Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Aug 2016
r
There was a girl
I used to swap paperbacks
and spit with, once
I fixed her wiper blades,
I remember the soft dead wings
on the windshield,  pretty
as you please

She was alone in her shoes
listening to something
that kept getting darker
and glowing like morning
on the oil spilled under her truck,
she was drifting through
the rosewater of her soft red hair

She only wanted to be rolling
off a swollen river, sliding
out of a clean slip, turning
over in a deep sleep, trailing
a shimmering thread, hiding
under a pile of wet leaves

Then there she was sailing
in her river of blood,  going
white and smelling like smoke
from a struck match behind
closed blinds on a ceramic floor,
a white blouse red as a sharp knife
collecting the light of mourning.
 May 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
All had been removed
one by one
Take all!
But do not take away this little light
Open the window
Let the wind come

I will not protest any day
will not say against you
Even when I got empty I do not want to
Those yellow crops,
Fertile barren fields
all yours

Do not want to
Never ask you for anything expensive

But in return
I want to see those yellow marigolds,
The silver moonlit of the lonely moon
And a newly bloomed red rose,
The aroma of gardenia in the air
For my awaiting beloved,
So Let the wind come

I'll give you more!
The Hidden gold pitcher of my grandma,
The Saved Silver coin of my ancestor,
Gold, precious locket,
Antics-
The Diamond Crown
– All -

But want to return
My beloved's smile which has taken from
The golden shining day where I had left her
The very Sweet Southern wind where my Spring plays
My lost grasshopper

Lost love Song
My mother's simple smile,
The paper boats of my springtime,
My grandma's fairytale
And a piece of open sky where I take a little breath

Where my kites of dreams fly
Dances with Seven colors of love
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
 May 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
When so much light around
but you say the dark
I could not understand
my top layer

When I was in the womb
Then, and not
But there was light
Then when I saw your universe that you have made
everything was there

My playing companions
The Sun
The Moon
My beloved,
And that delighted
Night's north star was
on her forehead  
Where all of my senses have
grown up

Then at one sudden night of the new moon
I saw a thick overlay on the sky,
between you and me
The North Star has disappeared

I think that you were true
In the dark I find my known world
One by one,
Trying out through the thick layer

It seems to cover the end
As light yellow yolk
See a light-colored tint
which awakens my sixth sense again

A shadowy obsession
Which has yet to create an illusion
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
illusion
~~
 Apr 2015
Seán Mac Falls
( Sonnet )*

I once caught you naked by the sea,
No one noticed, such noble shyness,
Invited to worlds, aloof as sun breeze,
Of purple sands, heathered highness.

In novae of your eyes was shipwreck,
Forlorn beacon chiding the weary lost
Of new worlds lumbered on the decks,
Seabirds caroled up wing, heavens' loft.

Skin, fleshy of netted eel, salt and foam,
Was hide for a brigand, lubbers sessions,
Sheered by sheen, blinding sky of gloam,
Stars runged on their draped processions.

My seal, now fate, cloak within jubilance;
Coral sea wave, slips under moon dance.
In Celtic myth, if a man steals a female selkie's skin she is in his power and is forced to become his wife.  Female selkies are said to make excellent wives, but because their true home is the sea, they will often be seen gazing longingly at the ocean.  Sometimes, a selkie maiden is taken as a wife by a human man and she has several children by him.

Selkies (also spelled silkies, selchies; Irish/Scottish Gaelic: selchidh, Scots: selkie fowk) are mythological creatures found in Scottish, Irish, and Faroese folklore.  Selkies are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land. The legend is apparently most common in Orkney and Shetland and is very similar to those of swan maidens.
 Apr 2015
Chris
-

Amidst the changing scenery
as faces come and go
Names reflect the differences
of those we’ve come to know

Along a winding avenue
where store fronts sell their wares
Traffic lights of red and green
change too among the stares

Where sunshine breaks the foggy mist
and clear as any bell
A ringing forms about my ears,
a song I know so well

I look around and hope I see
this beauty I desire
A butterfly upon the wind
keeps soaring ever higher

And as I reach to grab a hold
with wings of pastel gleam
She flutters just beyond my reach
as if some kind of dream

I hang my head in misery,
another wasted day
The love that I was longing for
has somehow got away

Clouds now build in grey design
my smile has run aground
Happiness is not on sale
not anywhere I’ve found  

Now trudging narrow sidewalks
quite keen to every crack
My focus finds a forward view
I just can not look back

When there upon the door step
these tear filled eyes they spy
Waiting near the welcome mat
my perfect butterfly

