Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Sep 2015
Prabhu Iyer
An evening comes wading through the clouds
crimson the feet wet in mists unfurling

silences whisper hushed in shadows and leafless
stalks, tangled hair, moist in the mellow winds
foreboding the hour when minnows sleep

it will rain tonight
                   soft on the lotus ponds
landing by the dancing canvas leaves
                   painted in hues of cream-white
                            birthing buds of pink
                                     smiling shy

robed in the regal hues of the moon
blushing behind the mourning palms
painted against the skies
solemn

whirling, whirling like a dervish

it is the hymn of the skies
it is the early moon
it is the late koel
the pond overflowing
in longing


I will swoon rhapsodizing

Saying your name in syllables
whirling, I rise levitating
You are there in the distance
You are here by my side
In Loving Memory
Joseph Wulf
R.I.P.
  8-31-2015  
☆●♡●☆

Tonight my friend could not
breathe. Lungs ravaged from
long ago. Served our country as a
young man. Shoulders, hip n' leg
bones broke by the jungles below.

A Harley Man through
and through.
JFD's became his Corps.
Never wavered in his allegiance
to his country or his force.

One of the smartest men
I have ever known.
Could recite passages from
long ago. Abreast of topics
from far and wide
a history buff so knowlegable.

A brother to many, a father to one.
Devoted to all he loved.
A truer friend could not be had
So very popular he was!!

Joe was my protector,
as I was a wild young thing.
Was my confidant and
chaperone starting at just 17.

Accompanied first date with
my husband 30 years ago.
Gave his blessings that first night~
To my children he was Uncle Joe.

The older brother I never had.
Blessed to love him 40 years.
My whole being trembles at the
thought of losing him.
I weave Love between these tears.

☆●♡●♡●☆
~Christi Michaels~April 2015~
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

☆●♡●☆  Ode to Joe  ☆●♡●☆
This poem was written upon Joe
entering Hospice in April 2015.
His sisters provided
Constant Vigil and Loving Care.
Joe passed on 8-15-2015
This was read at Joes Military Burial
Fort Snelling National Cemetery
Fort Snelling, Minnesota
8-31-2015
Poem for My Joe
 Sep 2015
brandon nagley
i.

In sheol, I lifted mine view atop me; wherein the cave was a dreary scene, fixture's and antique beam's screamed of the hopelessness in this sump.

ii.

A preternatural shimmer, bursted this chthonic picture; the demon's betwixt me and her hunched. Her brigandine of Filipino shine, yoked into mine synapse.

iii.

Mine carrion shook, into the nook's, she slipped me through sheol's crack's. The earth above, I was taken up to, seeing all, I felt a calm, from this seraphim of tribal awe.

iv.

She saidst " Brandon ive come, to giveth thee mine protection " I felt a rush of her touch; direct ressurection. I healed instantaneously, as mine soul finally found it's other half.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication/Filipino rose
 Sep 2015
Emma Pickwick
I never really remember when certain things happen.
They sort of just seem to be as if they were always there, and fade into the background of my life, but this was different. This time I remembered everything.

I remember the way I kept staring at him while he kissed another girl,
The light from the fire beaming on his face and burning me up inside.
But he was chasing another dream in a green knitted sweater,
So I kissed his cheek goodbye at 2:38 am and drove home while the lack of satisfaction sat in the pit of my stomach.

The feeling didn't last though.
He asked me to dinner the next night after a few bad jokes and exchanges of numbers; I've never seen someone fall so fast from across the table for someone they barely knew, but it happened right in front of me.
Afterwards, I laid in his bed and kissed his mouth with a tenderness that had been unknown to me, leaving most of my sadness in my purse and a bit of my soul on the pillowcases, singing to him.  

I kept thinking and dreaming,
But ****, I just fell right in.
And everyone could tell.
I was losing my mind in a storm of emotions,
They'd say, "who'd you lose it to?"
And I'd be anxious and unwilling to admit to anything deeper than friends.

But I ******* felt it. I couldn't deny that it was a knife stabbing through my porcelain flesh, ripping me open again,
Yeah, I ******* felt it.

And my favorite thing to remember: so much so that it nearly consumes my head these days.

Sunday night role playing that started off as a joke, like role playing often does, but quickly escalated.
I laughed while I pressed my tongue to the inside of his cheek, and smiled when I licked his face; But for some reason, he looked at me like a person can only ever dream to be looked at. It's hard to put into words, but he looked at me the way people look at the ocean waves as they roll in to shore.
And that's when I knew.
And I couldn't forget about it.
 Sep 2015
Emma Pickwick
We were beautiful children
And we grew up so brave,
We were touched by death and heartbreaks but we stayed just the same.

We listen to jazz all night and drink red wine,
Find ourselves adventure to pass the time,
We don't talk much about the pain we've felt inside,
No more bumps in the road,
Just enjoying the ride.

Our love is too strong to carry weight of what's gone,
We find peace in the sun,
And the belief of being young.

