I made friends with the mailman today.
opium district
Aug 28, 2013

I made friends with the mailman today.
Because I thought he'd care to know
I'll be gone soon, he won't have to come around for much longer.
He smiled at me, with a hint of uncertainty
and carried on with his daily routine.

I've limped through another
day
weeK
birth
and I got scars to feel especially when they're burned

im limited in imagination
sparking only when I
masturbate
die
or start my car

I get high now, again
and as always it makes little to no sense
television
cold spells
online video games
but my lighter works and I believe in the power of
purification
as I try to achieve the heights of my imagination
again I try
sometimes twice a day

taijarea darius
Jul 15, 2013

you wrote  me  a letter with you signature
in that letter was lines of lust. this lust was deep you talked about .. curves ,breast , lips
i read on and thought damn he moves me with so much passion i sworn it was because he loved me
because i was the only woman that feed him songs of freedom . freedom from the chains of pain
late nights of running through each others  minds.
you wrote  me a letter with your signature in that letter was lines of secrets you talked  about  your past i read on
then understood i couldnt be your little secret anymore. i would have to leave you alone you wrote me a letter with your signature in in that letter was lines of mysery the paper wet from your tears  and in bold letter was the reason why. you said the lost of compassion kept you up late. tossing and turning in bed. and that you havent ate .
you wrote me a letter  with your signature in that letter was lines of love. deep love that you wanted to experience. love that wasnt judging  but  forgiving . i read thet letter thinking we could have done better. grab my hand i can take you back to your begining when you and i were kings and queens
at the bottom was a p.s. stating that you have moved on.
and what we shared had been lost.
that time was wasted being with me. you needed space to breathe. and thats when i knew that the writing was not about me.

The Littlest Mailman,
Taii
Taii
Nov 18, 2013

The Littlest Mailman,
It started as a conversation
With your big sister.
We were all so excited to
Hear about you.
We could barely
Contain ourselves
With the news of this miracle.
You were loved so much already.
Greatly saddened by the news today.
You were already so much to us,
A Son or daughter,
A brother or sister
A niece or nephew
Grandson or daughter.
But, sadly your heart stopped beating,
We are so sad you are leaving.
They must have needed another
Tiny angel in heaven.
We miss you already.
Grandma please hold him or her steady.
We will see you again when we are ready.

-----Aunt Tay

Not much of a poem more of a letter but I don't really care.  RIP Little Mailman
My mailman should be burnt at the steak
Jose Carlos Moyao
Jose Carlos Moyao
Nov 30, 2013

My mailman should be burnt at the steak
Too often do I run into him during his daily
affairs with the same demented smile on upon
his calloused visage
What does he know?
What does he possess that I lack?
I'm beggening to speculate that
he's reading my letters
Here's to you, fucker.

Of waiting in hushed noon for the mailman’s bell
Pradip Chattopadhyay

Faster smoother communication
Texts flying freely in the air
But somewhere eerily dying the relation
Bred when you could just silently stare!
Gone are the years of shy look and snail mail
A distance of time-space that fanned it intense
The words though now are buzzing like gale
With the wind comes not the romance’s incense!
Flew away the time them now would never know
Of waiting in hushed noon for the mailman’s bell
Running the fingers in the warmth of a blue glow
With the lovelorn heart in pursuit of a fairytale!

Of waiting in hushed noon for the mailman’s bell
Pradip Chattopadhyay

Faster smoother communication
Texts flying freely in the air
But somewhere eerily dying the relation
Bred when you could just silently stare!
Gone are the years of shy look and snail mail
A distance of time-space that fanned it intense
The words though now are buzzing like gale
With the wind comes not the romance’s incense!
Flew away the time them now would never know
Of waiting in hushed noon for the mailman’s bell
Running the fingers in the warmth of a blue glow
With the lovelorn heart in pursuit of a fairytale!

A re-post, inspired by Kelly Rose's thought-provoking poem The lost art of writing letters.
A mailman got tired
Jacob
Jacob
Jan 30, 2012

Blue was the sky
Blue was the sky
The sky was so blue
I wanted to cry

But I kept my chin up
My feet to the road
Acting like someone
With nowhere go

Stones and dust
Stones and dust
Walking past cars
Covered in rust

I'm feeling fine
As I watch a cat stretch
I can't think of a day
Better than this

The girls and the boys
The girls and the boys
Skipping and yelling
Playing with toys

A black cloud came out
And it started to rain
Puddles and pavement
Thirsty storm drain

Gray was the sky
Gray was the sky
The sky was so gray
I wanted to cry

But brown grass turned green
Flowers could drink
And everything dripping
Started to gleam

Letters and kisses
Letters and kisses
A mailman got tired
And sat for a minute

Of a mailman
Kelly Lloyd
Kelly Lloyd
Mar 20, 2012

A melancholy house
Weeping at the sight
Of a mailman
Turning around.

December 7, 2009.
Its the mailman
The mad hatter
Feb 27, 2011

Crazy
Enraged
Vicious
Disgruntled
Murderous
Looney
Insane
.......­...............
GUESS WHO?
Its the mailman
BOOM!

 
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