Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Mar 2017
martin
***
Nothing you write
is yours alone
every word
borrowed
on loan
only from you
comes some wit
to decide the order
in which they are writ
 Mar 2017
Gidgette
I'm going to dare the fates and speak openly

Julius Caesar, was a pompas *****, who consumed and never gave
A pudgy little waif of an excuse for a man
Cleopatra, wasn't a visual beauty,
She had wit, and the gift of gab
I was her hand maiden
I would know
Technology?!
We are so primitive in this age, Ha!
Nero,
History painted a vague, and awful picture of a great man of men
Indeed,
My Nero, did dance at the fall of Rome
Because we all would dance, at the loss of ignorance
He was beautiful, I loved him
And of DaVinci?
His mind was offset
He was GREAT
His was a traveling soul and mind
Leonardo, looked God himself in the face
And grinned
He was GREAT, as was his son
His son, painted a book
It resides in the Vatican Library
Check if you will
With your "Google"
Your generations wonder of mysteries,
You haven't a clue
Time isn't linear
It Is always
And I grow tired
Hoover, a Hunter
He knew of us
And we hid
Shielding ourselves in shadows
And lies
We are here
We watch
Wait....
 Feb 2017
Rainey Birthwright
.
We were stormy, at arms,
So brave on the heather bluffs,
Starry eyes would nae surrender,
Nor great battered seas, to us above.

You took me with a shy shrug,
My flesh broke about violet skies,
I rushed to greet your body greedy
On dizzy bluffs, so dangerously high.

I could not move away from you,
So tangled were we becoming near,
Your touch was rapier, on fire, lethal,
My heart was stricken, punctured there.

In one just moment we destroyed
Each other, blood laden within bliss,
Both of us conquered on the sea bluffs,
Rivals implode to smithereens, by first kiss.
 Jan 2017
Ma Cherie
Up ahead past frozen trees,
lies a timeless crystal valley,
while some still stand unfrozen here,
in rows of wooden alley,

I step in past behemoth guards,
who protect a prism palace,
as cleanest waters pure and clear,
rush down on earthly ballast,
a chance to sip of sacred wine,
inside a holy chalice,

Roots run deepest in this spot,
away from light,
below,
while tallest branches touch the sky,
all blanketed insnow,
as orchestra's of crystal chimes,
prepare another show,

When one should gaze upon it,
this ancient wooded sight,
as steam is rising steadily,
as daylight moves to night,
night draws down it's curtain,
as stars now shine a lovely light,

Your breath is taken with it,
& frozen there in time,
as daylight changes scenery,
angelic voices chime,
when telling of the beauty here,
I'd say this place sublime,

A wooded lucent heaven,
it's hard to put in words,
I close my eyes to dream again,
and listen to the birds,
and for every other lovely sound,
I hope my ears have heard,

My breath & I,
just cannot linger,
in beauty's frozen place,
where every branch is laden white,
on gaurded trees of ancient grace,
where all adorned with icicles,
& brilliant snowy patterned lace,

The atmosphere is full of vapor,
as the dew point has been hit,
condensing incandescent tears,
low flying clouds now sit,
so near the ground in steamy fog,
translucently still lit,

It captivates my every sense,
as frozen gates unlock,
I do my best to look away,
though all I do is gawk,
I peer inside to check the time,
...if any on the clock,

Sadly here,
not time for me,
inside this sleepy glen,
where birds & death,
they wait assured,
a thorny crown,
in safest den,
boreal a chickadee,
the livest a tiny wren,

Perhaps to come another day,
I stay inside past frozen gates,
I cannot know the how and when,
my thread of life is cut by Fates,
the three Keres I see in there,
it seems I can't manipulate,

I do not know the way to here,
amidst the wafting fog,
when all again will seem anew,
in Spring & newborn frog,
where lovely woodland creatures,
come out from mossy log,

I so wish I could stay here too,
where now the only sound,
is one of snowflakes softly falling,
upon this hallowed ground,
I do not know where I am going,
or where I'm finally bound,

Though I will try again in Spring,
to see my way back here,
I came here with a fear of death,
but left inside that fear,
as little Winter fairies whisper,
of hope into my ear,

I am grateful for today,
with new hope for tomorrow,
I'm walking out of here tonight,
relieved of all my earthly sorrow,
I walk ahead,
now unconcerned,
if no more time...
at all to borrow.

Cherie Nolan © 2016
Hey everyone I've been away but I'm doing alright...sorry not here so much,
I'll check in when I can today, and catch up as much as possible. I think being grateful is so important...to live from a place of gratitude. This is full of metaphors for life and death, acceptance of our time, breathing in the beauty it was a mystical spiritual walk as I pondered the fear of death. I carefully thought with this...it felt inspired idk... while at the most beautiful, breathtaking place here I know to go in Winter.... sigh...
Influences of Greek mythology (the fates) and some of my other beliefs. Many thanks poets for always kind words and love - hugs VERMONT ❤ ❤❤
 Dec 2016
Melissa S
Again the dream creeps in....
It's a gray dreary day
The sky is crying just like every
one else there that I dare look at
Leaves are falling down dancing
In the wind until they land on the ground
I see a hole and dirt beside it
I hear someone talking a male's voice
but I cannot understand what
or who they are talking about
Then a chill sweeps over me
As a sudden realization about where
I am hits me as my sisters squeeze my hands
One on each side of me and I scream
out and say NOOOOO
Momma doesn't want to be all alone
A silent prayer is lost in the wind
As they lower the casket
I start to feel weighted down
and start slipping from
The grip of my sisters and my family
People are talking to me but it feels as
if I'm in a tunnel and they are a long way off
Then I feel dirt being thrown on me
I think this isn't right why am I in the hole
Momma cannot breathe
Now I cannot breathe
and then... I wake up
 Dec 2016
Corset
She follows, she follows...
A Poem by Corset


