Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Feb 2015 blythe
BertJane Perez
They say the first one to fall in love
Will always be the first one to fall
HARD.
I didn't believe them
Then I saw you
And now I wonder...
When will I ever get back on my feet again?
 Feb 2015 blythe
ryn
Footsteps
 Feb 2015 blythe
ryn
.
•they'd               
come at night•               
these footsteps are               
never light• always                    
heavy and running ar-                      
ound•...they are annoy-                        
ingly creepy..., these aw-                       
ful sounds•every night,                          
after eleven without                        
fail•into rooms,                        

us they would                        
tail• making a                        
din overhead                        
•when all                        
                         should
                        be quiet inste-
                         ad•like barefooted
                          children i would ***-
                          ume...•wandering and
                          exploring into every ro-
                           om•...could they come
                            wilfully•from the cou-
                                ple who live above
                            me•i very much

                             doubt so•bec-
                             ause this much
                             i know...•that
                             the neigh-

bour up-                    
stairs, they're                        
old•frail and meek;                            
never bold•they'd re-                            
tire early•after late, ne-                            
ver a party•now... there                            
the feet go again•drivi-                            
ng me almost insane•                            
on my ceiling now,                            
they're pacing•                        

they know i kn-                        
ow and they are                        
playing•these                        
invisible                        
                        feet•ne-
                        ver would we
                            meet•one thing for
                           sure•this is not a friv-
                            olous tour•determined
                            to tell•that they exist
                              as well•nothing i'm
                               certain but it is clear
                               •i think they really
                              like it here...•

                              •i don't think
                               they're leavi-
                              ng•they're
                 ­              bent on


staying...
.
I live in an apartment on the 2nd storey. My family and I would hear these footsteps every night.

Initially we would dismiss it to be the neighbour living upstairs but that became very improbable simply because the couple who lives above us are far too old to be jumping and skipping in the wee hours...

We have tried ignoring the sounds but they would intensify. We'd hear intentional heavy footsteps, running, jumping between rooms but most of the time they would follow us to whichever room we're in.

Lately these sounds had progressed to rapping on the concrete walls in my bedroom. I could hear them as I lay in bed knocking and tapping on the wall by me.

The thing is... I live in a corner apartment and beyond that wall is the exterior of the building... There is no way anyone could be on the opposite side of that wall...

Creepy much?
.
~~
Southern winds have gone away
The music player has hanged
When playing the last romantic song

The Chill North wind is Sigh of yours
Has grown the pale Afternoon
How stupid the fade trees Standing!

Distant garden flower's Petals
Wither,
Helpless,
Careless

Midnight dew
Create the illusion of Sound
Nearby Lamppost,
Standing in the dim light fog
Alone,
Retreat
As the Calling Owl of the Night

Smokes of Cigarette lost in the Shadow
Putting the day,
Slowly vanish before
As the Mist
 
Along the road that you have left
Looked at me Surprisingly
Opening the door,
Just want to scream for unknown reasons
Once Again
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
As the Calling Owl of the Night
/
dear poet/poetess
if like share your comments/ repost that inspire me..
/
 Feb 2015 blythe
epictails
The moon illuminated her
as she flowed with the rhythm
of the shadows

She cascaded her body
with a passion
she only knew too well

Her desolation slowly adrift
with each flying second
all consumed in a beautiful madness

No one would glimpse of
the illusion she brought to life

No one would hear
of the music she sought

No one would believe
a woman free in her own course

A woman dispossessed
by the eyes of an audience

A woman left to her dreams
as if she was insignificant

But she danced
despite the crowd telling her to stop

But she danced
despite being burned and bruised
for the fantasies she loved
before anything else in the world
Title inspired by Haruki Murakami's book of the same name. Although I haven't read it even once. Hahaha no idea if my poem is even remotely similar to the book all I know is that the namesake is catchy. :))
 Feb 2015 blythe
Mike Hauser
how many of us

slave to be free

only to find

we're slaves to that need
 Feb 2015 blythe
yasmine
i peeled my layers away
gave you my raw wounds

all you did was pour salt on them
P** owerful
O nslaught of
E motions with a (rhyming)
M eter
Next page