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Come dance with me
Let’s touch the stars
Baila conmigo
Let’s listen to romantic music
Come walk with me
Anda conmigo
Come explore the world with me
Let’s see all there is to see
Let’s watch the stars dance
Watch the moon watching us
Let’s smell the roses
Vamos oler las rosas
Come laugh with me
Give me one hundred smiles
Come be with me
Ven conmigo
Forever
Dreaming of moonlight nights
Special times with you
Light hypnotic breezes
Trees gently swaying
Wind chimes playing
Scents of lilac in the air
Walks along the beach
Sounds of waves hitting the shore
Gulls flying by
Their sound in the air
Holding hands
Dinner by candlelight
Romantic music playing
Slow dancing
Perfumed air
Soft touches
Gentle smiles
Bright laughter
Heart’s beating
Sweet kisses
Hidden places
Cherished memories
Dreaming of moonlight nights
With you
 May 26 Anais Vionet
David J
My pen offends me
Acted like I didn’t see
But, it wrote the truth
Dug the quill to deep, seen my shadows in the ink.
 May 25 Anais Vionet
Cazzie
He reclines in his brittle chair carved from his own grief,
Not very regal, but heavily resigned to the aches.
The weight of silence cleanly cuts through the air.
His hands, now mapless, no longer seek.
Memories he left behind in clouds, were few and brief.

Books cradle their breath upon the shelf.
Never once a glance as he knows their unchanging tone.
The windows screech with tempered light
As regret drips down the pale pane of ivory bones.
His posture reflects the weight of years notched in his belt.
The leather groans, stretched too thin like his sense of self.

The hour never bows a whim to beg his name.
Dust circles, never sure as to where to fall.
His suit of choice is a reliquary of loss.
Each button, a distant memory hard pressed in shame.
The air is stained
The room too small.
A silent gasp
The last breath falls.
 May 25 Anais Vionet
Maddy
You need to go
Nothing is great with you or about you
Hurting and broken
What makes us special
Incredible
You want to destroy
So 25 th send him packing
A field of poppies helps us remember
The brave and gallant
Two adjectives that will never apply to
Private Bone Spurs
Nothing beautiful about you or your bills
Cruel and selfish that is what you all are
First Official s u m m e r Saturday,
weather personas correctly (!) advertise two hours of
sunny morning before the clouded
vanilla parchy brow of the sky
occludes any May
summertime fantastical notions

Sun low in the eastern sky crests at
acute angles,
and spills rays thru the tree'd
frothy cappuccino branches, which
under the influence of drunken
substantive gusts, shakes the rays
on the bright green lawn stage, casting a huge patchwork of shadows, and it's easy to conceive
many tall giant ballerinas dancing in a chaotic disharmonious modern choreography

Perhaps it's a Parson's choreo,
more likely the akimbo nature
of the motion motif,
a Body Traffic concoction

But the sun is gone by 9:30am,
the green stage is now just a
plain old green screen,
the shadowy ballerinas banished,
and my hand held porcelain mug,
frames the denuded scene,
only the invisible wind remains
to say:

oh it's you human,
back in para-dise,
did you expect perfection
of hot sun & hot coffee
awaiting your return?


East come, Easy West go,
this version of my true unheated coloration disappoints,
but I wait in on/no human,
said the triumvirate,
that rule the sky,


on this island of perpetual sunsets,
we do not guarantee a seating
of matched sets,
but visit with us tomorrow,
with poem praiseworthy,


and then,
again,
who ever knows?
Sat. May 25
2025
Shelter Island
 May 25 Anais Vionet
Maddy
My heart
My soul
My lifetime best friend
Let's me be me
Sensitive and caring
The love of my life and partner knows
Writing Poetry
My other best friend
 May 25 Anais Vionet
rick
“I look at you,” he told me, “and I think to myself; now here’s a guy whose got it all: he’s over fed, has a nice watch on his wrist and his shoes, although not my style, are brand new. The only thing he doesn’t have are troubles and worries.”

“bartender,” I shouted, “I’ll take one more and the tab.”

“hey man what about me,” he asked, “mind topping me off?”

“and another one for the poor sap next to me.”

“you see what I mean,” he continued. “you can afford to buy drinks for yourself and for others. as for myself, they forced me into a war I didn’t support and I also got my *** shot off for a cause unknown. I was stripped of my emotions, gutted from my life, they sodomized my psyche, carved the dream out of my head and I was never given a chance at having children or a future. and all this happened before I ever held a beer or tasted a cigarette or had a woman in my bed.”

I didn’t bother responding
in hopes that he’d get the hint
but as expected, he was as
clueless as my ex-wife
and as he carried on
with relentless persistency
each word dug in like a cat scratch
and all I could do was clench my glass tighter and tighter to contain myself.

“I’ve been spit on, kicked out, beat up and let down,” he further continued. “the streets are hard and unkind and everywhere you go you’re unwanted and everything is locked. why do you think I pour into these bars late at night? to drink? naw man, I just need a place to go, a roof over my head you know?”

that was it.
I had enough.

I finished my drink,
got off the stool
and headed toward the exit.

“hey buddy,” he shouted, “can I get another one for the road?”

“no.”

“just one more?”

“NO!” I screamed.

“c’mon man, you’ve got everything and I’ve got nothing. what makes you better than anyone else?”

“now look here you bumbling idiot…”

“but…but…but…” he interrupted.

“I’ve heard your tales of woe and now you’re going to listen to me,” I said sternly. “I look overfed because of poor diet and lack of exercise caused by working 60-80 hours a week with no time to take care of myself. I have a nice watch and new shoes but it came with a price. I’ve traded in my freedom for comfort, my time for materials and any chance of love for success. you say I have everything and you have nothing? I say you’re wrong. you’ve got something I no longer possess and that my friend is soul. don’t lose that. don’t buy into the mold. don’t conform. don’t become like everyone else. most of the people you see in here have imprisoned themselves into their own personal hell. that’s the way society wants it. but you’re free. truly free. and another thing… don’t worry about sorrow. everyone’s got problems and nobody wants to hear about it. why do you think people are in here? for the enjoyment? no, there here to forget. just. like. you.”

“******* *******! I don’t need a lecture from you or your cheap advice. all I need is a ******* drink!”

…and with that,
I walked out into the
dark and empty streets
where they greeted me
with their silence.
Happened a long time ago, in a bar, somewhere down in New Orleans.
 May 25 Anais Vionet
rick
pick one out of billions
and stick to it
like spider bait
in the spider web

although you never know
when you’re caught
until it’s too late
and you’re in
too deep

the heart fills
with betrayal
and deception
or worse
the heart fills
with truth
when our beliefs
are based on lies

it’s hard to comprehend
and/or overcome

the ego gets scratched
or the connection
gets snipped

and finally,
a plumage of misconceptions
is what we’re deduced to:

that something is lost
that something has failed

but when the perspective
is turned upside down
and the lens adjusts itself

it reveals that something
is gained and/or returned

and this time
with a fresh start,
a new beginning,
a better outlook

maybe a lesson can be learned?
maybe a mistake can be avoided
by it’s reoccurrence?

maybe?

but listen,
I’m no love guru,
couples therapist,
marriage counselor
or divorce attorney

I can only guarantee that
there is another pair of
sweaty meat sacks
encased in decaying flesh
waiting for you
somewhere out there,
aching to ruin your life
all over again.
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