Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
  The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
  None so devotional as that of “Mother,”
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you—
  You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you,
  In setting my Virginia’s spirit free.
My mother—my own mother, who died early,
  Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
  And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
  Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.
Day
I was walking through blades of grass
who giggled as wind brushed them through
the sun was beaming
as though I had praised it
and the flowers were smiling too
Bees buzzed by busily
as if they knew something I don’t
and dragonflies flew nonchalantly
as sparrows showed off their white throats
The water in the lake
lapped at the shores eagerly
and the weeping willows
waved slowly to me
Owls stare from their perch
Crooning mournfully
Night falls, and the light
cries a final farewell
“Tomorrow” I pray,
will come another day
It's funny, because I used the word "pray" for the sake of the rhyme. I'm not actually Christian. But hey, it sounds pretty!
Hello.
I am smiling.
I am smiling because I am writing.

Hello.
I am frowning.
I am frowning because my wifi won't connect.

Hello.
I am laughing.
I am laughing because of a bad joke my sister made.

Hello.
I am crying.
I am crying because I was betrayed by someone I thought was my friend.

Hello.
I am shouting.
I am shouting because someone insulted me, and I will not stand for it.

Hello.
I am wondering.
I am wondering who I am, and if maybe my poems are a part of that.

Hello.
What is your name?
I don't know mine, yet.
I can see snippets of it. Letters. Pieces.

Hello.
I am somebody who smiles, frowns, laughs, cries, shouts, and wonders.
That's all I know right now.
But you know what they say-
You learn something new every day.
I'm really trying to figure out who I am right now. I'm trying to figure out things like my sexuality and style, but also who I want to be and what I want to do, and how I can get there. I don't know a lot, but I know for sure that I am a poet and that I love writing, and I'm sure that I'll know more than that in the future. But for now, I'm just a writer, and I'm okay with that.
I am the crushed cereal at the bottom of the box
Your last clean pair of underwear you only wear on laundry day
The popped balloon left in the balloon seller’s hand at
The end of the day when he goes back to his
One bedroom apartment and warms up soup in the microwave

I am the last thing you want to watch on TV
An infomercial or a re-run re-run of a show you don’t like
I am the bit of soda left in the can
That’s mixed with saliva and has no taste
And most times you don’t drink it, so
You just toss away the can with me still inside

I am the wallpaper in a dentist office
That no one buys except to paper dentist offices
I am the crumbs you sweep under the rug
I am that thing on craigslist that would be
Perfect except for that one little thing wrong

I am all those lonely things.
Next page