And suddenly the bluest skies
appear high up above
This day might not be bad at all
*I’ve found my one true love
 Apr 2015
Dead Lock
If only we were dolls
With faces of porcelain
Then we could pick to pieces our paint on smiles
And see what lurks within
 Apr 2015
Rafhael Vieira
Once I was lost
Wandering in my own limbo
Craving for my own life

My dreams would haunt me
My nightmares would disturb me
I felt trapped by the darkness
With no end to the suffering

I was useless,hopeless
Afraid to sleep through another helpless night
Thinking that death
Might have been the only way out

However,even in dark times
Help comes in different ways
The moon turns into the sun
The night turns into day
The darkness turns into light
And once again,
You feel the cold breeze in your face
The warmth of the sun in your heart
The ones you love around you.
 Apr 2015
Paul M Chafer
Even at my age,
I see mountainous lands in the sky,
Languishing among towering clouds,
A lofty empire, lost kingdoms,
Perhaps a strange magical realm,
Thriving with dwarves and giants,
Maidens in towers awaiting rescue,
Where lone horse warriors wander,
Maybe observing us, far below.

Must be a poetic creative thing,
Or simply the child deep within,
Viewing through the eyes of the man,
Dreaming ancient days of long ago,
When the child yearned to be grown,
To know all there is to know,
Never appreciating escapism,
The chance to drift within time,
Ponder upon distant, aerial, worlds.

Or maybe I’m just a dreamer,
That and nothing more, hmm,
Telling myself, I am a poet,
A procrastinating creative spirit,
In love with the trappings of art,
The child asleep within wisdom,
Languishing among towering clouds,
I see mountainous lands in the sky,
Even at my age.

©Paul M Chafer 2015
Inspired by the poem ‘A Procession Of Days’ and dedicated to fellow visionary, friend and poet, W L Winter.
 Apr 2015
Seán Mac Falls
Lovers entered a forbidden forest bower,
And as they stalked that range, with eyes glazed,
She offered up her hind. Now, with doe eyes,
Deep as his, deep in arousal's sleep, heels fell,
As he knocked and pulled her dark honey hair
And whispered, surrender, into wanting ears,
Softly he drove his hunting command, homing
To his huntress.

Her body braced, yet bade, with heat and vibrance.
Ruthlessly, he ****** his arrow deeper and then
Once more and then again.  She bucked fiercely
And defiant, goading his prodding lance ever more
Ever longer, and parting the pink lines of her white
Rose, he was, and once again, Prince to the dark
Dominion of her quarters.

In the middle of this carnal match they paused.
And looking into the forest beyond they saw
A yearling fawn, a feral Goddess, grazing still,
Bathing in a vale, virginal, wholly unmoved
By their act of venery, lustfully playing, in the innocent
Leaves.  It was as if they were among her kin, a gentle
Doe and a noble stag. From that moment on
The human hunters did not speak.

Falling, again, rolling eyes were deep in arousal's sleep.
Her back was a crescent moon pocked and wet with dew.
He could feel her heart beating in time with his piercing
Prong, her arching back glistened in the suns spittle
As it broke through the dark and vernal ceiling wood.

In the final shot her quivering buck lowered and broke
And a sound not heard, made a scene, a sweet murmuring
Shuddered and sank onto the floor of the forest leaves
With her tale, taken and told, her breathless breath,
Her nostrils cold and her heated and lanced openings
Dripping, draining; here was a New World’s beginning.

Sated, solemn and softly quaking, his woman sweetly laid,
And now, doomed with her doe eyes, two lovers, fated, made;
She glowed, divine, like the rolling brook that mellowed
Slow, in the vine-dark and golden forest stable,
In Artemis’s wood.
 Apr 2015
Madeysin
I sat infront of the mirror with God last night,
I traded my pretty blue eyes for slimmer thighs,
My gorgeous thick curly hair for smaller hips,
Those cute freckles on my nose for bigger lips,
My smile for a smaller stomach, my laugh for bigger *****. He cried, I didn't know who I was.
 Apr 2015
Abigail Shaw
Sip my wit like lemonade,
Kiss between my shoulder blades,
Concentrate,
Can you even remember my name?
Skitter, sicker, savage, sad,
Pop a pill don’t feel so bad,
You say I can do anything,
Yet you’ve never seen my eyes glow like coal,
I am Skaði and I will always be cold,
And I have broken more boys easy as shattering glass,
Cut palms and no class,
I am contagious,
My tongue is forked and poisonous,
So roll up roll up,
Watch me make everything worse,
Watch me spit and snap and talk in curse,
But don’t get too close because without any doubt,
Being near me will rot you,
Both inside and out.
Next page