Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Aug 2015 Amanda In Scarlet
JDK
I don't want to turn you into my confessor,
but I'm quickly becoming obsessed with telling you my thoughts.
Too much honesty can get everything *******,
and my heart's already in knots.
'fraid*
 Aug 2015 Amanda In Scarlet
Helen
as I make my way up the stairs
he plants his body in front of me
as a greeting
wanting to wrap arms around me
to see me safely home
to greet me from my roam
as I divest the armament
of a blistering painful day
his touch soothes the fire
whispering enlightenment
hands softly stroking skin
bleeding away the ire
Greeted as a conquering Queen
treated with gentle words
soothed with a scorching touch
bathed in lulling herbs
of richly scented water
drawn in a bath so warm
floating under heavenly scents
and basking, undisturbed
in a world of total chaos
reminiscent of wars we fought
and lost
Every day is a do over
a clean slate
no ones the boss
I'm just the lucky one
returning home
after braving a world gone mad
Just one little lady
loved by her Man
enough to appreciate her experiences
to greet her every day
at the door
to make her glad
she's coming home
This virtual world still carries weight,
an invisible pond where words echo,
events spiral and ripple,
and we see the masks before the dark.

Evil hides beneath these still waters,
even in the light,
reflected on us all,
but never who we are.
I keep myself halfway dead
Between the cobwebs and the window
Misty morning air
Sifting through
Wheat fields—
The hair of this earth

Sometimes
I close my eyes
And fall into myself
The peach-colored abyss
You know, it took me so long to realize
That it was never me
Come on, Lady Luck
Throw the dice, spin
the wheel or draw a straw

tell me which way to go
which of these verses
would make his heart sing

for we poets are sirens
driving men to the rocks
& the clock waits so patiently

in the corner, in on the plan
& the city is a memory
sketched in teenage graffiti

& I'm Iggy's ' Passenger'
on a never-ending train
seeing my youth calling again

passing by me
behind cracked glass
beckoning the imagination

laughing, teasing:
' Are you lucky, Miss'
the answer comes : silence

like before the beginning of the world
Next page