Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jul 2015
Francie Lynch
A wolf stands firmly
Howling singular notes,
Reaching over the night.
The woodland animals
Hear the plaintif cry
As a lonely echo
Through the air.
We don't care,
But others cower nearby.
The abandoned wail ****** ears,
Confirming all their fears:
Something must die.
Scratching, arching
With fierce yellow eyes,
Snout pointing to the darkling sky,
He howls his hollow cry,
Sounding like his cousin's bark,
He lopes to his den,
Veiled in the dark,
Hoping his warnings
Were not in vain,
The wolf next night
Will wail again.
raising wall
closing door
earth won't keep us
longer more

sun will burn
out one day
turn ashes' urn
our earthly way

but much before
what could happen
we burn her more
than earth can gain

drip by drip
we bleed her dry
go on trip
for a home in sky

if pause to think
how come this need
we're on brink
for endless greed

distrust and fight
waning smiles
can things be bright
out billion miles?
 Jul 2015
Doofinity
The landslide pours around my clambering arms and legs, abrading my flesh with its contents of sharp rocks and broken earth.
I feel my feet slip their traction, and kick my toes into the jagged incline.
Hands losing grip, I claw upward desperately hunting for the slightest finger hold.
Nails shredded, blood from my broken knuckles swirl with the sludge oozing past me.
Mud matted hair and freckled spattered accents are caked across my face.
Eyes blurred with the sting of salt like that of the Red Sea.
Cries stifled for the fear of opening my mouth to be invaded by the waves of agony.
I glance down into the dreaded abyss below.
Unable to discern shapes in the pitch.
A glint of orange, a blink of red, glanced glow of green.
I know they're down there... Echoing sounds of gnashing teeth, and beastly screeches, scraping and scrambling just as frantic as I, but their objective is not escape such as mine.
They want to take me, eat me alive, stuffing their insatiable guts with my raw emotions.
Just one crooked talon hooked into my ankle and I'd become a side of beef at a feeding frenzy.
The unknown faces below radiate ice cold still air toward my feet.
I need to find warmth.
Upward, I reach. This cannot consume me, I will not yield.
I feel the grind of my bones and grit in my wounds, burn in my eyes, taste of bitter dampness, smell the murky bog...It's ******* miserable, but I realize, I am...almost alive.
I refuse to be numb, I allow my pain and fear be my passenger, become my fuel...
My battle is forever unending, but I have seen blue sky before, felt the sun penetrate my skin and warm my body, tasted the sweet air of a serene eve...
There is a place, I know, I can find it again, holding hope.
Just one kind embrace from love and I, the feeble hunted, turn graceful huntress surviving, thriving.
 Jul 2015
Seher Seven
the birthing goddess
her body preparing for insemination
the richness pooled among her trenches.
bright red and hot. when she can no longer
contain
it explodes out
with a force we are always unprepared for.

She, our mother.
our creator. we molded in the fire of her womb.
She, our mother, fractionally recreates.
She, knows her purpose.
the crimson show is for no weak man,
men struggle to understand the power
in that core. they, too far removed from
their mothers hands. mother's lands remind us,
but we wear shoes for that.

today, I read that we all began as woman.
my body is the predecessor of my sons.
so invested in LOVE and creation,
she
gives up her organs for the balance of our time.
sacrifices the creative womb
to bring forth the solution. the balance.
she knows instinctively that
her womb
is the power of the center of our Earth.
is the power of the rapture of destruction
the force of the creation of LOVE.
she, our Mother.
like with all children, the farther you are from mom,
the less you remember her lessons.

she calls me to her bedside.
I enter the room, confidence birthing
as I near my Mother's side.
she embraces me, touches my soul
through other family members
and through LOVE.
she sacrifices her easy rotation,
her youthful spin, I feel the dizziness too now.
slowing down with conscious effort within
at my Mother's bedside, I shower her with LOVE,
compassion, tears, nutrition, beautiful flowers to smell,
all the things she taught me.
all the things she gives me.

our Mother Earth who LOVES
our fertile Father
our genetics, the subtleties.

the street lights are on…

do you here your Mother's call?
 Jul 2015
Liam
an infinity of predestined roles
an inclusive experience in totality
as every fiber, thread, and patch
in the quilt of being that is god

serial embodiment in all matter
animal, vegetable, and mineral
earth, atmosphere, and aether
purposeful suffering and solitude

new souls emerging from the cycle
comprehensive awareness fulfilled
a nebula of creative expansion
from a supernova of spirituality

novices grasping for comprehension
floundering with loving compassion
welling tears of confused recognition
from a source of obscured recollection

