Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
kiss the kids good bye,
send them out on
their own find-a-way paths,
merry or otherwise,
dispatched, once and forever,
stamped, franked, posted,
Gebbie delivered,^
the poems born, borne
   are gone

never look back,
once writ and gifted,
they are an only child,
not truly orphaned
   but without parentage

miss'ed every now and then,
see them as a drive-by victims,
hit and run casualties of passing poets,
who notifiy that they saw
"so and so"
and just wanted to
let me know,
   they're ok

but never look back,
they have been disowned,
each,
a natural birth poem,
must learn
the hard way,
to stand on its own,
tested by the cruelest proctor,
   hoary time

this is the way,
the only way,
birth mother and no more,
and this why,
some know me as,
  the poet of the way...

this is my way -
my poems are my
dispatched issue,
sent out themselves alone,
to experience
cell division,
mitosis and meiosis
spawning new poetic tissue,
find their own way of sharing

  their ancestral DNA
^ part time postman, part time poet, full time man, a veritable legend
marshall gebbie (HP)
Hush my dear
And do not cry
Rest your head
And close your eyes
Its time to go
And I've got the key
Hold my hand
And fly with me
Its time to go
To the land of dreams
Where is nothing is quite
What it seems
I will be here
To hold you tight
Through the depths
Of the night
There's no need to worry
You will see
When your imagination
Is free
As you can be anything
That you can think
Such as a bunny
Soft and pink
You could be a racing car
That races around town
Or a princess
In a golden crown
Or a monkey
Swinging from a tree
You could be anything
Don’t you agree
Now hush my dear
And close your eyes
And let your dreams
Soar into the skies
I wrote this for my littlest sister who is only four.
Till Thee End (In The Name of Love)

I’m like those freaks on the street that keep babblin’,
but my pockets are deep and I keep round the world traveling,

stress out no doubt life’s a trip which is why we’re falling in love,
in too deep flying off the cliff from a Leap of Faith in the Name of Love,

free fallin’,
I hear Heaven calling,
out my name,
“Aaron, Aaron.”,

wake up,
the show’s almost over,
you’ve contributed so much,
we should grant you an Oscar,

stage of life we all play our parts,
your art is something I’m in love with,

falling over again all in ready to go,
over the edge as we free fall everything is slow mo,

motion like oceans of waves in to deep in the deep blue see we go,

the whole show we go like the most brilliant Star burning up the universe,

the brightest Black Hole like a night in the dark where we shine like day glow,

oh,
I know,
it’s all more than just a bit intense,
and that’s,
okay,
because we are Heaven Sent,

received an RSVP to Heaven,
and of course I said “Hell Yes!”,

over zealous,
with reasons for this,
I’ve got grown men that depend,
on my money as their salary,

in too deep,
in the deep blue see,
see I used to be a runaway,
ran away and was raised by the streets,
so this whole business life is a little new to me,
I mean,
the exact fact is I’m not having kid,
in fact I’m donating everything I own to charity,
and to Nature Conservatories I will hand over all my properties,
see I’ve got all the responsibility in the world,
just have to learn how to manage it properly,

I’m probably,
talking to much again,
but I’m sorry I’m not sorry,
because you’ll understand if you’re a true friend,

till The End,

I’m like those freaks on the street that keep babblin’,
but my pockets are deep and I keep round the world traveling,

stress out no doubt life’s a trip which is why we’re falling in love,
in too deep flying off the cliff from a Leap of Faith in the Name of Love,

till The End…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
new book available worldwide:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1548700746
From the moment we
Met, I knew it was you who
Would repair my heart
Currently we judge,
Looking at angles to win
Just to please your own mind.

We throw insults and we fight,
We ignite fuel to our fingers
Tapping away like it's a race for popularity.

The world spins and spins,
Yet nothing really changes
Because we just keep spinning.

But it's as if we have weaved
Ourselves into a ditch of
Despairing linear paths.

As we watch, we listen, we observe
And try to become something else,
Something we're not supposed to be.

