Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jan 2016
Nat Lipstadt
~~~

sometimes right and wrong,
good and bad,
are accurate single summaries of
the momentary episodes,
the essays,
that constitute the whole human voyage
to parts unknowable

there are but a handful of persons
who might fit the lightness
of your loveliest of theories

but how could you know
that long ago,
one declared independence from the
oppression of personal dependencies,
from either
admissible fear,
more than,
admirable courage

and yet,
those few,
those so very precious few,
a band, a squad, a fireteam
of successful piercers of
the bark of an ever scaling armor,
are warmth welcomed and comforted
within my hearts hearth,
under the protection
of my soul's furnace,
for welcoming flawed me,
fully,
without reservation

Nowadays,
I write mostly for
the lost children,
the lost loves,
the long agos of long ago,
those whose caring and loss,
scars and medals
somehow
were adjudged,
deemed too costly,
for everyday wearing

and for
those mates,
whose caring and the sharing
of their losses,
demands memorization, savoring,
writing down,
proofs of open boundaries

for me,
in the losing, is the saving,
in the poems that honor recall,

therein, thereof, and
thereby,
gaining
for our lives,
a modest, husbanded,
allowance,
a fund mutual,
of caring,
hard earned
and keeping us alive


~~~


October 26, 2015
8:48 AM
NYC
I called the lone parrot passing over my head

from the blue
i won't fly to you

it said

forgot the love i gave?

but you made me your slave
to repeat your chosen line
to voice your chosen tune
my life was not mine

so from the blue
i won't ever fly to you


she affirms the parrot escaped

but i know one dull afternoon in March
she let the bird fly away
being too weary of the chosen line.
Rain, I adore
Pour in measure
Thrills of the
Umbrella strolls
Without one
Down comes
Pulsating, a drop.

The first showers
Always dear
Give fever
Escalating mercury
In the thermometer
Kindles body fire
When fever chills
At the pores
Friendship scorches
Unabated unable
To subside.

All the guests gone
A teardrop knocks
At the window pane
On the bed of blisters
The half-conscious
In delirium blabbers
'Rain rain'.

Splits open, the sky
Trembles the Earth
The silver ornament
At the waist slackens
In an ecstatic
Electric confluence.

The chest-close hugging
Mercy of the sky
The wind which
Carried you afar
The sunshine colours
And pretty curves
Of the rainbow
Not with you now
But give me
The earthly odour
Of your coming
Give me the greenery
Of the fresh spring
On the paths, you
Created new
Give me those
Fallen flowers
Of the muddy track.

Forget the sky, the pride
Penetrate my soil, the soul
My fever will be with you
Which carries my breath
The warmth of my body
From that will sprout
Panikkoorkka, the herb.
 Jan 2016
Poetic T
emotions bleed forth
which direction signs my fate

life does consume me
 Jan 2016
mike dm
chew your thoughts with your mouth open

i want to see
all of you
teeth, tongue, throat, synapse, neuron
stammers and spasms and
flashes of crippling vulnerability
streams of lucid genius
speechlessness' met with
one single look that utters sunsets
giddy ****** kid

i want it
glitch and all
 Jan 2016
Moonlight Bliss
I will always fall,
For a guy like you.

You will always fall,
For someone like her.

Two different people,
Two different souls.

You'll never be mine,
**I'll never be yours.
It hurts that this is the way it is.
 Jan 2016
Gracie Knoll
Like shadows in the moonlight
Or feathers in a nest
Like stars on a dark night
Or diamonds on her ivory chest
These things are settled, ment to be
You cannot change nor rid yourself thereof
They are still yet listless like a bird trying to get free
They whisper on the wind, their voices always soft
Such are the ghosts of my past
Not like misty beings but flesh and bone
Yet always here and gone so fast
That I know this world is not their home
They come when my mind us wondering
Or when I'm ill at ease
They always come when sounds arise of suffering
Or at the moment when they please
But unfriendly they are not
Nor are they unpleasant company
They walk with me on days that are hot
And when I'm lonely they talk to me in symphony
Like nightingales on summers eve
And tell me tales of times gone by
And how they measure time by trees
This was planted when born was I
They say in pleasant voices
And now it is a greater tree
And full of happy noises
And when they leave I still feel their company
 Jan 2016
Àŧùl
Relationship is like a bouquet,*
Love is the real fragrance,
Just like marigolds and roses,
The religions are the same,
Just like Vedas and Moses,
Miles of smiles sewn together,
Just like starry heavenly poses.

Still flowers fade one day,
Same about the love I felt,
Wild flowers don't need care,
Wild love won't require care,
Mine couldn't be as true,
A judgment was passed.
It wasn't passed by you.

It was passed by people,
The people around you,
You were manipulated,
They infuriated you finally,
Inside I knew it'll be failed,
No I do not blame you,
I know how cursed I am.
My HP Poem #973
©Atul Kaushal
The ocean is inside of me
It is turbulent and merciless
I will drown in these waters
I will choke on my own blood
Next page