her.
Faith kept time.

The dark hour was closing in.
The spring was loosening,
Unwinding as I relaxed.
Marian sat beside me,
Thinking of our orders
At the drive through.
The Nehru-collared clerk
Slid the glass window,
Listening to our wants.
I offered her a napkin
To keep the crumbs
Of her little black dress.

A Catholic schooling in the sixties was something to experience and reflect on.
Chris Neilson
Chris Neilson
5 days ago

From a bashful youth
to a chattering box
took too many years
too many stopped clocks

From sheltering in shadows
and playing the nerd
to a contrary escapee
from society's herd

From paralysing reticence
and bitter experience
to finding a voice
via various expedients

From an inner sanctum
to an outer space
to try and figure out
this flawed human race

From careless to carefree
no longer toeing lines
writing them instead
without the confines

Nothing to see here

#lines   #youth   #toeing   #bashful  
Leigh Herondale
Leigh Herondale
5 days ago

When I die,
Do not talk about me
Like I am the most wonderful person
To have ever graced this Earth;

Instead, tell them I am mad.
How my dirty nails dug ugly scars
Within my dark, burning soul
Fed with rage uncontrolled.

Tell them I am selfish.
With an eye for love I have not
That my heart rejoices but in sorrow
Only coldness and loath would grow.

Tell them I am broken.
That these crevices that he left
In the regions of my heart
Will not ever heal completely again.

That I walked wide-eyed yet half-awake
Torn between the fantasy of his lips so sweet,
And the gleam of his pointed teeth.

Tell them all my sins.
My uglies.
My glories.
And only after that,
That then,

Maybe you can tell them I was beautiful.

Feb. 14, 2017

YES, I am back. But only for a while
#love   #sin   #death   #die   #beautiful   #beauty   #ugly   #age   #youth   #glory  
Brynne Miller
6 days ago

Beating fast, both your wings and your heart
You ascend and keep climbing, anxious to reach the peak
Uplifts you, exhilarates you
Until you acclimate and feel nothing
Slowly deadening your senses one ‘I love you’ at a time
Until you are like a balloon
Stuck in the rafters
Slowly deflating
Until you drift to the ground and are swept up at the end of some marvelous party.

#love   #party   #bittersweet   #youth  
Terry Collett
Terry Collett
6 days ago

Orange brick
in evening sun
dull and warm
and I felt with my fingers
as I passed,

il silenzio permette
lo spazio per Dio parli
the Italian monk said
placing two fingers
to his lips,

I hoed between the plants
in the abbey garden
sunlight upon me
like God's blessing,

smelt incense
with body sweat
and baked loaves
as I stood
in the choir stalls
before Vespers,

la oración es
un acto de amor
lasalabras no son
St Teresa said
so I read,  

I picked up
a handful of earth
and held it
in my palm
and crumbled it
between finger and thumb
like some
ancient conqueror
after battle,

the tall thin monk
tolled the big bell
pulling on the rope
with ease
then releasing it
and grabbing again

silenzio e spazio
letting God in
where once
was noise and muddle,

prayer is love
no words needed
a saint said,

amour et prière
Dom Placid said to me
as we walked
in the cloister
before Terce,

interno la pace
as well as outer peace
the monk told me
harder to obtain
too much going on

interius silentium
I stood on the seashore
and watched
the waves come in
trying to empty of self
but the sea could not
drive me from me.

#youth   #abbey   #monks   #1970  
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment