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 May 2016 Autumn
Grey
Fingers
 May 2016 Autumn
Grey
When she held me, I felt like an earthquake,
shrapnel cutting quick to the bone.
I’m disaster, an unknown
kind of danger is the most dangerous

When he held me, I felt like a riptide,
all control ran out the door.
With the *** and cappuccinos
I felt out of place in my new home

When she held me, I felt disgusting,
every move my own betrayal.
Yes, she hurt like a gunshot
but I did this to myself

When he held me, I felt strange,
like I should give my whole self.
He never asked, I’m thankful.
I don’t want to ruin everything else

When she held me, I felt like a secret,
like I was something small and wild.
In a room of screaming children,
we were something invincible

He never held me, but that’s alright.
Someone tell him I understand.
Take it slow, like we’re new friends.
I’m alive for once

No one touch me, I don’t want it.
Stop breathing down my neck.
My throat fills with *****,
But the hands never rest

No one touch me, leave me alone.
Stop pressing on my back.
There are thumbprints on my wrist bones
and handprints on my thighs

Don’t touch me when you aren’t here.
So many years have passed.
Is it trauma? I don’t care.
The filthy feeling always lasts

Don’t touch me when you aren’t here.
Nobody ever has to know.
When you’re sitting by your lonesome
Nobody cares, you’re on your own

Nobody cares, you’re on your own
 Apr 2016 Autumn
JL
Dye
 Apr 2016 Autumn
JL
Dye
I have drempt:
Lucidly, she dyes the edges clay-colored  
Eyeing eye she aligns her body with the North Star
She shivers without notice
        Ocher eyes alive
she speaks in new forms of divination
And the weather is in her palm
Trick of light    trick of eye
Her sigh awakens 9 Ravens
     without thought
            She is
    Caught in the spider web
         Spun
Autumnal ghost
Beneath Harvest moon
    swoons at the bark of the dire wolf
Without care
making eye contact
Running fingers through the silver fur
  Paying close attention to scars
Letting him drink
From lips of pink
The milk of first-kiss
And leads him home  
To a palace of bone
Humming tunes that only dogs know
Her head is light on his chest
She listens to his heart beat
Beating Eagles wing
In time
In rhyme
A tune
Of runes
Smooth Aquarius
Flowing through the toes
Of purple mountains
Spilling waterfalls and
Filling frigid
Black pools rimmed
By moss caked stone

Leaves scarlet, and hay colored
Float aimlessly on the surface of her

Peaked
Ears Stung and bit of wind
She listens whole body tensed
bow string
face    Sun stained
ethereal
Enamored
swimming in the aphotic
Lake of his soul
He plays the dulcimer of shadow
Next to fire
& the light of her blossom
exposing
Waterfall
flow
Through snow mountains
Piqued
His attention
When she dances languid
To
Forgetten tunes that only the owl knows
****
she dances star soaked
Scarlet tulips pressed
Fill every page of her mind
Preserved eternal
You can find her poetry here
http://hellopoetry.com/dye/
 Mar 2016 Autumn
JL
Less
 Mar 2016 Autumn
JL
I thought it
A carousel spinning
Music and light

Presumed 
It a blade of grass
Or shadow bent by
**** form

Maybe the strand of silk hair
Ribbon disrupted from a high place
To fall on cheek

But I am wrong
This single:

True love
Is but
Raw pain unmingled
 Mar 2016 Autumn
JL
Untitled
 Mar 2016 Autumn
JL
Fifty anchors in his chest
In the stomach coffee &
Two eggs
Revolver heavy in hand
God could stop him
But stands
 Mar 2016 Autumn
Mike Hauser
As I read your poetry
I wonder if it's true
Do the demons that help in rhyme
Really have a hold of you

And is the one you say you love
Not returning you the favor
In the poems that you pen
Is this all your life's behavior

Does your father really raise his fist
While your mother screams
As alcohol flows freely in your life
Or is it just poetry

Are you on the verge of suicide
And do you truly cut yourself
Do you feel that worthless in your life
Is what you write a cry for help

