Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Feb 2014 Trader Tim
Micheal Wolf
When the light goes out it's all still there, just hidden
as you sit alone in your chair, blending, silent as the night embraces you
You try to focus on shadows and the embers of the day a day often we want to forget as it's conflicts raged
Yet the emotions wash into the night, your night

Sometimes it will be different, it may hold the very essence of a soul that touched upon yours in strangest serendipity
You can imagine what the darkness holds but only days light realises dream from reality, what was but a chance path crossed or a smile seen as bright as the sun
As I slumber I hold thoughts of pleasure and play that day like a film in my minds eye, slowly now for I must see it's details in emerald splendour
The sepia tones of faces and images alight, I yearn for tomorrow goodbye to tonight.
 Feb 2014 Trader Tim
Megan Grace
it's comforting to know that
someday my skin will
forget what it feels
like to touch
yours
i wrote my first poem
when i was somewhere around the age of two or three,
singing out the words,
and having my mother write them down.

something about a rose,
and its devotion to the light.
i have it scribbled down somewhere.

then, the words took form in shaky
childs writing,
small words and sentences describing fantastical worlds
swirling vividly in my mind,
and then in elementary school drawl,
across colored construction paper,
then on my arms and legs in middle school,
in black ink scrawling across
golden skin,
sinking in.

then, books full
of endless pages filled with
flowing and burning inspiration piled on my desk
and by my bed
the most ferocious of inspiration finding me in all my
highschool classes.
a sketchbook,
or at least a pen always held close at hand,
i even had inspiration in the shower,
and sometimes ran out naked
if i forgot a pad and pencil.

my love of words started when my mother
used to read me poetry in the womb,
and play tapes of Native American
flute music as she fell asleep
to the small, but constant feeling of
my unborn lips inside her growing stomach
forming the outline of
words to be written and said.

i started writing,
and it became my addiction;
and i've never felt the urge to stop.
 Feb 2014 Trader Tim
Olivia Kent
Went swimming in the garden, thought I'd like a little fun.
Now that winter rain has just gone,  thought I'd ****** a glimpse of sun.
Had a wonderful allure, looked at water, sparkling rippling beauty.
Really was a tease, for I don't have a pool, my garden just a flooded sewer!
(C) LIVVI X
You were everything beautiful and wonderful.
And I was everything scary and broken.
And yet you taught me,
That I am worth the most passionate of love.
There is a beauty spot somewhere on my body,
And I want you to find it.
Drink me in
As your fingers surf my skin.
Take your time
It's all about the journey,
You are creating
as you trace.
Oh yes, linger there, scrutinise intently
Touch me, slowly, gently,
I am smiling,
Because I know where it is.
Next page