Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Apr 2017
Cné
sometimes,
i like to dance
with the devil
burning eyes upon me
in hypnotic dazzle
my toes easily
sweep away inhibitions
quieting my angelic
voice's suspicions
as whispered words
brush thine ear
my entranced ego
has no fear
endangering
as it may be
our bodies entanglement
appears free
with soaring thoughts
of ecstasy
we ebb and flow
in ****** mystery
seduced in music
playing rhythmically
ecstatically,
i dance willingly
 Apr 2017
K Balachandran
bee pecks on bloom's lips
acting coy, she turns away,
slyly eyes him once.
 Apr 2017
Poetic T
life is a stone in a pond,
once
        we sink
                we never rise,


but the ripples of our life
       touch more than we know.
 Apr 2017
wordvango
silent as
the   middle of the ocean
quiet as the spider in a corner
comforting no one and seeking
none
just being
 Apr 2017
Onoma
How many shadows of
former selves
does it take to fall
from grace?
To wring out the lights
of rungs, scared to
death of heights.
To make headway in
time, is to fall out of it.
Planets are poor markers,
we create their surfaces
to prolong our search.
The plump moon lights up my room.

My mind is now a flat graph
no desire no lust no dream

the cold winds from the rumbling sea
make no dent on me
I look at my palms
and see the cracked floor
gnarled roots of mangrove on the wall
blend seamlessly with all I have
like once I had her in this room
love together
taking wingless flight to the moon
but now I more like sitting here
prospecting no words to rhyme
not angered at the blankness
for in this vacuous moonlight
I wait without a hope of gain
without a despair of loss
unconstrained for time
contoured by fireflies
alone
recounting a new beginning
from the end.
 Apr 2017
Lazhar Bouazzi
No matter how often a road is traveled by,
It never tells the same story twice.
(c) LazharBouazzi
 Apr 2017
Lazhar Bouazzi
Across the leaden sky
A gull shooting a cry,
Hastens to his final task
Before the sky puts on his mask.

No one knew what his final task was
Except that his time drew to a pause
And that he had to hasten because
From the open he had to retreat.

This the bird knew, but he was wayward;
He swam in the airy waves, beak forward,
Skating-flying, but always eastward,
Heedless of the dark - like a poet.

©LazharBouazzi, 2017
 Apr 2017
Colm
My voice is in the falling rain
A crashing rolling weeping realm
My song of storms proudly proclaims
These clouded skies are falling down

Back to the earth from whence they came
A moist collection careening down
To crash into the waterways
And sing my song clear and aloud

Into your ears I whisper rain
And share my secrets so profound
As droplets cleanse the concrete stains
They sweep away the sorrow sounds

So here I sits by window panes
To smell the sky and taste the clouds
Though thunder rolls and storms berates
My song remains like falling sounds
Sometimes when the words are just right. They just all align and walk through the door together in unison. Or at least so it was with this creation. Be sure and listen to me read it on my SoundCloud account. Link below. And thank you for reading, sharing, commenting, and following along as you feel called. (:

https://soundcloud.com/user-433755196/falling-rain
 Mar 2017
Onoma
If there is an end to

be known on a first name

basis, then wear your Sunday

worst...and walk the waters

where burnt bridges stood.
Next page