AB: Favorites

May 2017 AB

Blossoms

May 2017 AB

Laura Slaathaug

Blossoms

The artist paints yellow, pink, and red
roses on her canvas,
glints of blue at the edges
dripping and spilling.
Something for spring, she says.
She gently smiles,
her hand rubbing
the swelling curve
of her belly,
just a black shirt and ragged blue jeans
covering another kind of canvas.
Underneath
something else entirely
waits to bloom.

National Poetry Month Day 25

#napowrimo #flowers #art #spring #motherhood #artist #pregnancy

Mar 2017 AB

A Desert Place

Mar 2017 AB

Racquel Davis

A Desert Place

Imagine you are walking
Imagine
Imagine a place
A desert place
Where the heat steals your energy
This endless sea of sand ***** you in

You are imagining a place
Imagine
Gentle grassland
The full moon is enough to keep you sane
The wind whispers your name with a cool and warm voice

Imagine you are falling
Imagine
Barren sand in your mouth
Your face meets the horizon and it kicks you in the eyes as you sink
Your screams are heard by no other except the hand that saves you
And once more you are walking in the desert place again

©Copyright 2006 Written and Edited by Racquel Davis

This is an old poem I wrote in high school. It has been edited many times.

#depression #lost #apathy #hopelessness #helplessness

Mar 2017 AB

Road Crew

Mar 2017 AB

Jonathan Witte

Road Crew

Stalled in afternoon traffic
by the crack of a jackhammer
and the smell of hot asphalt,
what else is there to do but wait
for the sun-kissed woman
in muddy work boots and
orange vest to acknowledge me.

She has a tattoo of an AR-15
on her left forearm and more
ink (an octopus?) under her eye.

She is in total control.

Her unclasped safety
vest ***** in the wind.
The smoke from her
Marlboro Red snakes
down the line of cars
and wafts into my open
window with a smell
so strong she should
be riding shotgun.

She alone will deliver me.

As the jackhammer
fires on full auto,
I wait like a child
for my turn to go.

Her eyes squint and the octopus
squirms and my afternoon restarts
with another twist of her gloved hand,
the sign revolving from Stop to Slow.

Mar 2017 AB

just a day...

Mar 2017 AB

betterdays

just a day...

nothing much happened today
no great calamity, no suprising visitor
the cornflakes dried to a cement like
consistency in the chipped blue bowl
the tuxedo rex vomited on the newly bought
home beautiful magazine..

my heart beat at a lazy 74 beats per minute
when i checked after my nana nap
my bad ankle creaked and twinged
reminding me to get the towels in
before it rained

I made a wonderful chicken cashew curry
for dinner, but fogot to buy naan bread
and yogurt to accompany it..

I kissed the god boy goodnight,
then read two chapters of Harry Potter aloud
as the tuxedo rex, watched me, from the windowsill

marked some essays of dubious quality,
was given a shoulder massage,
by my agong surfer dude,
that led to much greater intimacies

no, nothing much happened today
yet it was fufilling, upon looking back
it had rhythm and purpose
turned the cogs of my world
it was the miles between the milestones
that often go unrecorded

and as I sit in the almost dark of the moon
I do believe it was one of the best days of my life

Feb 2017 AB

∞ when ∞ does ∞ it ∞ end ∞

Feb 2017 AB

Demonatachick

∞ when ∞ does ∞ it ∞ end ∞

You cannot break the broken, you can't live in the past, throw that memory away, you cannot let it stay, oh I wish I had the power to change every wasted hour, to knock down this growing tower under which I fearfully cower, in my ball of self regret.


                    I can remember:

               Tears that I have shed.

                 Lies that I have said.

                 Pain I have inflicted.

              Oh how I feel conflicted.

But know now this, for it is true, for all the things I can't undo, I'd never regret loving you.

No sleep = creativity, how does that work?
Oml this made the daily poem, thank you so much everyone!!

#love #broken #anger #regret #past #demon #remember

Feb 2017 AB

2.18.17

Feb 2017 AB

Alex Berthelot

2.18.17

panicked apologies spilled from my mouth that night.
and now they echo like a chorus in my mind
as if i never left that night behind.

“please, no”
“you don’t have to do this”
“i didn’t mean to make you angry”
“i’m so sorry”

i’m
s o r r y.

my words weren’t enough that night.

i felt the life draining from within me right before my eyes,
desperately trying to save whatever light there was left in me,
but i died.

i
d i e d.

the world around me turned dark
and soon blood started spilling from my veins
instead of flowing through my heart.

if i wasn’t enough to save myself that night,
will i ever be enough to pull myself back up towards the light?

#depression #abuse #ptsd #****** #recovery #assault

Dec 2016 AB

Untitled

Dec 2016 AB

Jordan

Untitled

I always swam
In the Atlantic
As a kid
But never crossed it
Until now
And now that I am
How I long
To have only
Touched the surface
Instead of cross it
Because you are not
Waiting for me
On the other side