Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jun 2018
Sheherazad
It is terrifying that love dooms us to pain —
because if not done correctly,
love is a cancer on the heart
Its greedy cells fed by the anguishing cannibalism
of one’s own mind,
unable to separate itself from the seed it once held

And if it done correctly,
lovers will feel that two bodies cannot become close enough.
I cannot melt into you
in the way that I want to
When I’m lying with my head on your chest
begging to fall into your heart.

When you are not here, you are too far
But even when I am in your arms,
separated by nothing but our skin,
You are still too far

Thank the lord for these two sorrows
and the ability to choose between them
— @sheherazad.poetry
On the stage
is the one
he is not

smiles shakes hands
holds close and tight
he is right on spot.

Hides the real face
speaks and shares
like he is a saint

blamelessly white
open in the light
without a taint.

Busy in the act
to keep away the fact
he is on guard

audience gloats
over crisp anecdotes
any dissent debarred.

From a distance
some in silence
read it in bold

the gore in the glory
the gaps in the story
and all that's untold.
 Jun 2018
K Balachandran
we ran, to beat rain ,
huddled seeking tree’s cover;
a flood of time passed!
 May 2018
Traveler
Beyond these pages
I'm still alive
Raring to live
    Before I die...
At least another
Hundred
Thousand miles
Wheels swiftly spinning
A Traveler wearing a smile
Perhaps we'll meet
Along the way
Have you ever been
To outer space?
We could watch
The moon go by
From a dark
Starlit sky
.....
Traveler Tim
My waking time
in the narrowest part of the creek
chases spots in the shadows
a streak between bushes
thirsty tongue lapping green opal
cautious cotton on the fallen leaves
the priceless prowler in the morn mist
or in the dusk
the graceful glory
in the hinterland of my heart.
 May 2018
Cné

Through the withered branches
where the verdant leaves once grew,
I stared up at the old oak tree
against a sky of blue.

The branches stretched to heaven
as a supplicant might do.
It seemed to pray, as if to say,
"My time at last is through."

I wondered at the gnarly trunk
and limbs of twisted wood
And for a moment thought of life
and almost understood.

Life and death go hand in hand.  
Our time is our's to spend.
But like the tree against the gale,
‘tis better if we bend.

I'll pay it forward when I can.  
Thy brothers' keeper be.
I'll keep the roots well watered
and learn the lessons of the tree.

It shares the world with nestlings
and it's acorns oft abound,
To feed the hungry denizens
that glean them from the ground.

It's leaves give shade to those below.  
It's branches form a gym.
Children climb to see the world
and love this gift to them.

And as I watched, the farmer
came and laid the old husk low.
Firewood now, would be it's fate
and make the chimney glow.

Ashes unto ashes and to dust
we must return.
All of life in cycle goes
and from this I hope to learn:

This gift of life to all below,
all creatures great and small,
Is just a stop upon the trip
we travel, one and all.

Inspired by a photo shared by Melissa. Happy Earth Day!
 May 2018
Pax
Too many shattered Mirrors
Mirroring my sins.

Too many walls
Hindering my wings.

My growth remains
  still
as silence Kills.

How do you love the
Unloved?
I was never a writer
I was just some poet
Who seek some
understanding in my
understatement @pax

at times I feel so tired...
thanks to those who still read me..
Bamboo groves sing the symphony of winds
in their crackling I hear my heart
on the red lone summer road.

The village woman passes with her cow
she has no time for poetry
yet her radiance fills me to beg life
more..

O Death be a while away
I've taken root on this land.
On the village road, May 11 2018 2 pm
Next page