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 Feb 2016 Adele
Pax
enough?
 Feb 2016 Adele
Pax
what is enough
when you crave so much
?

shout-out!
 Feb 2016 Adele
Paul Butters
Pleased to meet you.
But you better be pleased to meet me!
For I am the only one who is Me.
And I’m the only one who counts,
For I’m the one who’s experiencing all this:
For me.
Get it?

Doesn’t matter if you are the US President
Or Putin,
Or anyone else “Important”.
Nobody can affect
That what I experience
Is what I experience.

Nobody else will go through
Whatever I go though.
Nobody else will die with me,
Unless we happen to meet the same fate
Together!

You may be Royal
Or Rich,
Or All Powerful,
But all that matters to me
Is Me.

Maybe I’m Mad in saying this.
Perhaps the Whisky has taken hold.
Better than being depressed
I have to say.
Euphoria is better than gloom.

You too can be
As crazy as me.
Just free your mind
From the daily grind.

Never let those *******
Grind you down.

Love yourself
And Love
Whatever there is
To Love.

Paul Butters
The Whisky sits well with me......
 Feb 2016 Adele
Gaby Comprés
am i not brave?
am i not still here?
isn't that the sound of my heart,
beating?
don't my eyes still wonder at the
stars above them?
has my soul stopped singing?
its voice is weak and
its light has dimmed,
but i can still hear my song,
i can still see my light.
i haven't left.
i am still here.
i am brave.
 Feb 2016 Adele
Mike Essig
Aeromancy
 Feb 2016 Adele
Mike Essig
February a baleful month
dabbed with deep darkness,
the calendar's mortuary
nature's own Gulag.
Its window opens upon
possible impossibilities
none of which yield joy.
Crows plummet murderously
from the heavens
vainly trying to flee
into spring but merely splat.
Roads are crushed
beneath a carpet of ****.
Frosted blimps soar naked.
Boots refuse to stay tied.
Your parent's nightmares
freeze your sweaty sleep.
Snow falls like dead swans.
Eclairs crystallize into
lumps too solid to enjoy.
A month of undeserved
solitary confinement
that trembles the soul.
A deep achromatic terror
keening coldness
in a huge white wail
penetrating the ears
until march stops
the madness and hope
blossoms as crocuses,
apricity achieved,
small phosphorescent
dots of desire.

  ~mce
I hate February.
Wildflower 'neath a
     giant weeping willow,
         comforted by the shade
  her fragrance wafting darkly
      whispered into the wind ~
   she'd been 'betrayed by the sun',
frail tendrils blistered
     of indiscretion below
            burning discrimination,
   fallen neath the cracks
        suffocating a delicate essence,
she could no longer bear the
   deep-rooted superficiality  
         of seeds buried within *****
                    little implanted secrets
Rose petals devoured

   of inky promises

blush off garden passages

  of amaranthine radiance,

written words decayed

  on  bruised vines

   of intertwining madness,

as poetry climbed the

    walls of befallen sunlight
 Feb 2016 Adele
Liam C Calhoun
His toy split my toe nail.
My crimson flirted carpet.

and;

He’d the arm of a major.
Where I’d the skin of the solemn.

but;

He’d ever by my son.
I’d ever be his father.

and;

“Bravery’d” be our name,
“Bravery’d” be our name.
Waiting for his mother; it's been so long.
 Feb 2016 Adele
ryn
Square
 Feb 2016 Adele
ryn
I was once a shape...
Equally jointed,
at four opposite points.

I was a square...
I never knew the way of the world.
Never open to new experiences,
even when they presented themselves bare...
Even when the shrouds of uncertainty
were wiped away leaving the future unfurled.

I grew up...
Huddled under the roof set above me,
with four walls that kept me safe and sheltered.
That was the entire universe.
That was all I saw...
Views so narrow and uneventful...
A life so bland with the fun bits all sheared.

Never brought up to question...
Never given the time and space to think.
There was always a yardstick upon which I was measured.
The sea of expectations was vast but shallow...
So I could wade forever,
but never sink.

I was once a shape...
No one then expected me to be other than a square.
I had everything I needed,
all within the confines of imposing cordons and tapes.
But the world would constantly rap on the windows.
Peddling its fantastical ware.
It would entice with its secrets and mysteries.
Boasting the wonderful stories it'd like to share.
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