You swept me out to sea,
I followed you willingly.
Then you threw my heart onto the rocks
So the fragments washed away from my grasp.
I couldn’t find myself again,
Piece my heart back; mend.
Yes, I saw the light, no, I did not take caution
But it was your dry shores that kept me
Strewn for so long, they watched
As my ship corroded in wait
Of help from your imaginary inhabitant.
You are the deceiving lighthouse
I should have stayed away from your edge.
But your beam pulled me in
A warning sign in the disguise of a friend.
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 8:45 PM UTC
I feel like one of those girls
At a drive-through
"Hey, can I take your order?"
Then you leave in a few.
I don’t know how you changed from
Someone who cared to someone who can’t.
They say those things don't happen overnight
Yet here I am, proving fast food
Is less dispensable than my heart.
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 1:34 PM UTC
.
.
Mind my French but…
'Tu me manques'
.
.
.
(I miss you)
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 1:13 PM UTC
What's it take
These days
To write a poem
That makes the world go mad
That brings the crowds to their feet
That spreads like wildfire
Through a dry winter forest
Is it those excessively long words?
The ostentatiously loquacious
Platitudinous ramblings
Of an insecure mind aspiring
To authentic intellect?
Is it perhaps...
the "creativity"
of varied spacing
or... could it be..... the lack
of capitalization
the loathsome little letters
screaming out
hey, look at us!
... or maybe it's
the punctuation marks,
littered, haphazardly
through the text
(whether used correctly)
or, theyre not?!
despite worrds mispeled
and a grammar might is broken
can these gimmicks increase interest
though miswritten or misspoken?
Is the trick alliteration
Whose bite brightly bids us
To center on the snappy sounds?
Although all along
unvoiced underneath
Ideas idle in the isles
(or perhaps the aisles)
Of the mind
To meld and craft and bind
Our thorough thoughts
And worthy words
Into lines
Which
Heard by herds
Raise the
Praise for which we
Privately, desperately
Pray
Maybe it's a magical mix
Of splendid in-your-head rhythm
Marvelous meter that perfectly clicks
Flowing smoothly without schism
Well-spaced stanzas
Well-used time
Well-crafted phrases
Well-thought-out rhymes
Well, maybe not...
those gems are often ignored
cast-aside, unread, even abhorred
Why?
Because the modern world
doesn't need your rules
your restrictions
your regulations
your misguided boundaries
your oppression
your antiquated ideas
of "the right way"
to write
to speak
to act
to live
to (fill in the blank)
No, what the modern world needs
is
Negation!
Contradiction!
Resistance!
Revolt!
And poetry whose words
Say the same thing
Repeat the same meaning
Echo the same lyrics
Rephrase the same thoughts
But in an ever-so-slightly
Different
Varied
Altered
Adjusted
Changed up way
Line
After line
Of synonyms
over
and
over
and
over
again
-----
What's it take
These days
To not give in
To narcissism's spiral?
But more importantly:
What's it take
To make my poem go viral?
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 7:37 AM UTC
We press our bodies together
Forcing separate atoms to form one
Of a new breed,
But it will never be achieved
We don’t bond
Just periodically breathe.
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
Melancholy;
Melt in lands
Unholy
In an abyss of
Harm supressed;
Between two palms pressed
Together.
Remind us we are
Desolate;
Descending to a
Solitary fate
Where days
Gloomy;
Glue me
To my memories
Cold cruelty and
Shame;
An attempt at shadowing
The untamed.
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 9:14 PM UTC