Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Gabrielle Oct 2021
The freckled yellow flowers
Smell like a breath in
Roots braid and knot the ground
Mange begetting rainbows

A thousand leaves palms up to the sun
Indifferent of the rain
Weathered are the paths that led me
To my mother's garden again.
Gabrielle Sep 2021
I took time for a walk
And she pulled on the leash
At first, I kept my ground
Heels lifted tip-toeing arm outstretched
Eventually I had to follow my shoulder  

She led me past streets and streets
Of large houses full of large people
Symmetrical windows and faces
Coarse grass reached through my shoes

With a slow jog, we came to a field
My feet landing in every crack in the pavement
The sun sat square in the centre of the sky
As we left the sky turned to ocean

Running now through neon and road signs
Swimming in the dark rain
Puddles splash as we pick up the pace
Diverting onto the road

My 20s were a flurry of leaves
On grey morning ground
I know I have much further to go
But. I'm already halfway

My 30s were a sprint
My 40s a still faster walk
50s, 60s, 70s
We finally slow

I wander now
Between each step is an infinity
But each foot fall
Passes in an instant

I walk closer and closer to the evening sun
A shadow extends behind me forever
And the way reaches in front of me even longer
draft
Gabrielle Sep 2021
My love is a Wednesday morning
His love is a hug from small hands

But you can't hug a day
And small hands can't cook breakfast
Gabrielle Dec 2020
Poseidon reared his unkempt head
Above the waves today
An ocean monster dripped in dread
Chest to chest with the bay

“Today, or any day at all!”
The shore-side heard his plea
Salt shucked shoulders tall as islands small
“No being shall ever challenge me!”

One gull omitted a thoughtful word
Which sounded much like “Rak!”
One offended brow raised at what he heard
Poseidon countered with a slap

Five foul fingers touched the sky
And fell upon the sea
A wave as great as mountains high
Sighed upon the beaches knee

With a drunken beat of lazy wing
The gull escaped his perch
Finding another on which to cling
Without a moment’s search

Fists clenched around the shallows
Poseidon was enraged
With urchin riddled lips pursed he bellowed
And blew the beach away

Up went beachgoers along the coast
Into the sandy storm
Sun chapped mums beginning to roast
Castling children, One man named Norm

Gull glided softly on the wind
Providing a flap or two
And to the defeated Poseidon's chagrin
Let out a cantankerous coo

In one last fit of aqueous rage
Posiedon surfaced to land
And in a briny blind rampage
Grabbed the gull with swole hands

Gull in hand Poseidon yelled
“What dare you mean sly poultry?
My kingdom is unparalleled,
All pilgrims seek my choultry”

But the oily gull slipped through his grip
And flew quite far away
And as he watched it dive and dip
He came to see the bay

Debris was strewn across the sand
His subjects were in ruin
Disaster spread across the land
And it was all his doin’

A desperate shade turned Poseidon
As he returned to the great deep
“What use am I as a mighty king
If protection I cannot keep?”

That is how a seagull won
Against The God of Sea
Who forgot about his job, just one,
To keep the big blue world carefree
This poem is a story about Poseidon and a seagull, initial draft
Gabrielle Dec 2020
Rain befalls the afternoon like a heavy blanket
A blanket under which I rest
Legs crossed and crossed and crossed
Neck curved as a comma,
The smallest body you have seen

Nothing is mine
My arms, my hands, my head
The water that falls
Lands on nothing that belongs

Nothing is ours
The sky, the ground, the air
Skin becomes wet
Skin and water with no owner
This poem is about feelings of depersonalisation and derealisation, as well as discomfort in one's own body.
Gabrielle Dec 2020
Wet tears against
White wall against
Warm cheek

Loose hands beside
Two people beside
Each other

Several stiff breaths
A few more steps

One stands
To say they
Can't stand them
Anymore

Against turns to beside
And slightly turned away

Enough to say it's over
But too little to miss the day

The other person walks forward
Not too far ahead
If you tried to you could reach them
but see, your hands are dead

Maybe you could catch them
Maybe we all could've

But directions find directions
And we were facing corners

We leave each other behind
And are left behind as well
We do it all the time
If only we could tell

That against turns to beside
And beside turns to far away
Further and further we drift
Until we return to clay
This poem is about divorce and break-ups.
Gabrielle Dec 2020
I hate my house
Every corner every corridor
I hate the doorknobs, hate the windows
Despise the bump on the kitchen floor

Every drip of the bathroom tap is agony
The backyard and every tree
I can't stand the way it screeches
Against the lightest breeze

I hate the chairs, I hate the tables
Light bulbs, curtains, endless stains
Sockets stuffed with cables
Set fire to my brain

I hate the way my house stares at me
I wish it would just stop
The wallpaper I have memorised
Is now my life's' backdrop

The doors slam against my hands
The shower burns my feet
My heavy mind with all its' might
Runs up and down my street

My heart is fixed by every string
I'm sewn into the thick carpet
I'm baked onto the plates
I will never ever leave, this house that I hate
This poem is about hating the places where you are supposed to feel safe.
Next page