It's Christmas again
 we try to try
and we confess to
a kind of madness

we gather
the smell of your skin
dangling like lost stars
while millions mass
entitled to our sick days

Tree top swing
eyelids sweating in white pulse
'cause you do not understand
intimacy until you have
shaved your wife in the
wilderness of cowboys
and the dust settled dawn

hoof and mane remain the same
conversation

I try to remember the sound
of your laughter,
I can only recall mine,
it is meant to be
only a few moments ago
Christmas Eve like a thirsty
rabbit went into his hole
drank him deep asleep
into the floor

our working class demons
can't look at each other
without a pick axe and
all I can think is

"I hope you got tailgate"
and she follows, and she follows
the one,
that my brothers and sisters
call "the missing" dream.
 Dec 2016
phil roberts
I have moved to a different drum
With odd and peculiar rhythms
Dancing awkwardly through life
On my two flat clumsy feet
It is not the way I chose
To step on innocent toes
But the wildness of my dance
Has had no easy flow
The blame lies entirely with me
It's a genetic thing, you see
I am no more than this
The son of the gypsy's kiss

                                By Phil Roberts
 Dec 2016
Sjr1000
Waking up one morning
It's a normal kind of day
Only there are bulldozers
on their way

It goes this way:
At the end of your driveway
down to the right
in front of the picket fence
The land is graded
a horizontal drill brought in
made to feel at home

You see,
We you me may own the land
But the mineral rights are theirs

A concrete utility structure goes up,
in what do you think?
About three weeks?

Chemicals are shot
horizontally under the land
under the house
to release the gas from the sand
While the ground water
is fearfully shivering
it knows
its days are numbered.

The concrete utility chimney
pouring out chemical smoke
24 hours a day.

The  County says,
"What do you expect us to do?"
The State says
"***** You "

Cancer clusters
Sick kids
Chemical water tasting very weird

Guess what?

Whether it be our 89,000
189,000 or 889,000 dollar
American dream home
The dog is going to be
taking a **** in the backyard
claiming ownership.

Welcome to LA too
No matter where you are
Every other day
the earth is shaking
buildings tumbling
Dance Dance Dance

Dots on a map
thousands of them
all around us
coming our way.

Better take a drive
next time on talk radio
"Drill baby Drill"

All hail Exxon
Cars love Shell Gasoline

The old USA
******* gas
And it sure ain't nitrous
cars idoling on a stop and go freeway
finding our true purpose
a grounded oil derreck
for the Koch Brothers
He who pays the piper calls the tune
Oh yeah
Drill baby Drill
I'm heading up Highway 101

The Earth hot and *****
for a new life form

Welcome to the new world order
Welcome to the new USA
Purloined, poisoned, polluted
The United Petro States of America.

Hey Hey Hey
"New world order" of course, Bruce Springsteen, the Boss.
If you live near one of these friggin fracking structures, love to hear about it.

Sometimes you gotta write a protest song.
 Oct 2016
Finley in Despair
I hate my skinny frame
my bony hips and spaghetti appendages
I envy the built lads with guns for arms
those guys that can wow a girl without any charm
I heard that girls like being carried to bed
they'd more likely be able to carry me instead
and maybe that's the reason I never get any head
but jokes aside, this is a problem
men, women, boys and girls
we're all fixated on an image the media has us fed
some of us feel worthless because of our bodies
forgetting our positive oddities
forgetting the perks we have like a beautiful smile
or eyes that given the attention
hold something you haven't seen in a while
a lot of us haven't felt love from ourselves in years
it could bring me to tears
all because when we look ourselves in the mirror
we see imperfection
but let me ask you this; what is perfection?

Is it a man so jacked up on steroids he can't get an *******?
is it a girl so skinny they call her the queen of size zero?
when zero is the number of healthy teeth left in her mouth
from forcing herself to be sick after every meal?
so what is the deal
with this perfection ****?
I've had enough of it, having to listen to the girl I love
saying "oh I'm so fat" well **** me, I've had enough of that
call me unsympathetic call me a ****
I'm done hating myself, I'm learning to bounce back
you are who you are, a poet once told me to be proud of that
and that I am finally, once and for all
I might be skinny and look weak but I'll stand tall
I'm a clever guy, or so I'm told
I've got charm so I'll learn to use it
keep writing the poetry, to me it's sweet music
keep on telling myself
"I can do this, I can do this, I can do this"



**and so can you
.
can't get the structure right on HP format but it's meant to be read aloud anyhoooo
 Oct 2016
phil roberts
We made a vow, you and I
In the sight of no-one
Other than our souls
Where the truth dwells
And awaits us

Miles apart within these isles
With hearts keeping time
Living within each other
Without touching
We wait
Until our time arrives

                                By Phil Roberts
 Sep 2016
Stranger Blue
I guess you know by now I hate December
But wondering how I got to be so cold.
Why bother to say, you won't remember.
Some things are better left untold.
I came and stole your heart. You abused my body.
I took your self respect and that's all you had.
You destroyed everything that ever was me.
The more i love you darlin', the more it makes you mad.
Maybe you can't stand to see me happy.
More than that I  hate to see you sad.
But if we decide to leave each other
the outcome would be pretty but bad.
What's this strange relationship?
Isn't it a shame this is no Broadway play?
Then we could rewrite each others lines.
Even at that, what would we say?
It would be like the blind trying to lead the blind.
Maybe I just can't stand to see you happy,
More than that, you hate to see me sad.
Maybe if we had not kissed under the Chinese maple.
Maybe...but sometimes it snows in April.
Next page