Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I fill my bowl
with a wicked
word stew
stirring stirring
words
supping up
delicious verbs,
spilling some nouns
while savoring
other sounds
then packing them all
in my current
favorite notepad.
Then onto my laptop.
Come on my Love! Let us move to the East
Where the sun resurrects after his interim death
Where darkness first gives way to light
And life renews itself every morn

Look to the East beyond those crooked hills
Where poplars grow tall in line
And wild weeds hem the edges of pathways
Where bunnies and squirrels hop and jump
And merrily run round the trees
Where the wind moves whistling through bamboo reeds
Where the laughing cataract leaps down from the rocks
And flow along in silvery rills
Where the languorous breeze plays upon the leaves

Away from the tumult, far from the crazy crowd
With the pandemonium of the world
Hushed to serene silence
Let us move to that sequestered glade
Of perennial greenery,
through the sunlit grove
Where we shall walk hands locked
Till the bright day gives way to dusky night
Inhaling night air in scented perfume
Under the stillness of a star lit sky
Through moon blanched woods, mysterious
Listening to the sweet whispering of our soul
And ‘drinking life to the lees’ from the chalice of love

Oh! Come on,
Let us not tarry…. Let’s go!
Sheltered under a tree of naivety.
Family failing to exist.
Each eye gazing above.
Dwarfed by clouds of misfortune.

Little flower holding on tight.
Doesn't seem to surrender without a fight.
Trickling leaves brush away.
Thunderous roar, bark decays.

Swarling winds with cyclones around.
Dancing words twist profound.
White fades to black.
Situation echos something nil.
Ending with a concussive shock.

Hands retrieve a golden watch.
Time sits still, unwilling to move.
Though, it's over; it's nothing new.

Argument interrupts tranquility.
Child left speechless, wondering "why?"
Shadows doom them all.
Together they cry.
There is something in her body
that longs for compassion.
As a black hole breaks
beneath her chest
causing her to implode with grief
collapsing like a star
there is an innate longing
for the mercy of a soft touch.
A touch that might not negate
instead ease the destruction
that dwells within
the infinite pain
that has become her life.

So as she trembles
on the verge of cracking
like fancy china
of being unable to
hold anything ever again
let someone hold her hand,
let some hug her tightly,
or gently as she needs.
It will not end such sorrow
but it may soften that
jagged rock of pain.
 Nov 2016 Poetic Thoughts
Love
After that night the bags under my eyes never went away and streams of white hair made their appearance.
My insides felt like they were planning a revolt and every bit of humanity I had left vanished with a siren like shriek.
My tears felt like acid and the carpet still looks bleached where they fell from the waterfall on my face.
My breath had been stolen by the two ton weight on my chest and I didn't want it back.
My heart had proclaimed its demise because surely nothing can strive after being torn in two.
My eyes wept, my mind wept, even the hands that you used to hold so dear have wept.
After that night my fear has never went away, and even with death, my love never will.

*Some broken hearts just cannot mend.
 Nov 2016 Poetic Thoughts
Love
"God. You're so ugly without your makeup. You know you really shouldn't show your face in public. You don't want to end up on that People of Walmart website."

Yeah I know.

"No seriously. You look like you've been hit by a bus."

Nope. Not hit by a bus. Just your ****** comments.

"You know they say sarcasm is just a deflection of an internal struggle, it's an underling issue to something bigger. Maybe you're going crazy."

I'm not going crazy. I'm getting my **** together. I'm in college now.

"Yeah, sure."

No. I wake up at a reasonable hour everyday. I take a shower and do my hair and make up. I do my homework and I make good grades. How can I be crazy when I'm getting my **** together. I have my **** together!

"Look at your room."

What about it?

"It's a mess."

So what?

"It's a mess. Just like you are. You are a mess."

I am not.

"You can shut the door and pretend it doesn't exist. Just like you're doing with that mask you put on every morning. Beyond these walls you're a fake. But behind them, they show who you truly are."

And what's that?

"That you're crazy and chaos. Your room represents what's on the inside. You're falling apart."

I am not crazy.

"Not crazy? As if. You've just been talking to your reflection for the past 10 minutes. Just like you have every day for the past four years. Just wait sweetie, one day I'll come out and play."
 Nov 2016 Poetic Thoughts
Love
KNT
 Nov 2016 Poetic Thoughts
Love
KNT
You are still the pain in my chest.
You are the person I long for on cold winter nights and I dream of you arms around my waist.
I still ache for your lips on mine and those three simple words.
I wish I had the strength to hate you, but it's taking everything I have not to love you with every breath.
You are the knots in my stomach and tear on my cheek.
You are still the pain in my chest.
You are every part of me that I loathe.
I wish I could hate you.
Next page