Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
You’ve stuck with me
through thick and thin
just like a tick,
you’re under my skin.

© Matthew Harlovic
This could be applied to a few things.
 Jul 2016 Siren Coast
Corvus
Before identities and allegiances are even confirmed,
The cries of anger rise up like a thick, black smoke,
Heavy and suffocating, it flows through streets,
Over the English Channel, across oceans,
Seeping into social media and blanketing all else.
Cries for vengeance,
Vengeance,
Vengeance.
And those cries barely manifested into a wisp
When Beirut was attacked the day before Paris.
I didn't see any Facebook pictures of the flag of Lebanon.
Do any of us even know what the flag of Lebanon looks like???
To **** innocent people is a crime except when we do it,
Then it's "There are always casualties of war,"
But if this isn't a war except when we're killing people,
Can it really be called a war?
We care so much about the injustice of it,
How the innocent are mowed down without mercy,
That we want those bombs dropped and we want them dropped now.
When those bombs destroy homes and blast children's limbs apart,
Bloodless and pale, until the area looks like it used to be a porcelain doll factory...
Will we all have Syrian flags for our Facebook pictures?
For long, my house has been lying deserted
My gate has not been opened wide to let in anyone
No guest has so far come to visit me
Tired of distant wanderings
I have come here to listen to the beat of silence
Occasionally broken by the sound
Of birds' laughing wings overhead
Here I have brooding shadows for company
Hermit like I wrap myself in my solitude

Now abruptly when you announce your arrival
I feel excited and equally perplexed
What shall I serve you? I am at a loss
My hearth has not been lighted for long
And my kitchen pots remain empty
I know I should serve you
Something chilled or warm
In my menu, I have a simple surprise
But not of the edible kind
Nor delectable to your palate
But as I have known you since long
I hope it will appease you

In poetry’s platter
I shall serve my thoughts warm,
Garnered in the lonely hours
Of my solitude!

The only dish I have!
 Jul 2016 Siren Coast
Morgan
How much liquid must collect
in one space before we call it a flood?
Cause the current's picking up
on me & no one seems to notice

Have you ever felt
your ribs shifting
around inside of you?
No pain,
just an acute awareness
that you are in fact
nothing more than
a contrivance of instruments
working together to exist,
To live,
To stay

That's kinda how it feels when
you're trying to catch your breath
but the oxygen can't find your lungs...

It feels like
Knowing

Knowing
that you are
Fragile

And there's fear
but it's quiet---
muffled like
your wheezing

When he left that morning
I actually felt his absence,
In my hands-
The emptiness was tangible
For the first time-

I reached for the back of his shirt
and he shook me away before
I could pull him into me

His cheap detergent
left a starchy film
on my finger tips

And I knew
that was the last time

Like when the faucet runs cold
Before you're finished bathing
- You feel ***** all day

I felt ***** all day

I just want to know
Less

I don't want to be so
Full of all of this

He smells like
salt water
He smells like
cherry incense
He smells like
soft cologne
And
a lit cigarette
He smells like
fresh winter air-
His skin is warm
But his kiss is cold

I couldn't
Stop
The drifting

I couldn't
Stop
The wandering

I couldn't
Stop
The leaving

He was never
Going to
Stay

Why am I like this,
Still to this day?
Next page