Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
a wasp flew a straight line
from its nest to me
cloaked in puny sunshine
it thought itself to be free
unheard was its buzzing
unseen its rainbow wings
untold was what it carried
i only felt it sting
the suspension like a drawn sword
cut through the silence within
the absence of feeling retrieved
was healed by the relief of loss
an epitaph if to be given
would affirm the infinity of the end
a promise given in portions
partitioned to satisfaction
make one see through the gloss
to the plainness within
that grieves in honour and truth
shedding tears of blood
it tastes the purest fruit
in the acceptance of its pain
lies the moral of our story

- Sneha Iyer & Vijayalakshmi Harish
   04.01.2012
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish & Sneha Iyer
Co-written with my friend and sister Sneha Iyer (http://hellopoetry.com/-sneha-iyer/)  :)
What if I could float away,
and never touch the ground again?
What if I could fly away,
and never see your face again?

Would you even be lonely?
Would you even need me,
to be there?
Would you even care?

Would you even feel sorry,
for what you said to me,
the other day?
Before you walked away.

You will never ever,
ever, ever,
ever be sorry.

And I have never ever,
ever ever,
been so lonely.

I will never ever,
ever, ever,
be the same again.

And I never ever,
ever, ever,
want to see your face again.

What if I could hide away,
without any consequence?
What if I ran away,
would you still feel so innocent?
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
 Jan 2013 Aditya Bhaskara
Jenna
Deep beneath dirt is where I would like to be
perhaps then, under rock, no one would find me
and my body would be left to decay not from hurt but debri
and you, my pain giver, I would not see
but I think, all the same, that eventually
I would crave you and want to dig myself free
The apocalypse was coming
I could hear it in the wind
You were my own personal hell
Waiting to rip me apart
I knew from the beginning
Why didn’t I run?

You were all lies and lust
But still I held on tight
Addicted to the feeling of
Your anger on my skin
It was better to feel pain
Than to feel nothing at all

There were moons in your eyes
Your touch got me high
The whiskey on your lips
Tasted like a flash of lightning
And you set me on fire
With every lonely kiss

And in the morning, I knew
I’d be bruised and scarred
Permanent reminders of our
Confused, twisted love
They represented your cruelty
And my ignorance

Then with delusional conviction
I would tell myself that even though
You’d ripped me to pieces and
Thrown me to the ground,
I love you in a twisted way
And you love me the same
 Jan 2013 Aditya Bhaskara
fdg
You said that you've been watching me for years.
You said that I keep you steady here, on the ground.
I'm not a girl for you to pursue, you said,
just a girl to look at when things get crazy.
Just a girl who has got your balloon head
tied to her wrist.
We're barely past strangers
and I don't know how your hands have pried open my skull and bones
so you can inspect.
You never asked permission.

You said your resolution for this year is
to stop thinking about me.
Growing up
Innocence going down
all to show
a **** frown
Act your age they say
what is age
age redefined on a page
on 'age'
twelve years old and suicidal
sixteen years young
Thinking you're ready to be bridal
walking the halls
Hoping not to fall
from your popularity
popularity-thrown
needing clarity
You expect our charity?
Ha, girls like me are a rarity
check yourself
before you wreck yourself
clichéd isn't it
****?
trollop?
Name it
it fits
*****?
I can't take it anymore
You're fourteen
and you've seen
things
Things I can't even dream
all you want to do is scream?
Don't kid
you broadcast your personals
to the halls
from wall to other walls
superficial
artificial
Not even beneficial
get real
learn how to deal
and stop trying to change
the range
of age
-More Rap-ish than anything close to poetry, but I needed a bit of a rant.
Hopefully I'll get back on track of writing decent poetry.
Watery suns flood
spilling over
ponds ripple
caressing shores
sands blow over
footprints walking
on water, birds
hover over
smiling back
at me
Dreams…
They dare;
Instigate…
Enough to investigate,
Where the moon hides,
On the dark nights?
Who rules the tides?
And who sways,
The wind’s might?

Dreams…
They push;
Beyond the holding ledge,
Plunge…
Into the dark,
As dreams possess,
A glow evident;
Iridescent firefly,
Cutting stark,
Across the dark!

Dreams…
Often invincible,
An invisible might,
Ruling the strengths,
Of a doing mind!
They bloom,
A trophy of truth,
Shining over the mantle,
Radium of life!
More and more you build
temples of stone.
Everywhere,
hewing rocks of the earth,
you set about your project:
But,
do you see -
that small bit of rock
would be enough, more
effective for Me to manifest,
all of a fist’s size,
this your hardened heart?
What would God's response be, to the hectic monument building ongoing everywhere in the world today, when cruelty to fellow man is rising every day?

'Houses of the holy' is the name of a Led Zeppelin album containing some of my favourite songs - there's no direct connection though, except that I thought this title is apt for describing my piece!
Next page