collective consciousness in transformation
the cumulative effect of genuine connection
to appreciate the strength of a star
to respect the divinity of a weakness
 Jul 2015
Simpleton
Its 3:23am
And I'm standing with my nose flattened against the cold window
Watching lightening flash in the dark of the night
Shedding light in the blind corners out of sight
Thunder roars demanding to be felt
As souls rest in the care of God
The weather teaches me how to write
About the healing dark
With the wind that passes through your street to mine
In this small world
I'm a clay figure beneath the stars tonight
With a poets mind that resists losing conscience
I'm convinced it's the weather that made poets
 Jul 2015
SøułSurvivør
snow
               floes
       on a
vast
crevase
create
      the
            tiny
           brook
bubbling
down          
the                  
high            
meadow
                 through
      wild
flower
     and
             tussock
it merges
with the              
mountain                    
stream            
water clean
               refined
                            burbling on
                     its wending way
through the
soughing pines            
it flows into a        
river which
           goes its lazy way
getting ever wider
on its path unto the sea        
in the mighty ocean the sun      
creates the cloud . which the
       winds take to the mountains to
        make a snow white shroud
the same snows melt
and create
a brook        
the                    
maker                        
of                                
the                
rain
          for
the
entire            
cycle                    
just            
begins
        again


soulsurvivor
(C) 7/5/2015
I saw a little crab coming out the sea
snail shell greeting me.
I saw a ladybug
******* and welcoming
me on the beach.

Then I bathed in the luminous
sun rays naked.
Bare beauty of existence:

I let the lady bug go                
near the coast
to climb on the finest bush branch.
Thank you, happy-go-lucky!
I go as well. . . sweet lady

I saw grey green *****
running into the shade
hiding among sea rock
cracks. . .sea waves splashing over them.

I saw a lonely seagull staring at me
thoughtfuly aware. This reserve sharp,
piercing gaze surpised me ~ thinking:
"Who is this-lady occupying my bay?"

Then the seagull flew away landing
nearby on the baby waves, swaying
with a natural rhythm, drifting, white,
away, still aware of my presence.

I had to draw him within my mind
to capture the curve of his beak
and the orange yellow shade, eyes
thinking of other eyes, masculinity.

The body was The Livingston.  Pure
bonus. Of living. I saw all human beings
have this yearning soul, wanting to be
happy. Every inner light glows beautifully.

*Thank you ~ Majestic Universe! We are
never alone! Interconnected I am, happy,
content, loving each rock, pebble, soil~
tree, person, sunrise~music~sunset!
Every ripple's interference phenomena
caused by these amazing alive beings.
Morning around. . .
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic observer
 Jul 2015
Tom Spencer
The trail rose up
through the sand
and sage covered hills
following the sinews of a land
scoured by fire and flood.
Even the most severe carving
here was nothing
compared to the city below-
its concrete grid
glaring over my shoulder-
sprawled out,
******* on its dingy
comforter of smog-
******* up
the dust of the desert
around it.

The trail led me up.
Up past twisted
juniper bones,
past pale green yuccas
curling
fine white filagree
from their dagger blades,
past sandstone boulders
swirled like confections,
past ancient cooking pits
nested with ash,
and ghost-like hands
outlined on stone-
to a white cliff face
up-******
beneath the cloudless sky.


From a lone stump
a pinyon jay squawked
drawing my eyes down.
A sentinel
to its comrades-
who rose up
from the draw to my left
and sailed in twos and threes
sinking down into
the draw on my right.
Right before me,
around me, behind me,
first two- then six,
then tens of metallic blue
wings beating heavily against
the unfamiliar desert air.

They had come down.
Down from the scrubby
forests of pine.
Down from snow
covered slopes.
Hungry,
they searched the green
fingers of the washes-
the winter forcing them
down across the trail
that was drawing me up.
They passed close by,
wing beats feathered my ears,
first up, then down-
the sentinel
keeping an eye .


Listening, suddenly hearing
my breath beat
against the wind-
I stood motionless, perched
beyond starting
and destination-
blue wings lifting
the hunger within.


Tom Spencer © 2017
 Jul 2015
CA Guilfoyle
Oh green I sing, of wings and birds across blue morning sky
with summer sounds, willows round the floating pond
dipping gently by.

Warm winds play music soft
through leaves and reeds they sing
gathering in the transient breeze.

All the day I rest my head
breathe sweet the flowering fields
and never shall I leave this place
nor want for any sweeter heaven.
 Jun 2015
Miss Havisham
Rustic urns and garden walls awaiting
and cabbage roses open—their fragrance sweet:
A spicy aroma carried on the breeze,
Oh, enjoy it all now while summer lasts!

-M.H.-
 Jun 2015
Corset
Animal House

Sweeping dust
storm,
Gazelles leap.

Careening reach,
dizzy heights
Shy Giraffes
necking in
undergrowth.

Creeping tide
menageries
mystic sloths
limb and oath.

Sea mist
breaking wave
Sun prancing
Dolphins
embraceable
moonbeams.

Lizards
shedding skins.
Trine children,
Pan animals.

Golden gleaming
processions
growling purrs
Carnivores
give
Herbivores
last rites
confessions.

We are
the animal house
the  hourglass
menageries.

bleating hearts
imminent deaths,
fleeting breaths,
unimaginable
love.
 Jun 2015
Kelley A Vinal
Herbs in the window
Slowly flavoring the stone
Of a fire-lit home

A whistle so shrill
Pick some dried sage from the sill
The tea is ready
Next page