Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jun 2015
Richard Riddle
I'm sure that the majority of writers like to create and compose in relative solitude, perhaps with soft music, or birds tweeting(unless its a crow) in the background. I have a cat clinging to my socks!

Richard
 Jun 2015
Traveler
Love as we know it can never die
As long as we possess the ability to recall
We can re-experience every pleasurable moment
If we are willing to remove our angry walls

Will you allow yourself the chance
To remember how you felt
As you embraced a long lost lover
When nothing mattered and no one else

All the grief melts away
For those sacred seeds were sown
And all the moments of good love
Are as good as carved in stone
We store memories under many different categories, smell, sight, hearing, taste, touch and so on, the temporal lines get blurred.
That's why you have dreams of ex-lovers you now hate and in the dream you're still in love. Just something to think about.
g
n               p
i                              o
v                             ­             e
i                                                 ­      m
      l                                                                ­        s      
and writing.
 Jun 2015
Bruce Ruston
It’s the pills and the bottle
that kills you
without death
sometimes your mind needs them
till you heal and you realise
that you have killed apart of yourself
sometimes it dies forever
and you never know who you are
even cheerful people **** parts
of themselves to survive
It’s the pills and the bottle
that kills you
without death
two pills twice a day
a mind ******
and a bottle taken
without control

sometimes doctors know best
sometimes a part death
is better than any upgrade
Maybe some people have to revisit
tiny deaths till the living parts
make more sense

Sometimes
A poem is the first hand extended
when the self is confused
and help
well it’s just a voice away
 Jun 2015
poetessa diabolica
whispers flowing gently
  'tween the softness of fallen rain
celebrating each bittersweet moment,
breathing in the exhales of fiery fate
mulling over a cuppa fresh brewed coffee
         in spaces of last night's frenzy,
a dreamt recollection of poetry &
   appreciation of a brand new dawning
sense of anticipation in realizations'
  mysteries of experience are sublimely reverent,
   as the knowledge that pauses serves a purpose
      in the seemingly simple complexities
           of honoring loving indulgences
 Jun 2015
chimaera
Oui, je reviens.

Mais je ne rentre pas.

Dégagement.

Voilà.
7.5.2015
Free and unsatisfying translation...:

Flattened life

Yes, I come back.
But I don't return.
Disengagement.
That's all there is.
 Jun 2015
AK Bright
Destiny will not be found
in the realm of time
Limited to our own imaginations

We are all but strangers in this land
It is those who find a belonging to this world
 who are truly lost

Echoes we chase of discontentment
Searching for pieces we think we lost
or never had

Hearing the voices inside and out
Declaring "You Don't Belong"

Wanderers, explorers, seekers at best
Life is a Sojourn
    not a place to nest
I love you
not because
you're good looking

I love you
not because
you're caring

I love you
not because
you dote on me

I love you
not because
your smiles are sweet

I love you
not in lust
of your crevice
or orifice
or skin

I love you
because
without you
I feel

incomplete within.
 Jun 2015
Sirenes
I never wanted to be a mother
Not because I dislike kids
Just wasn't something I ever considered
It was never a priority
Not something I considered in my calculations

Over a year ago
I was asked to be a godmother
Hell why not
They call me Aunt Bootcamp
Self-explanatory
Although kisses and hugs
Are always available

And sure they're cute
But I'm literally
The laziest person I know
Unless I'm working
...Or looking after kids
Appratently

So there he is
"20 months old"
-What is up with the whole month- thing anyway?-
Squeezing the content
Of his juicebox in himself
Laughing like it's greatest thing ever

So his mum put him in the shower
I'm looking for towels
Socks, shirts and extra pants
Cleaning up juice
Off the floor
And the table
Consequence of a glass knocked over

He casually pees on my carpet
And somehow it only made me laugh
Preconditioned to get up
And catch him as he falls
Wondering how I got be so fast
Not even remotely annoyed
As he smiles and looks me in the eye
And does exactly what I said not to do
Huh?
Next page