Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kevin Williams Oct 2017
Pull your weight you slimy ****
Don't disappear when burdens near
Swooping back when credit's due

Lies and tricks your stock and trade
Avoiding toil with decisions unmade
Waddling about looking haggard
 
Don't load my back to spare your own
Noisily posturing with one eye roaming
To preen and bluster as the lions pass
We all know one.
Kevin Williams Oct 2017
I want to write fantasy
I keep writing poety
I want to write something bigger than the truth
I write things small but heart felt
I want to write fantasy
teach lessons elusive
I want to write a story that lasts
and find these simple words
I want to write fiction holding secrets
buried links for the dedicated
This is what I write
I want to write poety?
No, no I want to write fantasy
Right?
Kevin Williams Oct 2017
The whipcord strength of the last thread that tethers you to her, is yours to cut if you could but find the edge.
Kevin Williams Oct 2017
The wide red road, it rolls so far
Red dust staining scalding tar.
He walks alone, friend by his side
Heat haze hiding measured stride.
His broad brown hat, salt stained and holed
Is known along the long red road.

Strangers know him, they nod hello
He spares a smile that says good bye,
It's nice to see you, I've got to go.
His friend keeps pace and never slows
She's always with him and hardly there
The hot red road, the silent pair.

On they walk till town surrounds
The one tall lot is where they're bound
Into blessed shade they step and sigh
Broad brim hat now by his side

The woman nods, and turns to tap
The bar now holds the salt stained hat
As cold dew beads down frosted glass
he slowly sips, his first, his last

By his stool his friend will wait
Till ritual through and thirst is sate.
Then to the door the pair will turn
Hat to head, and to the red road, return.
I wrote this simply as an exercise in imagery. I truly have no idea what I'm doing, so any constructive criticism is welcome.
Kevin Williams Oct 2017
In the quiet it waits
that dark dry place.
Where thoughts avoided shatter peace
and memories roam so free of leash
The pains of heart in noise he escapes but in the quiet it waits
The thoughts avioded in days clutter
never heard past constant mutter, 
they all return once voices stutter
and cease to drown the ponders inner
Still in the quiet it waits
Head laid to rest, rest out of reach
as thoughts again will shatter peace
and once again when he awakes
For in the quiet it waits
So into noise he wades with speed
to clear his head with busy deed
The clash and clang of action breeds
peace of a kind in tethered mind
Still in the quiet it waits
Distraction holds a brief reprieve
Until the sounds begin to thin
and day dreams darken, distort, deceive
becoming the thought he sort to leave
He knows that time will bring release
That troubled thought will one day cease and peace will one day,
in the quiet
wait.

— The End —