Just to let everyone know
That you watch the same things,
That you do the same things.

But then after it all we realise
As we grow older and as we mature,
We merely did nothing for ourselves.

We just followed the same road,
We followed the same destiny
And we lose ourselves in our journey.

At the end of it all we start to notice
We have taken the wrong path,
And the other roads are too far away.

So we turn into the side-roads,
Which lead to nothing but plagued floors
Broken doors and empty souls.

Mobiles have taken love out of ***,
Generations have missed out
How it feels to actually be connected.

You make love and your phone rings,
People stop to answer like your moments
Aren't precious enough with loved ones.

We eat meals at restaurants
With our families and friends,
All I see is arched necks and fiery fingers.

I wish I was in a time when we spoke
To one another about our days,
Not about a video that has gone viral.

I wish that as I grow and my children
Will walk amongst the earth I have,
It won't **** them into inevitable fates.

I don't want them to be another
White sheep hopping the same fence,
Like the rest of this miserable world.

Systems have taken individualism
Out of individuals and get labelled weird,
They give us titles like "OCD, ADHD".

I'm not either, and I don't actually have
A label to my name, yet I feel I should
I feel why shouldn't I?

After all I like to think different,
I like to think one day we will see
The clear glass in front of us.

But most of all, I truly hope one day,
We can become a better world
Instead of repetition in characters.
Just some quick thoughts I had on my brain. But this type of thing doesn't get spoken about enough. This may "offend" some, but I only speak in truths. My heart can only love so much until it gets stretched beyond its limit.
 Jul 2017 Guadalupe Meza
K
my soul is
wandering
and i am
wondering
if it is
wandering
in search of you or
wondering
about the idea of you
Weary, so weary. ..
Exhausted I'm spent.
I'm broke down,
I'm damaged,
Ive got nothing left.

Weakness taken hold,
Strength nonexistent.
Dazed and confused,
I just need a minute!

To catch my breath!
To find my sight!
Before I lose my balance!
Just hold on!
One more step!
Where's the map?
I'm lost!
I've had it!

With bones of glass,
With paper skin,
With hands that won't quit shaking.
I can't hold on,
Alone again,
I'm cracked, I'm suffocating.

My mind frazzled,
My heart defeated.
My courage lost at sea.
Dragging my baggage,
I stand at the edge,
I cannot even see!

I scream straight from my soul.
Holler out with no control.
Fatigued, defenseless, collapsed,
Silent tears soak my knees.
I sob, I weep, I cry out loud,
Why me,
Can't breath,
Knocked to the ground.

Yet no one will know,
Or don't seem to care.
How fragile they've made me,
Each taking their share.
I beg, I plea, I gag on spite,
I hear them laugh in great delight.

They light me up,
They burn me down.
They dance on top,
They spin around.
They drag me under,
They watch me suffer,
They walk away,
They grin and chuckle.

Gasping for life,
Pull myself from the rubble,
A shadow of ashes,
An outline in dust,
Flames lit in my soul,
Give strength from within.
A Phoenix I rise,
No choice,
I must.
Glass is  Sharpest when Broken™  By Nadia DeLevea
~

a strange place to start
having not truly begun,
already beat down by the
lowdown

own a million rose colored words,
but some assembly required,
that's when the foreknowledge truth~rules
burns brain holes

easy is never
free,
poetry writing is
cussing hard work

~
spring rains cloaking warmth,
summer's stunning sunsets
demand submissive awed silence,
autumnal leave drops anointing
your refreshed humanity,
and yet,
one more time,
it is only within winter's white bitterness
lip tasting,
million tear-shaped snowflaked words,
is the crowning visible
of the head of
a newborn babe poet

                                        ~                  ­                            

hard.

Capital Hard.

in the beginning,
there was one,
a first work

and the knowing,
if it wasn't hard,
it could not be
any good,
makes it possible
to ease on
down
this fearful
revelationary road
trip
Born May 22, 2015
My first poem.
Next page