Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
My hands are tied in knots
To sweet slicked railings
I'm slipping
Slipping
Dig your nails in deeper
to my consciousness
So I can hold on just a little longer
Before I fall into a deep desired
chasm
So hot
it sends chills down my spine
I'm drowning in touches
Breathing in vibrations
Eyes are meant for devouring devotions
Tangled in blanket waters

Kiss my pen harder
so my words imprint deeply
upon the sheets
 Apr 2014 Curtis
Analise Quinn
One day I'll see the world,
Have dust on my feet
From a thousand different lands.

I'll travel with dusty feet,
Musty books,
Camera in hand,
Adventure beckoning me on.

Maybe I'll have no home,
I'll be a wanderer-
Maybe we need more gypsies-
Maybe I'll have
Barely a penny to my name.
I'll spend it all on plane tickets,
I'll earn my roof and food
By telling stories,
Penning poems.

Maybe when I'm an old lady,
People will tell stories
Of the crazy girl
Who came from a town so small
She had to travel the world
To find out more
About who she was.

Maybe people will be talking
Before I've even left,
About the crazy girl
With crazy dreams
Who's going to do crazy things
And change a crazy world.

But being called crazy
Is a small price to pay
To do things no one's done.

It just means I realize
The stars aren't so far away
If you know how to believe.

It just means
I'll have stardust
On my feet
From a thousand different suns.
 Apr 2014 Curtis
Katie Nicole
today i thought of you,
i craved to sit with you and chat.
i had forgotten how you left me,
how you want no part of "that".

the rain washes down the window,
drowning my soul in part.
now the only rush i feel
is an empty, broken heart.

i watched you grow to love me,
waiting for you to commit.
who knew i'd be left lonely,
this is life now. this is it.
 Apr 2014 Curtis
Sierra Carleton
It feels like
A rippling tide,
Crashing down
Above your head.
A pulling sensation
Over your heart
A little to strong
To be gentle.
A screaming wind
Piercing through your body
Stabbing at your ears.
A horrendous lunge
From a hungry lion
After failing to catch prey.
At the same time
It’s like…
A lullaby
Gracefully pulling you
Into a deep slumber.
An energizing drink
From a cup of gold
After a year without rain.
The feel of sultry lips
Pressed on your skin
Urgent, but slow
Creating a rush from within.
The cookies your mom made
When you were a kid
A delicacy you’re hoping
You would receive again.
 Apr 2014 Curtis
Jayanta
Consecrate us
to grow more!

Bless us
to climb high!

Craft us
to become helpful and useful to all!
Furnish us vigour
to stand sturdily !

Radiance us    
to swell your splendour and simplicity every where!
There many community in the North Eastern part of India who perceived Bamboo as a representation of God. There is a festival call ‘Bhatali’ in western part of Assam, where two Bamboo pole are decorated as bride and groom, ***** it on a tree, rituals are offered.  ‘Sonuwal Kachari’ a tribal community organized a festival called ‘Bah Gosai Puja’ (Bamboo God Rituals) in the first week ‘Bohag’ the first month of Indian Calendar( usually between April -15 to May-15). The Koch Rajbongshi people offer similar rituals in rainy season (in July) at Night; they consider Yellow Bamboo as the representation of God.    Apatani people Arunachal ***** a bamboo installation in front of their houses, believes it will protect  their house. So, Bamboo groves are maintained in every ethnic village here in North Eastern Part of India.  Bamboo is considered as poor man friend; Bamboo provides food, medicine, building material, resources for their craft etc. The words in the poem tries to summarized prayer offered in such rituals.
 Apr 2014 Curtis
SG Holter
Perianth
 Apr 2014 Curtis
SG Holter
Even human hands
Unclench
In spring.

Calyx
Fingers.

Look: This flower
Opens to offer; this
To recieve.
 Apr 2014 Curtis
SG Holter
The peace with which you rest
Reminds us: You were
Somewhere
Else before.
This world, it screams in violent
Dreams, but you know
Not the ways
Of war.

Deepest contrast -black to bright-
The way you smile
While others fight.
Could it be behind those
Eyes you see
The true
Reality?

The adult here is you alone,
The child is rampant
-Running free.
Fighting over toys and candy
While you're resting
Peacefully.
 Apr 2014 Curtis
Bjørn O Holter
I fold my poem
into an intricate rose
still she has no scent
first attempt at a haiku
Next page