As I read your poetry
It often sets me off to wonder
Do you write about yourself
Or do you write about another
I know poetry is a therapy for many of you and just want you to know it breaks my heart at what some of you go through...
As always you are in my prayers...
perhaps it is the weather
a prolonged absence of the sun
or presence of the winter cold
or just a temporary fashion

the media as well as many webbéd sites
simply abound with dreary blather
     of lovers lost and death so cold
     the lonesomeness of every single soul
     and how s/he suffers when s/he writes
spelled out at length with no discretion

we know that people suffer from depression
or unquenchable anger at the world
and how through proper treatments
you can considerably relieve the pain

fix them in words is one of them
    but may not be enough
sometimes a mix of pills and pen
may do the trick and help you
    write yourself through your misty prison walls
    discover unlocked doors hidden in plain sight
    step out into the sunshine
        from the darkest night

you are the sun
    whose radiance illuminates the world
    lends brilliance to your life
    sheds light on everything you’ve done

and soon you’ll notice
even the weather is getting bether …
 Mar 2016 Autumn
JL
Leaflet or scorpion I care
Not
I am unstoppable
And loved
Looking not to the left or right
Walking straight honest
Fist clenched anarchist
I am true from seed
A Greyhound pure breed
I've caught a scent
Now in chase full speed
Cherishing
Pangs of honesty
Stabbing delicate ego
I stand alone at the
Gallows
Revolting against this
Modern world
Til my dying breath
Fully bloomed
My life will be
A chrysanthemum
Soaked by dew
Dyed oxblood petals
Sword and pen
Will of lead
Some reggae in head
4 dogs & a laugh
By music I fly
Rebeling with grace
Saving no face
So out of step that
Even the boot on my throat
Gives me hope   
Without gimmick
Love simplistic
Révolte contre le monde moderne
 Mar 2016 Autumn
JL
Introvert
 Mar 2016 Autumn
JL
I retreat into myself
Into the corridors of me
I lounge on the well worn flagstones
Gazing on the marble columns
Arranging tapestries and paintings in
A more perfect order
I stalk down old hallways and explore unnamed galleries with a
Single candle to push back the deep
Sometimes rooms are filled with old Furniture
Sometimes entirely empty
Once feeling brave I held onto
The threshold of such a room and
Stretching out I hold the candle aloft in the chasm. Nothingness, darkness complete the light puddles at my feet pitiful.
When I recall that yawning abyss the silence of
It persists.
In ballrooms I play Chopin's waltzs' for no one  in particular
Yet I take my bow and my place at the head of a table set for a score of kings
I lay on marble steps trying to guess the riddles that my echo whispers
I climb the  towers and the spires to dizzying heights and many weeks I was lost in the labyrinth of cellars of basements of tombs beneath
I have seen strange things lately: a chair upturned or
Bed unmade, quills still wet, and doors open and shut of their own volition in the inky black
I swear I have seen before
A tall figure in a hooded cloak dart
Into the shadows, and it did not seem
Altogether human

I read for years inside my library  
And have spoken at length to Shakespeare and Plato
I have seen Yggdrasil and the seven hells
And sped through time with
H.G Wells. Of death and moon, of birds and galaxies I am enamored.
Tea with Julius Ceaser, chess with Captain Hook.
Breakfast with The Buddah
Coffee with The Christ
Did you know that Captain Ahab takes His water with a squeeze of lime? No Ice. Abraham Lincoln and Mark Twain know me by my first name, I have fenced with the Gods of Olympus and of Asgard and I remain undefeated. The divine crowd my hearth and many nights have been passed here in quiet conversation, with Confucius, with Archimedes, with Epictetus, Davinci, and the brothers Grimm
I have lived ten thousand lives and Will live another ten

-Without a single thought of you-

I wander
To my garden
Gently lit by paper lanterns
The path is smooth and heady
The amber blossoms
And weathered sculptures
Make my eyelids heavy
Monuments with fists clenched beat my
Ego ******
New flowers sprout from the ivy throat
Always things are grown but never overgrowing
I steal through the hedge maze that only I know
To the secret center where no plant grows
Pavilion and pond
Where no bird sings year long
In that quiet I endeavor
To look without fear
Into the pupil of forever
Some say writing is a good outlet
Some say writting is a good inlet
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