Love of mine in the world,
We are one in the same,
You can laugh while you're crying and be childish when you lose games,
We are fine, we are okay,
We are in love,
And our children someday will be just like us.
 Aug 2015
K Balachandran
Water drop,let go everything,
Just meditate on the touch down,
an eternity in between passes in a flash,
the immeasurable complexity  of time!
 Aug 2015
Sjr1000
There's a little boy
crying out into the night,
His mother's arms
hold him tight,
He puts his head
on her shoulder,
Nightmare dreams,
They disappear,
With a shudder he begins to feel,
a little sanctuary
so near.

There's a homeless man
sleeping outside tonight
behind the mall,
His beard is long,
His hair is *****,
He changed his clothes
in a thrift store
late last week,
the voices scream his name,
All he's looking for is
a little sanctuary.

There's a politician on
the stand
had *** with another man,
Tried methamphetamine
religion too,
Even hypocrites
are looking for
a little bit of sanctuary.

There's a woman on the road
tonight,
Two kids sleeping tight,
Johnny Walker's asleep
in front of the tv,
There's an internet
between her and her lover,
She turns up the music,
Patsy Cline's singing
Stand By Your Man,
All she's looking for, though, is a
little sanctuary.

The money's gone
the house is going,
The ***** is flowing,
The tears are rolling,
He steps outside
on the deck,
looks up at the stars,
Smokes a cigarette,
Looking for a little sanctuary.

Lover's up in a cabin loft,
twist and shout,
Grasping at straws,
Grasping each other,
Holding on tight,
For a moment of bliss,
Come on in,
Give'em a little sanctuary.

Insomniac mind,
Racing thoughts,
Won't shut off,
The days are long,
The nights are longer,
Every fear and dread,
Keeps raising their ugly head,
Quiet her thoughts,
She would if she could,
But all she can do is wait,
For a little sanctuary.

Soul survivor knocking on
the gate,
Waiting for the light,
Waiting for a world just right -
Putting away all sin and vice,
Hoping for a little sanctuary.

Garden Buddha sits on the path,
hands unfolded,
Quarter smile on his lips,
Serenity's smile,
Mastered the art of waiting
and just being,
A little sanctuary.

These poems I write tonight,
Words all tumbling
through my hand,
I don't know what I write them for,
I don't know where they go,
Where they land,
Only trying to see through
sanctuary's door,
maybe there's a little more,
A little bit left for me and you.

It can be so hard to find,
Maybe it's just a state of mind,
Sometimes so close
Sometimes so far,
We long for the day
to have the night,
We long for the night
to have the day,
But either way,
We're all just looking for
a little sanctuary.
 Aug 2015
River
Bound by cords by my own hands
Head filled with books and my own fantasy land
Reticent and contracted
Every move beforehand practiced
I can't relax into the uncertainty
It's pain, it's hell
Every entering moment I cannot foretell
How do I expose the beautiful parts without exposing the scars and bruises?
No one likes those, everyone now just wants illusions.

The fact is
That I feel and miss and hurt
Like everyone

Tall grass and soil beneath me
I'm sinking
Into a fantasy
And it feels so good and it feels so wrong
Because it takes me away from reality
And I know
I got to face reality,
With both it's joys and woes
But just once more I will serenade the song of nonconformity.

Systems crumbling beneath our feet
As we speak
But my outlook is rather serene
But yours is bleak
And you ask: "What do you mean"
The world is ending
But look, you're supporting the systems
So don't act like you're against them when you are one of them
Instead of playing the blame game and pinning the problems on a group of people,
Look at yourself in the mirror
If we get rid of "those people" nothing is going to change
We need to look at ourselves first
We must change ourselves first.
Ramblings
 Aug 2015
Irving MacPherson
When I was young
a gypsy woman said to me,
You'll have a life of chaos and confusion
With no end in sight, no solution.
She waved her arms in the air
pronouncing due time must pass
before I'd stumble upon peace, and
more pleasure. And love, all in good measure.

As I think about what she said
I relax on the beach listening
to the waves lapping at the shore.
Watching the children carry their plastic pails
full of jellyfish to a sandy death
before going back for more.

The haze in the sky lets through the suns rays
and I burn slightly contemplating these better days.
I don't look back but when I do, it's not for long.
I turn my thoughts to what went wrong,
then I cast the memory aside
in order to allow my spirit to glide.

Mistakes are still made,
not every card is well played.
I get nowhere if I deny,
and cheat myself with some spun lie.
Change is going to come, it comes for everyone.
I make the best out of what I've got,
sometimes it seems that it's so little
but the opposite is true, it's really a lot.
 Aug 2015
Francie Lynch
Happy Face Variety
Has new owners,
From Punjab.

They are way friendly.

I was renting,
Far From the Madding Crowd,
Ben said:
Many people were renting movies tonight.

Yeah, the dog day's of summer.

Explanations and examples ensued.
The change in season.
Replace old anxieties with new.
The surety of autumn expectations.
The heat swirling in the ceiling fans.
The setting sun on Lake Huron.
All the dog days.

And Ashna said:
Like the dog curling up to sleep.*

They are way welcome.
Next page