Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Feb 2016
Natalie
do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.
 Feb 2016
Joel M Frye
She lives to love a man who once could sing
his way into the hearts of many crowds;
once strong enough to pick up anything
with either back or mind.  Her man had wowed
the critics with his skill with a guitar,
with songs that brought salt water to the eyes
and lyric laughter.  Could have been a star,
connections came and left, not realized.
The cracking voice now breaking hearts instead,
the left hand hanging, useless, by his side.
His back is bent, his heart is weak, his head
is filled with possibilities untried.
What's left of him can barely take her hand...
and yet...
                 and yet, she lives to love her man.
An unearned, divine gift.  Happy Valentine's Day, Mrs. Bear.
 Feb 2016
Pax

I am a terrible liar,
no matter how thick
my masks are...

In this land
I feel out of place.

It's hard when
you're often misunderstood.
I just let it be
succumbing to my faults,
to my insecurities,
to my doubts & fears...

I breathe-in the toxic air
and breathe-it-out...
No matter how much
you cleanse the air
that comes,
when you're
stained
it leaves a scar
that's hard to heal.
Then everything comes
to a choice,
**** or be ******.

I have been good
so far...
Letting the river
flows,
never got to swim back
or even fight
the rushing currents.
Pretending to swim is
easy.

In the end,
life is  been
good,
despite happiness
is just a mask.


In this land#3

perhaps this is the last part of the stream of thoughts.
thanks for reading me.
 Feb 2016
mark john junor
moody girl
resting her head on me
while i purge my thoughts to the page
spilling like a dark red wine
its all sticky but the words lay down
in complacent indifference
i **** them with a wooden stick
wishing they would run and fly
wishing they would speak with their own voice
but they only give a sluggish lip service to the effort
she is breathing a sleepy word of her own from my lap
lover
i type with one hand while the other is wrapped up in her dreadlocks
this is my gem moment of the day
we are alone
and all the day is behind us
twilight gathers us in its gentle arms
and i can just live in the moment
i can explore her
always some new way to see this complex girl
always some new way to be with her beautiful loves
she makes my heart seaworthy
the depth her articulate eyes say things to me
that i would never had dreamt
the storybook of her open face speaks to me
romances me with her fairytale heart
i am her prince
she is my bride
 Feb 2016
Jamie Lee
We often wonder and question,
the meaning of life.
Focusing our attention,
on a three letter word.

The flaw in our nature;
endlessly analyzing.
With a need to understand,
and be reassured.

A vast ocean of opinions,
each an interpretation.
Never truly certain,
of what remains unknown.

Blinded with ungratefulness,
our gifts' wasted; unnoticed.
Failing to recognize,
the kindness shown.

The sun on this warm day,
shed's light to a new dawn.
Embracing this found focus,
not on why, but W.H.Y.

Wisdom, Humor, Youth.
To live each day wisely,
as eagerly as a child,
laughing until you cry.
Copyright ©2016 Jamie Johnson
 Feb 2016
Walter W Hoelbling
love  
dove
bird
hurt pain rain
washing laundry dryer  shrunk
too hot   summer  beach  tanned skins
bikini girls   lifeguards  bodybuilders  
Schwarzenegger
robocop criminals politicians votes
lobbyists corporations   special interests
stock exchange oil price pipelines
pollution profits   leaded water   oily shores
banking wall street   99percent
wealth CEOs distribution education defloration
exploitation union struggle macjobs
Walmart amazon   tax evasion    offshore banking
islands caimans reptiles alligators walruses
snapping turtles  manatees  albatrosses
birds
dove
love
just for fun, sort of ...
 Feb 2016
Melissa S
If I am feeling the need to purge
I head on out to nature's church
Where I can feel peace
Where I can have quiet
and practice my amen in nature's diet.

Do not know which I like more
Listen to an owl call for his mate with a hoot
or when the tree frogs start singing and follow suit
Have a picnic under my favorite birch
oh yeah nature is my church

Do not know which I like more
My favorite coffee while watching the sunrise
or watching all the colors of a sunset in the skies
Seeking out treasures and trails to search
oh yeah nature is my church

So let us show a little appreciation
and give a thanks to the man upstairs
When it comes to his creations
We should bow our head in thankful prayer

Who says I am lost if I wander
but I can get lost in God's wonder
It isn't hard just look around and search
Nature should be all our church
I got the idea of this poem after listening to the beautiful song by Maren Morris ~ My Church.  If you haven't heard that song give it a listen  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rd-V0LuQ0v4
Next page