Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Sep 2016
Lora Lee
Night comes
r
     o l l i
               n g
                 down again
in painted coats
of thick onyx
clouding my vision
as if a brightly-striped
cuttlefish,
                sister of squid
has enveloped me
in its
dark liquid
           sea ink
an opaque vapor
for protection,
a shimmering
            sheild against
disillusionment
pain of potential
         loss
endless strands
of longing
knotting in my
hair like kelp
keeping me rooted
to the sea floor,
feet ensconced in
the soft squish
of muck and earth
Miraculously,
    I breathe,
as if a sea nympth,
a mermaid
holding on to
the silvery scales
of her reality
indigo-dipped
in deepest iridescence
blending with fronds
of vibrant greens
and I am floating
within a vast membrane
     of brine
somehow nuturing,
liquid cushion
of womb-water
letting it slake
the piquancy of thirst
that bursts my tongue
               into succulence
Spiked in sea stars
like thorny crowns,
I reach out to
discover new textures
puncture the dark
with my fingers
enfold those waters
      to me,
letting them
rock the soul
          of my soul
the heart
      of the seed
of my heart
   and allow my
sonar, as powerful
as a whale's
encompassing call
to surge up
through nautical miles
                      of ocean depths,
buoyed through layers
of waves
        up unto
the winds
that ride,
     ever-tenderly,
the surface
    of
       the
    dawn
 Aug 2016
wordvango
her
hair all Prell and Aqua Net
mine all Brylcreem
gives away our ages
but not our amour
I asked her out to dinner
she said why don't I cook something
in
I showed up at her door
with gathered wild flowers
and a bottle of Chardonnay
she cooked my favorite dinner
Spaghetti and garlic bread
and we watched
Breakfast at Tiffany's
until I fell asleep next to her on the couch
snoring
I thought it sweet she covered me up
and left a wildflower
from her bouquet on my pillow
we may  be old and the vigor dimmed
but we are still romantics
deep down
within.
 Aug 2016
Keith Wilson
As I strolled through the park
A very small boy was having a lark

A very small boy on a very small bike
Flying past nearly in the ****

As I came back from the store
He was going faster more and more

He flew past me like a bat out of hell
I jumped off the path and nearly fell

As he disappeared from sight
I wondered would he be all right
 Aug 2016
Akira Chinen
She was made out of ribbons and butterflies
She floated with a tragic grace and a melancholy smile painted on her face
She only existed by the magic and wonder of lost yesterdays
There was a quite storm of rage and sorrow trapped in her eyes
She found comfort in the fingertips of deaths cold grip
Though she could no more die than she could sleep or dream
And she could not sleep or dream for she was made of dreams
She lived in streches of hours and days
And inbetween seconds and flashes
She was neither here or there
But always everywhere
The ocean crashed and rolled within the threads of her hair
Tidal waves of mist hid her ever flowing tears
In moments of secrecy she prayed for the extinction of ribbons
And of a burning blaze to consume the last wing of all butterflies
 Aug 2016
beth fwoah dream
the etching of
reflection in a china bowl
full of water,
our love
uncovering tiny silver
stars on the horizon.
 Jul 2016
Pax
i was the mango
who left his
tree
too early
too soon
and even in  my
golden stage
i still remain
bitter
to the very
end
.
.
.
 Jun 2016
beth fwoah dream
inspiration, the dark soul
deranged, an eagle flowing
with the sky, a poem carving
itself out of oak, everything
surging, everything uncovered,
joys, mad, mad joys.
 Jun 2016
SøułSurvivør
~.~.~.~


floating
on the breeze
swirling
in a swoon
laments in
blue and purple
are the
petals of the moon

waned a
crescent of a flower
waxed to
cabbage rose
now the
tight held tithes
sift down
in
airy
floes

lying in the grass
of a dark
wide-open
field
sweet
swanning
petals find me
moon's offerings
revealed

i inhale their
fragrance
their light sweet perfume
they cover me
with kisses

the
petals
of
the
moon
soulsurvivor
(c) 2014
rewritten
(c) march 12, 2015

Dedicated to my dear friend Jonnie... she makes me happy!

This is one of my most popular & beloved poems, my dear! I hope you enjoyed it!

God Bless & Happy Thanksgiving!
 Jun 2016
Torin
I want the stars to shine
Over your fragile skin
So many morters and pestils
So many wrecking *****
We can destroy the buildings we live in
And keep on living

I want the moon to beam
Into your delicate mouth
So much concrete and asphalt
So many jackhammers
We can build a parking lot
And keep on moving

A want the the night to seem endless
As deep as you are
We can shine a light
We can carry it so far
Our hands aren't time

They are infinity

Forever is only as long
As I love you
Because I will die
But my love won't
 Jun 2016
JOSE SRANG
Rain showers on the roof
like his bare hands pounds on the drum
I keep the silver moon on my palm
Rain showers like lullaby
I keep my head on the bunch of smile
Rain showers like fire flies
I keep my dreams with the sun flowers in the vase
Rain showers like a symphony
I keep myself in the night
To light the night in the shrine
Rain showers like fairy tales
King rides his horse to the orphaned olives
Moon floats with the wind
Princess weaves the smiles and dreams
A pearl shines in the eyes of silent waves
Grand mother hugs me with the wrinkled leaves
Rain showers like a lullaby
I wet in rain
Wet in rain like the wild violet in the night
I love the rain as you love
 Jun 2016
beth fwoah dream
roses, wild and overgrown break the sky
with their cloudy blossom,

image of a lily on a smooth pond,

the light flooding through lilacs,
delicate as a breeze.
Next page